#but not every game has to be life changing

[azulock]

I spend a feel days without writing an I feel rusty already, let's see if I can fix this in time for writing the one Halloween fic

the moment he notices he caught feelings

Oliver Aiku.

It's when his other conquests become bland. every date he goes to feels a little boring, every new person a little uninteresting. sure, the sex might be good, great even, but it still feels lackluster, and he catches himself wanting to leave faster than even his usual. suddenly, this hunting game he had liked to play for so long just doesn't appeal quite as much as before. and sure, as much as he likes to pretend he isn't aware, pretend he doesn't know what changed, he knows, especially when his eyes linger too long on your number on his phone screen.

Reo Mikage.

It's when he starts to memorize the things you like. he doesn't even notice he did that until it starts seeping into his everyday life. he passes by a shop and sees clothes he thinks fit your style and finds himself staring for a long minute. he sees a new restaurant that he thinks you'd like and memorizes where it is. he passes by a stall and sees a keychain of something you enjoy and he buys it on impulse. suddenly he is hyper aware of his surroundings, but only of the things that connect back to you.

Michael Kaiser.

It's when he wants to share any victory, any accomplishment he has with you, be it small or big. where before the small things were reserved for himself, now he wants to share them with you. and sure, his big victories he still wants the world to see, but he wants you specifically to be there, to notice them first. he will look for your face in the crowd after a goal, he will feel the impulse to call you after signing a big contract. before, he was the only person whose opinion really mattered, but now he wants your recognition too.

Ryusei Shidou.

It's when he finds himself wanting to share everything he likes with you. he will be engaging in some hobby and wonder if you'd like doing it too. he will go watch a movie and think of coming back to watch again but this time with you. he will be visiting someplace nice and think of why he didn't ask you to come along. it feels strange at first, he'd always been plenty comfortable with doing anything he wanted by himself, and he still is, but now he feels a force compelling him to pull you into his world.

[nikasbae]

REAL LOVE BABY - P.B

a/n: a little bit of fluff before i go back to writing smut ! also im obsessed with this song . also theres like no conversation in this story😭 , just me yapping. also this is kinda like hcs , but it’s not ? idk 🙁

warnings: mention of suicide , mental hospitals (etc.) , sappy , not proofread !

“real love baby” has been you and paiges song since your first kiss. the first time you and paige had a date, was in December of 2023. that date was the best day of your life since the day you got accepted to UConn. " real love baby " was the song playing on the radio in paiges car when you guys first kissed . paige was always beside you , always supporting you.

when one of your closest friends, brianna passed away in spring 2024 , you fell in a downwards spiral. your mental health was declining, ultimately hurting you & paiges relationship in the process. even when you had a break , she was always there for you . when you tried taking your life in may , she was at the mental hospital , visiting you , every day .

paige has been with you every step of the way . even with the arguments and breaks , you both always overcame everything together . paige was like your person , almost like a built in best friend . you guys had been close since 2018 , when you moved to Hopkins, MN .

when you and paige both announced that you both were committing to UConn , your life turned for the best . ever since you guys both were roomies , you both have done everything with each other . you guys have seen movies , went to concerts and went to fairs and parks together . even before your guys first kiss , you guys were inseparable .

you guys would always joke about you loving her until your lungs gave out , but you weren't joking . you loved playing and practicing basketball with the love of your life every day , and you wouldn't change it for the world . you loved dressing each other up before games , and you braiding her & you hair for game days . you both never believed that love was all about being sexual . (even though you guys are)

you and her both loved having real love , and you wouldn't change her for the world .

a/n: i dislike this SO MUCH , but bed chem IS coming tomorrow (hopefully) to y’all with actual dialogue ! love you all lovelies !! 🤍 like always please request !!

[satoshi-mochida]

Nine Sols coming to PS5, Xbox Series, PS4, Xbox One, and Switch on November 26 - Gematsu

Red Candle Games will release side-scrolling action platformer Nine Sols for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, and Switch on November 26, the developer announced. It will also be available via Game Pass.

Nine Sols first launched for PC via Steam on May 29.

Here is an overview of the game, via its Steam page:

About

From the creators of award-winning psychological horror games Detention and Devotion, comes Red Candle Games’ latest title Nine Sols. The studio aims to deliver a stylized action platformer that’s cohesive and complimentary with its lore-rich narrative. It’s an ongoing, most ambitious project from this indie studio up to date.

Story

New Kunlun, the Solarian’s last sanctuary, has remained quiet for centuries. Inside this vast realm, the ancient gods left mortals with a promised land that is forever protected by the sacred rituals, yet the truth of this world remains unknown to most. Everything changes when Yi, a long forgotten hero from the past, is awoken by a human child. Follow Yi on his vengeful quest against the 9 Sols, formidable rulers of this forsaken realm, and obliterate any obstacles blocking your way in Sekiro-lite style combat. Explore in unique “Taopunk” setting that blends cyberpunk elements with Taoism and far eastern mythology. Unravel the mysteries of an ancient alien race and learn about the fate of mankind.

Key Features

2D Sekiro-lite Combat – Slash, deflect, and charge into enemies and blow them up with the Taoist talisman! Each fight combines fast, brutal action sequences with classic platforming mechanics.

Intriguing Boss Fights – Ready yourself to fight the vicious ancient guardians and gruesome creatures. Be patient and utilize every move in your arsenal, mix up with Yi’s godly bow to defeat these larger than life figures.

Taopunk Setting – When cyberpunk clashes with Taoism, melding sci-fi elements with eastern mythology / fantasy, the experimental genre of Taopunk was born.

Hand-drawn Environments / Animations and Manga – Nine Sols is filled with meticulous hand-crafted, anime-style landscapes, sprite based hand-drawn animations, blending with Japanese manga inspired cutscenes.

Exploration – Traverse in the interconnected regions of New Kunlun. Discover secrets, piece together the story behind Yi’s revenge.

Aids from Inhabitants – Meet interesting NPCs of this world and interact with them to receive upgrades, gain new abilities, and discover useful technology.

Watch a new trailer below.

Consoles Announce Trailer

[wiisagi-maiingan]

Universal healthcare would be a game changer in the US. It wouldn't solve everything, of course, and it still has its issues especially in a medical system that is poorly funded and understaffed but it would change SO MUCH.

Even aside from saving lives, which we all know politicians do not care about, it would be a massive boon to the economy to let people spend money on things other than paying off medical debts, paying expensive insurance fees, and paying for medication and treatment abd doctors visits. Like a household that isn't spending a few hundred (at least!!) on life-saving medicine every month is a family that can instead put that money towards luxuries.

And yet, even the most "left-leaning" politicians in the US just completely refuse to back universal healthcare. Full stop. A basic part of many other countries, countries that are frankly doing much better than the US financially, is treated as so absurd and radical that it's not even really a discussion by Democrats.

I know I've ranted about this before. You haven't seen it, obviously, but I've also had horrible breakdowns about this irl. I voted for Harris but thinking about her vague, completely milquetoast stance on single-payer healthcare genuinely makes me feel like I'm going to throw up because that is still the best fucking option we have.

I don't know how we can fix this. I don't know how we as a country can possibly continue like this, when even the absolute bare minimum in so much off the rest of the world isn't even a consideration by mainstream politicians here. I feel sick.

[topaz-carbuncle]

this has probably already been spoken to death about on here, but despite mass effect being a huge part of my life for over a decade, I've not really yapped about it online

as much as i adore Garrus with every fibre of my being, there's a part of me that is actually glad we can't romance him in me1. If you ignore the initial reasoning behind why we can't, it works out so well for their relationship in the long run

when shepard first meets garrus, they are on uneven grounds. They fall into a form of mentor and protégé style of friendship, garrus looks up to shepard and comes to her for answers. She's been through a lot, so he wants shep's point of view that's been forged from her own experiences on the battlefield. Paragon or renegade, its safe to assume the events in shepard's chosen backstories helped push her into either direction.

Then she dies and he is left behind, then Omega happens. 2 years worth of mourning. 11 people to mourn in such a short span of time, all things considered. Shepard and his team snatched away from him without warning. That would change anyone to lose that amount of people so quickly.

Death changes people and shepard and garrus, for better or worse, are forced through that change 2 years later

So by the time shepard and garrus are reunited, they are now on equal ground. He no longer comes to shepard for answers. He's already gotten them from his own experiences. The same way she did before the hunt for saren. He doesn't need her answers anymore, he doesn't question the morality of his past missions, that's long since been cemented into his mind after shepards death and sidonis.

Back on the SR-1, garrus was lagging slightly behind her, but now on the SR-2? now they are truly side by side, on the battlefield and through this learnt experience.

imo this makes his romance even stronger than if we could romance him in the first game. because it really is strangers -> friends -> lovers in its purest form in my eyes.

[solxamber]

I really love your writing. If it is possible could you write about an ignihyde reader that has a crush on Rook, and leaves him flowers, poetry, and stuffed animals. As Rook is an excellent hunter, it shouldn’t take him long to find out who the reader is, but there’s a catch. The readers UM is shape shifting. They can change everything about their appearance. Thus, puzzling Rook to no end. How long till he figure it out, and what does he do when he finally catches the reader?

Ahh it's my first request!! I hope you like this!

Your love life has always been like an unfinished video game: full of potential but perpetually stuck on “pause” because talking to people is hard and you have a knack for turning invisible (literally) whenever you get nervous. But lately, you’ve found yourself in a completely different sort of situation—one that involves Rook Hunt, the most poetic hunter of Night Raven College and the object of your not-so-secret, shape-shifty affections.

And when you say not-so-secret, it means you’ve been leaving a trail of gifts that practically scream, “NOTICE ME, YOU HANDSOME WEIRDO.”

It all started innocently enough. A flower here, a cute stuffed animal there, and, of course, the occasional badly rhymed poem you stayed up way too late crafting. You know, typical middle-of-the-night crush behavior. The thing is, you didn’t sign your name. Nope. You decided to go full stealth mode, and using your Unique Magic to shapeshift every time you left a gift. One day you’re a tall, mysterious student from Pomefiore; the next, a shy sophomore from Savanaclaw. It’s the perfect plan!

Except… this is Rook Hunt we’re talking about. He’s a hunter, a tracker. He could probably find a needle in a haystack with his eyes closed, blindfolded, and reciting French poetry. So it didn’t take long before Rook realized someone was very much into him—and that someone was playing hard to get (catch?).

But here’s the twist. You’ve made yourself the ultimate puzzle. Every time Rook thinks he’s close to figuring you out, you shapeshift into a completely new person. One day he follows the scent of roses, thinking it will lead him to his admirer, only to find an Ignihyde student carrying around a bouquet of tulips. The next, he tracks down a trail of tiny stuffed animals, only to spot you as an unsuspecting Idia lookalike casually sipping tea in the courtyard. (You panicked, okay?)

“Ah, mon amour, you are like the wind—impossible to catch, yet always present,” Rook muses one day as he stands in the middle of the school courtyard, staring wistfully at a lone stuffed squirrel you’d left behind. Meanwhile, you’re hiding behind a hedge, shapeshifted into a first-year Octavinelle student, silently praying he doesn’t sniff you out like some kind of love detective.

But you can’t help yourself. Every time he gets close, your heart pounds, your magic flares up, and—poof!—you’re someone else again. It’s been weeks of this now, and Rook is officially stumped. He knows it’s you, but at the same time, he doesn’t know it’s you. It’s both thrilling and terrifying.

One day, you think you’ve outdone yourself. You leave Rook a stuffed owl—because, you know, symbolism—and a particularly sappy poem about how his eyes are like “two radiant moons lighting the darkness of your soul.” (Cringe-worthy, but heartfelt.) You shapeshift into an Ignihyde student again and casually start making your exit, congratulating yourself on a job well done.

But then, as you’re about to sneak back to your dorm, you hear it: “Ah, I see you at last, my elusive muse.”

Oh no. OH NO.

You freeze, half-transformed between yourself and the random character you picked that morning. Slowly, you turn around, and there he is. Rook. Smiling. Not just any smile, but that knowing smile, the one that says, “I’ve been onto you this whole time.”

You’re caught. And not in the cool, romantic way. More like the “rabbit caught in a snare” kind of way.

“I must say, you’ve been quite the challenge, mon cher,” Rook says, walking toward you with the confidence of someone who’s won every game he’s ever played. “But even the most skilled of hunters can’t resist a mystery. And what a mystery you’ve been!”

You try to play it cool, but your brain is currently doing the equivalent of the Blue Screen of Death. Do you transform again? Disappear? Fake your own death?

Nope. You’re paralyzed.

Rook stops in front of you, tilting his head slightly as if sizing you up. “I’ll admit, it took me longer than expected. Every time I thought I was close, you slipped away… like a wisp of smoke.” He steps closer, and you feel your heart about to explode. “But now that I’ve found you, I must ask—why all the hiding, my chérie?”

He knows. He knows.

With a nervous laugh, you finally drop the act—literally. Your transformation fades, leaving you standing there, fully you, cheeks burning. “Uh… surprise?” you manage weakly.

Rook’s eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Ah! Magnifique! I knew it! My instincts were correct, but what a splendid revelation!” He takes your hand dramatically, and you swear he’s about to launch into a sonnet. “All this time, it was you—you—my mysterious admirer! The one who leaves me such lovely tokens of affection! And yet, you kept me in the dark, playing this delightful game of cat and mouse…”

You’re still trying to process the fact that Rook actually figured it out, while he’s over here going full monologue.

“I must say,” Rook continues, still holding your hand, “your talents are impressive. To evade me for so long—c’est incroyable! But why, mon cher? Why not reveal yourself sooner?”

“Well, uh…” You scratch the back of your neck, completely flustered. “I thought you’d think it was weird?”

“Weird?” Rook blinks at you, clearly baffled. “Why would I think that? You have done nothing but shower me with affection in the most creative ways! Why, I am honored by your attentions!” His grin widens. “And now that I’ve found you, I can return the favor, oui?”

“Return the—wait, what?” You blink at him, your brain short-circuiting again.

Rook leans in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Did you think the hunter would not also become the prey? My dear, you’ve caught my attention as well… and I must say, I’m quite taken with you.”

Your heart skips approximately fifty beats. “You… what?”

“Ah,” Rook sighs dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “You truly are a marvel. But now that I’ve caught you, I won’t let you slip away so easily.”

You’re still standing there, trying to process the fact that Rook Hunt, Rook Hunt, the walking poetry machine, is flirting with you. And not just in a casual way.

Wait why is holding his bow like that? Is he trying to serenade you with just his bow as his accompaniment?

“So,” Rook says, his smile widening, “shall we continue this game of ours? Or perhaps… a new adventure, together?”

You stare at him, your face about to combust from sheer embarrassment and disbelief. “Uh… sure?”

And just like that, Rook laughs, a joyous, carefree sound, and pulls you into a hug. “Magnifique! The hunt is over, but the journey has just begun, my chérie.”

As for you? You’re pretty sure this whole situation is a fever dream.

But hey, at least you finally got your guy. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll survive his endless poetic declarations.

Maybe.

Masterlist

[runariya]

Part 2 of this | shout out to @sleepingzzzimp who made this happen lol part of the prompt game pairing: vampire!Jungkook x f!reader genre: vampire!AU, yandere, dark romance warnings: compulsion and being held captive, obsessive and possessive JK, OC’s rather…special in regards of what JK did to her, allusion to dubcon/noncon, blood drinking, foul language, explicit sexual content, smut, OC’s ovulating, oral (m. receiving), ‘good girl’, a lot of saliva, deep throating, size difference, a lil bit of fingering, doggy, unprotected seggs, a lil bit of aftercare, a lil bit of fluff, lmk if I forgot smth pls word count: 2.573

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jungkook didn’t think much further than keeping you by his side, using you not only as his personal blood bag but also as a warm, perfectly suited pleasure-giver for his dead soul. It’s not like you have much of a choice, with the compulsion firmly in place to stop your fragile self from doing anything that might harm your mortal, precious life.

He knows, though, that even under compulsion, humans tend to remain aware of what’s going on. He’s seen that subtle flicker of consciousness more times than he can count. But with you, he never finds resentment, hatred, or sadness—none of the things he might expect, even when he himself would admit he’s gone too far.

It’s impressive, really, and makes it all the more fun and fulfilling to have you around. You’re like the perfect doll, tailor-made just for him. Amazing.

Weeks have passed—maybe months? Jungkook doesn’t know anymore, nor does he care to keep track of mortal time. What he does know is that a routine has formed. And part of that routine is watching you make breakfast in the old kitchen of his mansion. Because despite everything, you’re still human, and you need nutrition to keep being his personal supply.

Jungkook’s noticed for days now that something about you has changed, though he’s not entirely sure what it is. It’s like the compulsion has worn off, not working on you the way it used to. But that shouldn’t be possible. At least, not in his understanding of things.

Sometimes, as he watches you humming around the kitchen, occasionally singing along to the crackling radio on the top shelf, he daydreams of you being here by choice, not because of compulsion. It must be nice, he thinks, to have someone who loves him.

Could he even love? If it was with you, he might try. Or maybe this possessiveness is love, the only kind he’s capable of feeling.

Like every morning, Jungkook sits at the nearby table, watching you prepare a high-protein breakfast, as if you’re willingly keeping yourself strong for him. Then, it happens. Your eyes meet his, and for the first time, they’re crystal clear, fully conscious, without any trace of the haze he’s used to see in them.

His face would go pale if he weren’t already deadly white. Carefully, he stands up, every sense on high alert. The kitchen knives are just within your reach, which he’s absolutely not a fan of. 

“What’s wrong, Kook?” Your voice is soft, melodic, and he can’t tell if you’re playing games or if he’s dreaming.

“You tell me.”

“I’m fine. But you’re not. You’re scaring me, Kook.”

He knows why you’re scared. He’s never acted this wary with you before, never approached you like you might be his literal downfall. But he can’t help it. Even though he knows you can’t really harm him, he refuses to let his guard down.

“I know the compulsion’s worn off. Stop pretending.” His voice is dangerously cold, stepping closer, eyes flicking between you and every potential threat—the knives, the hot pan, even the salt that could burn his eyes.

“I’m not pretending, I know it’s worn off.” You smile up at him, brighter than ever, like you’re happy to be free—though not from him, specifically.

“And why aren’t you running? Or fighting?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to indulge in some fantasy where you’ve magically fallen in love with your captor. But despite his caution, your words make him feel something—a fuzziness he hasn’t felt in centuries.

“Why would I?” You sigh, turning off the stove and setting down the spatula. “Jungkook, you’ve treated me well. It’s not like I would—”

“Cut the bullshit. I know you’re lying.”

“But I’m not, Kook. There’s no one out there waiting for me. And if there is, they’re only out to hurt me.”

Your eyes are glassy now, almost pleading, and he’s not sure what to make of it.

“And now, you’ve suddenly fallen in love with the one person who’s used you in every evil way imaginable?”

“It was never evil, and you know it.”

Your confidence throws him off. He’s always seen himself as the monster he is. He’s used your body, fed off you—blood and arousal—without ever asking for consent. How could that not be evil?

“But it was.”

You purse your lips, shaking your head disapprovingly as you turn back to the stove, reigniting it to finish your breakfast.

“It wasn’t. Did I give you permission for all that? No. Would I have if you’d asked? Probably not. But—”

“See!”

“I’m talking now. Shut up.” You point the spatula at him, and it’s so cute that he genuinely smiles for the first time in what feels like forever. “All I’m saying is, even though your ways are… unorthodox, you were never harsh with me. It never hurt, and I could feel how much you cared for my wellbeing.”

A silence falls between you, and Jungkook isn’t sure what to say. You’re sort of right. He never wanted to truly break you. He wanted to keep you safe, keep you useful for as long as possible. You’re too precious to waste.

“All I’m saying is, now that I’m fully conscious and making my own choices, I’d rather stay with you than go back to the humans.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Oh, I can tell.” You giggle, and despite himself, despite every reason not to, Jungkook chuckles too.

“Eat up. You’ll need it.”

Jungkook turns to leave, still processing, his mind racing. He needs time to figure out what to do next.

“Can’t wait,” you call after him, your tone teasing, and he’s pretty sure that if he could blush, he would.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

There’s no way in hell he’s able to figure you out. No. Way. Why are you all smiles and happiness, sitting like always on his giant bed, offering your neck to him like you always did?

He’s standing a good distance away, arms crossed over his sturdy chest, head tilted to the side. It’s not like he isn’t hungry—he’s starving, actually—because he’s never had his full fill of your blood, always making sure you’re alright after, leaving his hunger partially satisfied but never completely.

Saliva is collecting relentlessly in his mouth, his fangs protruding without much effort. Yet, he can’t make a move. What if it’s a trap? What if there’s a hidden dagger in your clothes, something that’ll kill him?

Should he just make you leave and find someone new? But he doesn’t want to. You’re just too sweet, too perfect for him to resist.

“Strip bare,” he commands, and the words alone make your thighs rub together as you immediately comply. Odd. 

You waste no time, each piece of clothing falling soundlessly to the floor, your nipples hardening in the cold.

“Turn around.”

You do. And he finds no threat on you. Odd again.

“Sit.”

You comply again, and he’s kind of aroused by your eager obedience. It’s refreshing, and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to resist you if this keeps up—willingly walking into whatever doom you might be for him.

But still, he’s unable to move, even though the pulse of your neck is tempting him beyond reason.

“Kook,” you mewl softly, and he’s gone. Jungkook’s gone in the sweetness of you. He lets his arms fall, strides towards you, and practically tackles you to the bed, licking and breathing against your neck.

“So good,” he murmurs, saliva dripping from his lips onto your skin as you grind your hips against him. He’s not sure why you’re this eager—he hasn’t bitten you yet, so his bite’s usual effect can’t be coursing through your blood making you horny.

“Why so eager?” he muses, grazing his fangs along your artery.

“Ovulating,” you moan, your hands threading through his hair.

“Hmmm… I can smell it on you.” The intoxicating scent of your body wraps around him like a vice, and he can’t resist any longer. “Gonna make you feel good, doll.”

You only moan his name as Jungkook finally sinks his fangs into your delicate skin, your blood flooding his mouth, his entire being. It makes him feel high, high in a way that tells him he’ll never want anything or anyone else. He’s addicted to you.

Jungkook feels your arousal intensify, your dopamine and oxytocin levels skyrocketing as your juices drip from your perfect little hole, soaking his clothed thigh with a dark wetness.

“Yes, Kook, need more, please.”

Jungkook pulls back in surprise, the confirmation so new he’s unsure if he heard you right. But you grab his head, pushing him back to your neck while your other hand fumbles with his chest, trailing down to his abs.

“Please, Kook. I’ve been a good girl. Please.”

Jungkook feels like he’s in heaven—a demon allowed into paradise. He’s fully sated, despite not drinking much of your blood. He reckons it’s the awareness in you that magnifies the effect.

He licks the wound on your neck to help it heal, then leans back on his knees, admiring your flustered, tiny frame. You’re looking up at him with sparkly eyes, lips parted, neck still smeared with your blood—you’re a vision he’ll never get sick off.

“You’ve been a good girl?” There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing you this keen, and he plans to savour it.

“Yes, a good girl for you. Always for you.”

As Jungkook stands to strip off his own clothes, you’re watching him for the first time, drinking him in rather than lying there passively.

“Sit up. Open up.”

Obedient as ever, you do as told, opening your pretty mouth and sticking out your tongue, waiting impatiently.

Jungkook pumps his cold, rock-hard cock a few times, marvelling at the sight of you. He runs his thumb over his glans for an extra kick. And though he knows you can somehow take him, he’s always impressed by the sheer size difference. But you’re a good girl, letting him in, suppressing the gag as he hits the back of your throat, muscles pulsing violently around him.

A primal moan escapes his lips as his head falls back, savouring every second of you sucking him off like your life depends on it. He can’t help but thrust into your throat, his pace increasing with every push as you grab his hips to take him deeper, moaning around his cock. Your saliva drips down your chin, your eyes, aware, locking onto his as if to reassure him to give you all he's got. 

He doesn’t hold back after that, pushing his hips flush against your face, your nose pressed into him until you can’t breathe anymore as he lets go, shooting his load down your throat. He stays there a moment longer, riding out his orgasm before pulling back.

It’s pleasing to see that, even though you haven’t climaxed yet, your skin glows ever so lovingly.

“You good?”

You’re still catching your breath, but the smile on your face disarms Jungkook completely. “Yes, of course.”

For some reason, his heart swells at your words and at the person you are, someone he hadn’t truly seen until now.

A trail of arousal drips down his sheets, ending in a pool on the floor, which he hadn’t noticed before. The sight reignites his hunger as he flips you over, pushing your face into the bed and kneeling between your legs.

“Should I reward you?” Jungkook runs his fingers over your cunt, circling your entrance before moving to your clit, giving it a few rough pets.

All you can do is moan into the sheets, your hips pushing back desperately.

Jungkook always thought you were perfect, made for him—the reason he captured you all that time ago—but seeing you now, more perfect and conscious than you ever were, is something else entirely. He loves it. He loves you. And he doesn’t care if it’s possible or not—he’s never felt like this before, and he’ll move heaven and earth to keep it that way.

“I think you’ve been such a good girl, you deserve the big reward, don’t you?” Jungkook drags his fangs down your ass, ending at your inner thigh before sinking them into your soft skin for a little sip, your arousal adding a tantalising spice.

“Yes, Kook, been so good for you,” you pant, and that’s all he needs to reward you properly as he gets to his feet after licking the bite closed, lining his still-hard cock up with your weeping cunt.

It’s a tight fit, so tight he feels like he might pass out, his vision doubling and tripling as your pulsing walls grip him mercilessly. “My beautiful doll, my beautiful, beautiful doll.”

Jungkook can’t stop praising you with every word he knows. You’re perfect, moaning, drooling, and pushing back against his hips just for him.

“You’re mine, doll.” He sets a brutal pace, needing the confirmation that no compulsion is required for you to want this as much as he does.

“Yours, Kook. Always,” you cry, fists clutching the sheets as you push back even more desperately.

“Fucking right, mine.”

Jungkook grabs your hair without slowing down, pulling you up against his chest while his other arm holds you steady not to collapse right back to the bed. 

“Never gonna let you leave.”

“Don’t want to,” you moan, your glassy, love-drunk eyes locking onto his red ones.

“Never gonna stop fucking you.”

Your swollen, parted lips scream to be kissed.

“Never gonna want anybody else,” Jungkook confesses between pants, knowing and accepting there’s no turning back for either of you.

For the first time since he captured you, you kiss him back, sucking his tongue like you’ve been starved. It’s as if all this time, you’ve wanted to reciprocate, to give, not just receive.

And despite still tasting his cum on your tongue, there’s a newfound sweetness, making him wish the compulsion had worn off sooner.

“Kook, I’m close.”

He doesn’t need your words—he can feel it in your pulsing heat, your quickening heartbeat.

“Come for me, doll. Show me how much you want this.”

You scream his name as he fucks you through your orgasm, your walls clamping down on his cold cock. He doesn’t mind, wanting to feel every contraction, hear every scream, taste every rush of blood in your body.

His own orgasm builds, and he lets himself go, chanting your name as his thrusts grow irregular until he paints your walls bright white.

You both remain like that, catching your breath, though only your heart beats violently, only you are drenched in sweat, only you truly spent.

Jungkook eventually pulls out, cleaning you up with tissues from the nightstand, all while you watch, glowing ever so ethereal in your afterglow.

As Jungkook reaches for your clothes to dress you as he always does, you stop him with a hand on his tattooed arm. The boyish look he gives you is oddly endearing, and he senses you’re gathering all your confidence for your next words.

“Please don’t send me away.”

Your honesty hits him hard, and he straightens, realising he’s truly hit the jackpot with you.

“I won’t,” Jungkook promises, and with that, you leap around his neck, legs wrapping around his tiny waist, thanking him over and over as if he's you're knight in shining armour.

[lee-laurent]

My Biggest Hater - Jamie Drysdale

Summary: Jamie meets his biggest hater

content: fluff, angst, disapproving parents, kissing, mentions of sex, innuendos, mentions of break ups, engagements

wc: 9.6k

notes: enjoy!! i have serious writer's block atm, so this is the best i've got

Georgina Elwood was so in love with Jamie Drysdale that it hurt. The moment she set eyes on him through the glass of a Flyers game, she was hooked. And it was clear to anyone looking at that them that he felt exactly the same way.

But that wasn't how Georgina had ever planned her life going. She wasn't supposed to fall for an athlete, a hockey player. Her parents would never approve of that. Sports were seen as entertainment in her family and a rare entertainment at that. Sports weren't a serious career, a stable career. Yet, one night at the Well Fargos Centre changed everything for her.

~~

Georgina hadn't even planned to go to the game. It had been her best friend Olivia's idea, a spontaneous decision after a long week of studying for upcoming finals at UPenn. Olivia had convinced her with a mischevious grin and two tickets at the glass (Olivia had her parents' credit card).

"Come on, Georgie. Just one night of fun. You need a break from all the pressure. No one has to know," Olivia teased, slipping her arm through Georgie's as they walked toward the arena. The lights of Philadelphia flickered above them, the cool autumn air picking up leaves and spinning them all around. Georgie rolled her eyes, but secretly agreed with her best friend. Her parents would be horrified to know she was spending the evening watching a sport instead of spending it inside studying more than necessary.

She expected nothing more than a forgettable night--maybe a few laughs, some shit food, and minor ear damage. But as soon as they took their seats, Georgie's eyes were drawn to the player sporting 'Drysdale 9' on the back of his jersey.

She didn't really care about his name, just how skilled he was when it came to skating. He held her attention in a way she hadn't expected anyone at the game to. Every time the puck came near their seats, she found herself leaning forward to follow his every move.

"He's cute, huh?" Olivia nudged her, catching onto her staring.

"What? No," Georgie blushed, pretending to focus on the game. But she wasn't really watching the game. She was watching him. It was just him, gliding along the ice like it's what he was made to do.

And then, near the end of the second period, something unexpected happened. Jamie was checking the bench when, by pure chance, his eyes swept over the crowd behind it and landed directly on Georgina. It was just a brief moment, but their eyes locked.

Her breath caught in her throat.

He smiled. Not a flashy, "I'm-a-professional-athlete" kind of smile, but something subtle, almost shy, as if he was surprised that she had been looking at him.

"Georgie, he's totally looking at you!" Olivia squealed beside her, shaking her shoulders. Georgie tried to play it off, but the blush creeping up her face gave her away.

It felt ridiculous, but locking eyes with him felt right. Like they say in every romance novel ever--sparks.

It was after the game that things really changed. She was sitting in a bar with Olivia, sipping whatever fruity cocktail her friend had ordered for the two of them. Olivia was chattering excitedly about the game, not noticing how zoned-out Georgina was. She couldn't shake the image of Jamie's face when their eyes met.

"You're still thinking about him, aren't you?" Olivia teased.

"It's not like that."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say. But I saw that look. He was totally into you. I bet you could've got his number if he wasn't like... on the ice."

"I doubt he even remembers I exist. Besides, I'm not going to throw myself at some guy just because he smiled at me during a game."

"Whatever. Let me tell you about that cute guy from calc..."

The night wore on, and Georgie found herself listening to best friend yap and yap about the frat boy in their calc course. That was until Olivia nearly spilled her drink in excitement, pointing towards the door.

"Georgie! Look! Fucking look!" she hissed, grabbing her arm.

Jamie had just walked in, still wearing his post-game jacket and laughing with a couple of his teammates. He looked even better without the glass between them--tall, with tousled hair and freckles.

"We have to talk to him. Come on!"

"Olivia, no!" The last thing she wanted was to embarass herself in front of the guy she'd been caught staring at. "I am not doing this."

"You don't have to. I'll do it. Just act cool."

Before Georgina could protest, Olivia was already standing, waving Jamie and his teammates over with confidence. Jamie's eyes found hers again, a glimmer of recognition lighting up his face. He nudged his friend and in a few large strides they were standing next to the two girls.

"Hey," Jamie greeted. "You were at the game, right?"

"Yep! My best friend couldn't stop watching you," Olivia teased, shooting a look at Georgie. "She's a huge friend now, right, Georgie?"

She cleared her throat, forcing a smile. "It was... a good game."

"Glad you enjoyed it. Do you, uh, do you come to a lot of games?" Jamie asked, leaning in.

"This was actually my first one," she admitted. "I, um, I'm not super into sports."

"Really?" Jamie seemed genuinely surprised. "And yet you somehow ended up right at the glass?"

"That's all Olivia. She dragged me here tonight."

"Well, I'm glad she did," his voice made her stomach fill with butterflies. Before she could respond, he offered to buy her a drink. She agreed and every time she looked up that night, Jamie's eyes were already on her.

~~

Georgie awoke to the feeling of Jamie pressing kisses to her collar bone and neck. She sleepily reached up, blindly running a hand through his hair.

"Mmm, good morning."

"Morning, Gee," Jamie's voice was low and gravelly with sleep as he nestled closer, his arm draping over her waist. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better now," she whispered, tilting her head to give him more space to press kisses.

Moments like that, waking up beside him, felt like they were living in their own little world. A world where her parents' opinions didn't matter, where their judgement couldn't reach her. But deep down she knew she couldn't hide Jamie forever.

"You look like you're in deep thought," his lips brushing against her ear, his hand tracing patterns on her hip. He could read her like a book.

"Just thinking."

She hestitated. She hadn't told him yet about her plan to bring him to her parents' summer house. She wasn't even sure if it was the right move. Her parents had never met anyone she'd dated, and she had no idea how they'd react to Jamie. But she hated keeping their love a secret.

"Thinking about my parents."

Jamie's hand stopped it's slow carress. He knew how complicated things were when it came to her family. She had shared bit and pieces of growing up in Greenwich--how she went to boarding school, how her brother was a glorified frat boy, how her parents had unrealistic expectations for her entire life.

"You're still worried about them?"

"It's just... they're not like you. They won't understand us, not the way we do. And I'm not sure how to explain that to them without it turning into a disaster."

Jamie's jaw ticked. He had a vague understanding of her parents judginess, hence why he had yet to meet them in the 7 months that they'd been together. But he also didn't want the love of his life ripped from his arms because he wasn't what her father had pictured for his little princess.

"I love you Georgie," he leaned in to capture her lips in a loving kiss.

"I love you too, Jimmy," she mumbled against his mouth.

"Now, we've still got an hour until Cam comes home. So... are we taking advantage of this empty apartment or what?"

~~

Georgie sat on the couch, nervously twirling a loose thread on the Flyers shirt she'd stolen from Jamie. Jamie was in the kitchen making her her daily coffee, his back to her, completely unaware of the conversation she was about to start.

She'd been thinking about it for weeks--how to bring it up, how to convince him it was the right time. But every scenario that played out in her head made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Hey, Jamie?"

"Yeah?" He turned, two mugs in his hands, walking over to sit with her.

"I was thinking... maybe it's time for you to meet my parents."

The words hung in the air between them. Jamie placed the two mugs down on the coffee table, his eyes darkening with uncertainty.

"Georgie, we've talked about this," he said slowly, sitting back against the couch. "You know how your parents feel about... athletes. Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"I know it's complicated, Jamie, but I don't want to keep hiding you from them. It's been seven months. They're going to find out eventually and it'll probably be worse if we wait too long."

"But why now? What's the rush? It's not like they're begging to meet me. Hell, they don't even know I exist."

"That's the point, Jamie! I don't want to keep you a secret! I love you, and I want them to see what I see."

He stood up abruptly. "And what if they don't, Georgina? What if they don't see it? Hmm? You've told me enough about them for me to know that they've made up their minds about who's 'worthy' of their daughter. I'm just a dumb hockey player to them. Nothing more."

"Don't say that," she pleaded, standing up and reaching out to him. "You're so much more than that to me. I'm not asking for their approval--I'm asking for a chance."

"A chance for what? To be judged by people who look down on me because I play a sport for a living? You know how that'll go. And I don't want to go through that."

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, her voice breaking. Jamie never raised his voice at her like that. "Jamie, please. I can't keep living in two separate worlds like this. I love you, and I want them to know you. I'm trying to do the right thing."

He sighed, his frustration being replaced by exhaustion. "I get that you're trying, Georgie. But what happens when it goes to shit? What happens when they decide they don't approve? Are you ready for that? Because I'm not sure I am."

She had never considered the possibility of losing Jamie because her parents didn't approve.

"So, what are you saying?" she whispered.

"I'm saying that I don't want to be the reason your family turns against you. I can't watch that happen."

"So, what, you'd rather just keep things easy? Stay in our little bubble and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist?" Her voice rose, sharp with hurt... betrayal.

"That's not what I'm saying, Georgie, and you know it."

"Then what are you saying? Because right now, it sounds like you're just looking for an excuse to avoid them forever!"

"Maybe I am! Maybe I don't want to go somewhere where I know I'm not welcome. Did you ever think about that?"

The room went silent, then tension between them suffocating. Georgie felt her heart pounding in her chest, her head spinning. She turned away from him, running a hand through her hair. "I'm going home."

The clicked shut behind her, leaving Jamie standing in the living room. He sank into the couch, burying his face in his hands. He sat like that for a few minutes until his phone buzzed with a message from Cam.

Everything good? Heard some of it from my room. Wanna talk?

Not really. I don't know what to do, man. I think she's really pissed

~~

Georgie stormed into her apartment, throwing her keys on the counter. She let out a long, frustrated groan, running her hands through her hair.

Olivia looked up from the couch, a pint of ice cream in her lap. "Uh-oh. What happened?"

"He's being fucking impossible, Liv!" She made her way to the kitchen, pulling a bottle of white wine from the fridge and pouring herself an above average sized glass.

"Impossible how?" Liv asked, shoving the spoon in her mouth.

"He doesn't want to meet my parents. Like, at all. He think they'll judge him--well, actually, he knows they will. But that's not the point!" she exclaimed, hoisting herself up to sit on the kitchen island. "I get it, okay? My parents are... difficult people. But I love him, I want them to see how much love I have for him."

"Mmhmm. So, he's refusing to go? Flat-out?"

"Yeah! And he's making it sound like some horrible fucking trap I'm setting him up for. I'm not asking him to marry me for fuck's sake. I just want them to meet him. It's been seven months!"

"Okay, okay, slow down, Georgie. Come sit over here."

Georgie placed her wine on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch with a huff. Olivia handed her the ice cream without a word, and Georgie accepted it, digging in angrily.

"I just don't understand him! He just assumes the worst is going to happen. He thinks they're gonna like pull me out of school so he'll never see me again. I mean, sure, they're judgey as hell, but who's to say they won't come around when they see how happy I am?"

"I mean, Georgina, your parents aren't exactly known for being the most... open-minded people. You've told me plently horror stories about your dad giving guys that were just your friends the third degree for way less than being a professional athlete."

"I know, I know. But I thought they'd see how happy I am with him and... am I being delusional?"

"Not like totally. But def a bit. You have to like see where Jamie's coming from. He's just trying to protect himself--and probably you--from a big mess. Maybe he's scared of putting you in a position where you have to choose."

"He actually said something like that. He doesn't want to be the reason my family turns against me. But that's not fair. He's not the problem. My parents are! I can't live like this though, Liv. Pretending they don't exist, or pretending the love of my life doesn't exist? It's exhausting."

Olivia nodded slowly, taking the spoon from Georgie's hand and grabbing herself a bite. "Okay, let's break this down. You're in love with him, right?"

Georgie shot her a look. "Obviously."

"And you want him to be a part of your life, like, all of it?"

"Yes!"

"Then maybe, the like real issue is timing. Maybe Jamie needs more time to wrap his head around dealing with Joan and Michael. And maybe you need to figure out how to handle them, with or without his help. You guys need to be on the same page about what happens next, Gee."

Olivia always had a way of making things sound much more logical. "I just hate that I've made him feel like he isn't enough. I wasn't trying to, I guess it just came out wrong. He got so mad, Liv. Like more than he does on the ice. He even said he might be avoiding meeting them altogether."

"Yikes. Yeah, that's a tough one. But look, if you're both like serious about each other, you'll figure this out. Let him cool off and then talk about it again. And maybe give him some reassurance that whatever happens isn't a dealbreaker for you."

"You're right, Liv. God, you're like always right. I shouldn't have pusehd him. But like what if the longer I wait, the bigger the gap between him and my parents becomes?"

"You two are going to figure this out. Just give him some space. He'll def reach out when he's ready. That's how your Jimmy is, right?"

"I love you, Livvy."

"I love you more, Gee."

~~

Olivia grabbed her bag from her bedroom, slipping her phone into the front pocket of her jeans. Georgie watched from the couch, still holding her now-empty wine glass.

"You're leaving?" Liv was never one to cut girl talk short, especially after a rant like that one.

Olivia grinned, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "I'm giving you and Jimmy some space. You guys need to talk without me lurking around like a psycho killer. Plus..." she wiggled her eyebrows. "Let's be honest, you probably need the apartment for some make-up sex."

"Liv!"

"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it. And you two fuck like rabbits. Have been since the first night you met."

Georgie blushed, covering her face with a throw pillow.

"But seriously, talk to him. I'm crashing at Claire's for the night, so you two better be cuddling when I return, got it?"

"Thanks, Livvy. Love you."

"Love you more!" she shouted over her shoulder as she left. "Good luck with Jimbo!"

The apartment fell silent and she sat there for a few minutes, her thumb hovering over Jamie's contact. But before she could click call, the door unlocked, and in walked Jamie. He looked so tired--his hair disheveled, his shoulders tense, but his eyes softened when he saw her on the couch.

"Spare key. Sorry for not knocking, wasn't sure you'd answer if I did," he admitted.

"Hi."

"I'm sorry, Gee. I shouldn't have raised my voice. I just--everything about this situation freaks me the fuck out. I didn't mean to hurt you or push you away."

She shook her head, walking over to him. "No, Jamie. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should never have pushed you like that. I was just too focused on my fear of losing you, and I wasn't thinking about how hard this must be for you. I know what my parents are like, and it's not fair for me to just expect you to be okay with all of it."

Jamie sighed, taking her hands in his. "I get why you want me to meet them, and I get that this is very important to you. But I wasn't ready... I wasn't sure if I could deal with whatever they throw at me. But now..." He paused. "I'm ready, Georgina. I want to do this. For you. Because I love you."

Georgie blinked, stunned. "You... you're ready?"

"Yeah, I thought about it a lot after you left. I don't want to keep pretending like your family doesn't exist. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, but we'll figure it out. Together."

"Oh my God, Jamie!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I can't believe this! Are you serious? You're really ready?"

Jamie chuckled, hugging her tightly. "Yes, babe. I am."

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her hands coming up to cup his face as she kissed him, pouring every ounce of her love into it. He kissed her back, his hands holding her waist like he never wanted to let go.

When they finally pulled away, Georgie rested her forehead against his, her voice soft. "Thank you. I love you so, so much, Jamie."

"I love you too, Georgie," he murmured, his lips brushing hers one last time before he smiled. "Now, how about we head to bed? We've got some cuddling to catch up on."

"You read my mind."

They walked into her bedroom, hand in hand. The weight of the argument had lifted, and for the first time in the last few hours, Georgie felt a strange sense of peace. She stripped down so she was just in Jamie's shirt, before nestling her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They were going to face things. Together.

~~

Georgie was once again staring at her phone, but this time it wasn't Jamie's contact she was staring at, it was her mom's. She had rehearsed the conversation, but somehow, none the options seemed right. With a deep breath, she clicked dial and held the phone to her ear.

"Georgina, darling! What a lovely surprise," her mother's shrill voice filled her ear.

"Hi, Mom." Georgie tried to keep her tone light, but her nervousness was already making her voice crack. "How are you and Daddy?"

"Oh, we're fine. Just finalizing some details for your father's work gala next month. You know how he gets about these events. What about you, dear? How's school? You must be knee-deep in preparations for next school year."

"Yeah, school's good," Georgie winced, realizing she was in fact stalling. "Actually, I'm calling because... well, I'm coming up to the summer house next weekend, and I'm bringing someone with me."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.

"Bringing someone?" Her mother's voice sharpened. "Who is this someone, Georgina? You've never mentioned anyone before."

"Yeah, well... I've been seeing someone for a while now. He's... my boyfriend."

Her mother laughed, "A boyfriend? Oh, my. And you're only just now telling us?"

Georgie bit her lip, regretting not easing her mother into the conversation. "Yeah, I know. I just... wanted to make sure things were serious before I introduced him to you and Daddy."

"That's exciting news! What's his name?"

"Jamie. His name's Jamie."

"Jamie...?" Her mother's voice trailed off, clearly waiting for more information.

"Jamie Drysdale," she replied, praying her mom wouldn't recognize the name immediately. She wouldn't. She didn't watch sports. But... what if she did?

"Hmm. Drysdale. That's not a last name I know. What does he do, dear? Is he a student as well?"

"He's not in school. He, uh, he works actually." She mentally kicked herself for how stupidly vague she sounded, but she wasn't about to drop the hockey bomb over the phone.

"Works? Doing what, exactly? Is he older? Surely you're not dating a... blue collar boy," she sounded disgusted at the idea.

"No, no. It's, uh, complicated. I'll explain everything when we're there. But he's great, Mom. Really. You and Daddy will love him." Georgie crossed her fingers, praying that she wasn't overselling it.

"Well, I hope so. I trust you've chosen wisely. Your father will be very interested to meet him."

"Yeah, I'm... sure he will."

"We're just surprised, Georgina. You've never kept secrets from us before. But if you're happy, then we're happy for you."

"Thanks, Mom. I really think you'll like him. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before we arrive. We'll take Jamie's car."

"Of course, dear. We'll be expecting you both. Saturday, yes?"

"Yes, Saturday."

"Well, I'll let your father know. He'll be very curious, I'm sure. You know how is about meeting everyone new. We're looking forward to it, Georgina. And this Jamie character--well, we'll just have to see, won't we?"

"Yeah, we'll see."

"Alright, darling. I must let you go, your father needs my help. Be sure to tell Jamie that we're looking forward to meeting him."

"I will. See you next weekend."

"Goodbye, dear. Love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

She hung up and let out a long breath. Well, that certainly went better than expected. But the real test would be the weekend--when her parents found out that their daughter's boyfriend was a professional hockey player.

~~

Jamie could feel Georgie's eyes on him from the passenger seat. She seemed laser-focused on the side of his face, her mind spinning. He had one hand on the wheel, the other on her thigh. She finally took a deep breath and blinked.

"Okay. I guess we should talk about what to expect."

Jamie raised an eyebrow. "This is about your parents, huh?"

"Yeah... there are a few things you should know before we get there."

Jamie's hand squeezed her thigh, something he often did to reassure her. "Alright, hit me, baby. What am I walking into?"

"First of all, my dad's name is Michael. He's... intense. He's the CEO of an investment firm--Elwood Capital. Very old money, very... opinionated." She paused. "He values success, status, and manners. So, just like be polite, answer his questions, and don't take anything he says too personally."

"Got it. What about your mom?"

"My mom, Joan, is well... she's a classic socialite. She's all about image and reputation. She love's entertaining, so don't be surprised if she goes all out for our visit. She'll probably ask about your background, family, that kind of thing. She's not as harsh as my dad, but she definitely has 'old-fashioned' views."

"'Old-fashioned' as in..."

"As in they'll probably ask when we're getting married and having kids."

"Seriously?" Jamie blinked in surprise.

"Oh, yeah," Georgie rolled her eyes. "In their world, that's the next step after dating for seven months. They have no concept of 'taking things slow.' Just brace yourself."

"Alright. Noted. So... Michael and Joan. Old money. Probably want grandkids ASAP." He shot her a playful look. "Anything else?"

Georgie winced slightly, knowing the next part would be the hardest for Jamie. "Yeah... one more thing. My parents don't call me 'Georgie.' They think it's a boy's name. So when we're there, you'll need to call me Georgina. I know it's weird, but... it's like one of their 'rules.'"

"I can do that. Georgina it is."

"Thanks, babe," she murmured. "It's just... they have this whole thing about appearances. You'll notice they care a shit ton about manners and stuff. It's like super formal. I've spent my whole life playing the role, and I just--" She trailed off, blinking rapidly. "I don't want you to feel like you have to be someone you're not. But I also don't want to give them a reason to be... difficult. More difficult than usual."

"Hey, I get it. I'm not going to pretend this won't be awkward, but I'll handle it. I love you, and I want to be there for you, even if your parents ask me when we're having kids after dinner." He smirked, trying to lighten the mood in the car.

"You're like seriously amazing, you know that?"

"I try," he removed his hand from her thigh, lacing their fingers together.

After a moment of silence, Georgie spoke up again. "Oh, and my brother Brooks will be there too. He's... your typical frat boy."

"Frat boy?"

"Yeah. He's studying finance at Cornell, and he's... like a lot to handle. He's not as formal as my parents are, but he's always trying to prove something. I'm sure he'll grill you about your job or try to make a competition out of nothing."

"Sounds fun," Jamie said dryly.

"Just ignore him. He can be annoying, but he's harmless," she added with a sigh. "He might make a few snide comments, but you don't have to take him seriously. I definitely don't."

"Alright. So, to recap: I'm going to meet Michael the CEO, Joan the socialite, and Brooks the frat boy. I'm going to call you Georgina, use all my manners, and probably dodge some invasive questions about marriage and kids. How am I doing so far?"

"You're doing great. I just... I hope it goes okay. They don't know you're a hockey player yet. I figured we'd save that when we're actually there. One hurdle at a time, right?"

"Yeah... figured that'd come up eventually."

"We'll handle it together, okay? No matter what."

"Yep. Together," he raised their conjoined hands to his mouth and gave them a quick kiss.

Thet were feeling a bit more at ease, but the storm was waiting for them at the summer house.

~~

The summer house was not what Jamie expected. When he thought of a 'summer house' he imagined a cabin or a cottage near the water. Instead he saw a mansion with a sprawling estate, perfectly manicured lawns and tall, pristine windows.

"Ready?" Jamie asked.

"As I'll ever be," she forced a smile. "Just remember... Georgina."

He grinned softly. "I got it. Georgina."

As they stepped out of the car, her parents were already waiting at the entrance, the imposing figure of her father standing next to her elegantly dressed mother. Brooks was lounging on a lawn chair on the porch, sipping what was definitely a whisky on the rocks, his signature smirk already plastered on his face.

"Georgina!" Her mother screeched, arms outstretched in gretting. "It's been too long, darling." She pulled Georgie into a very quick hug before shifting her attention to Jamie. "And this must be Jamie."

Jamie smiled, extending his hand. "Yes, ma'am. It's great to meet you Mrs. Elwood."

"Please, call me Joan," her mother replied smoothly, though the way she was looking at him was nothing short of calculating.

Her father stepped up next, his handshake firm, bodering on intense. "Michael Elwood. Welcome to our home, Jamie." His eyes lingered a little longer than necessary, as if he were also weighing him in his mind.

"Thank you, sir. It's a pleasure to be here," Jamie replied. His tone was just as perfect as Georgie had imagined.

As they moved inside, Georgie felt her brother's eyes on her. He hadn't said a word yet, but the smirk on his face said enough.

"What's up, Georgina," Brooks drawled lazily, making no attempt to get up from his chair. "Long time no see."

"Good to see you too, Brooks."

His eyes shifted to Jamie, his smirk growing... if that was possible. "So, this is the famous boyfriend, huh? Didn't think you'd ever bring someone home. Must be serious."

Georgie shot him a warning glance, but before she could snap back, Joan cut in.

"Brooks, don't be rude," she said, though her tone was more dismissive than it was chastising. "Georgina, darling, let's sit down for some drinks before dinner. Jamie, you must tell me about yourself. We know so little about you."

Jamie nodded, following the family into the living room. The walls were adorned with family portraits and antique furniture, each piece screaming money. Georgie sat beside Jamie on the sofa, her hand slipping into his.

Joan handed out drinks as Michael settled in a large leather armchair.

"So Jamie," Michael began, his tone measured. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from Toronto originally, but I've been in the U.S. for a while now."

"Toronto. Quite a respectable city," he leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on Jamie. "And what is it that brought you to the states?"

Jamie kept his smile, but Georgie felt his hand tighten around hers.

"Work, mostly," Jamie replied smoothly. "Lots of great opportunities here."

"And what line of work are you in?"

Before Jamie could answer, Brooks let out a loud laugh, cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. "You really think Georgina would date a guy who can't afford a place like this?" He gestured around the room. "Relax, Dad. I'm sure Jamie here is doing quite well for himself."

The comment, while rude, gave Jamie time to avoid answering directly. Georgie shot Brooks a glare, but he just smiled right back at her.

"I'm lucky to be in a good position," Jamie replied, dodging the specifics of it.

Joan smiled, "Of course, dear. You seem quite composed." She turned to Georgie. "And how did the two of you meet?"

Georgie hesitated for a split second. The last thing she wanted to say was "at a hockey game," but before she could make up a response, Jamie jumped in.

"Through mutual friends," he said easily. "It was one of those on a whim connections that really just clicked."

~~

Later that evening, the four of them sat around the large dinging table, silverware clinking against china plates. Brook had been relatively quiet at dinner, only making a few snide comments about Georgie bringing someone home after all these years.

"So, Jamie," Joan asked, dabbing her mouth with a napkin, "what are your future plans? Are you thinking of settling down soon?"

Georgie nearly choked on her wine.

Jamie cleared his throat, caught off guard by how quickly the question had come. "We're happy where we are right now. We're taking things step by step."

"Step by step," Michael echoed, his expression unreadable. "Interesting approach."

As the conversation continued, Jamie slipped up, almost reflexively saying, "What do you think, Georgi--" before catching himself. His eyes darted to her father, who looked up quickly.

"What Jamie meant to say was, what do you think, Georgina?"

Her father stared at him a long, agonizing few seconds before nodding. "Right. Georgina."

The room grew uncomfortably silent before Joan stepped in, "Well, it's been a lovely evening, but I think it's time for a nightcap in the sitting room, don't you think?"

~~

Georgie stepped into the extravagant bedroom she'd made hers, flicking on the soft, golden lights. The space was luxurious as ever--thick drapes, an oversized canopy bed, and rich mahogany furniture. She always felt like an outsider in this house, like she playing pretend.

Jamie let out a low whistle, eyeing up the room's decor. "This is... next level, Georgina."

"You don't have to use that name when it's just us," she shuddered.

"I know. But I'm practicing for tomorrow."

"I think we survived today, don't you?" she asked, leaning against the bedpost.

Jamie walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest. "I'd say we did pretty well. Your parents don't seem to hate me, and your dad didn't grill me too hard. I call that a win."

"Yeah, well, it's only day one. Brooks hasn't really gotten started yet, and tomorrow's going to be full of questions."

"We'll handle it. You were great tonight."

"Thanks," she murmured, pulling away from his arms and walking toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna shower. You should get ready for bed too."

Jamie sat on the edge of the massive bed, letting the events of the night replay in his mind. Dinner had gone better than he had expected, but it was still a tightrope act, not saying he wasn't a hockey player but also not saying he was.

Michael seemed like the type of guy who could sniff out weakness from several miles away. And while Jamie had managed to dodge the career question today, it was certain to come up again.

He stood up and pulled off his shirt, slipping into the pajamas Georgie had packed him--way fancier than his usual boxers... or nothing. He chuckled, shaking his head as he looked through the other clothes she'd packed. It looked like he was dressing in his pre-game suit almost everyday.

A few minutes later, Georgie emerged from the bathroom, her wet hair already curling at the ends and her body wrapped in one of Jamie's Flyers shirts she'd stolen months ago. She tossed the towel over a chair and climbed into bed with him, the mattress sinking under her.

"So, how do you think it went?" Jamie asked, trailing his fingers up her arm.

"Honestly?" she turned to face him, resting her head on his chest. "Better than I expected. My parents were... well, they were less intense than usual. And Brooks hasn't been too obnoxious yet, which is a miracle."

"I noticed your dad sizing me up, but he didn't go full interrogation mode. That was a relief."

"Yeah, that's win. I think they're still trying figure you out. But they liked you, I could tell."

Jamie brushed his lips against her temple. "Good. As long as they don't hate me, I'll take it."

Georgie smiled, tilting her head to kiss him. The kiss started sweet, but quickly deepened, her hand sliding into his hair as their bodies pressed together under the plush duvet. Jamie's hands reached down to her ass, squeezing as he pulled her closer.

Just as things were heating up, the door burst open.

"Georgina!" Brooks' voice rang through the room, as loud and annoying as ever. "Oh, shit, sorry! Didn't mean to interrupt your little... thing."

Georgie shot up, pulling away from Jamie who groaned. "Brooks, what the hell? Get out! Have you never head of knocking?"

"Relax, Georgina! I just wanted to see how lover boy here is settling in. Didn't realize you two were... busy. Sorry to interrupt your... bonding time."

Jamie forced a smile, clearly trying to hide his irritation. "Everything's fine, Brooks."

"Good, good. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. Just wanted to say, Jamie, you survived round one. But don't get too comfortable," he chuckled, turning on his heel and leaving.

Georgie fell back on the pillows with a groan. "God, he's fucking insufferable."

Jamie laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Hey, at least he didn't walk in five minutes later."

"That's one way to look at it."

Jamie smirked, pulling her back into his arms. "Now, where were we?"

~~

Georgie and Jamie entered the dining room together, the table already meticulously set. Michael was at the head of the table, his newspaper folded neatly beside him. Joan sat to his right, sipping from an expensive looking teacup, while Brooks lounged in his chair, his breakfast barely touched.

"Good morning, Georgina, Jamie," Joan smiled, gesturing for them to sit down. "Did you sleep well?"

"We did, thank you," Georgie smiled, taking a seat next to Jamie, who was still adjusting to his new surroundings.

"I was just telling your mother," Michael began, folding his hands in front of him, "that I'd like to get to know more about you, Jamie. We didn't get to dig too deeply into your background yesterday."

Georgie internally groaned. Here we go.

Jamie just smiled, reaching for the coffee pot. "Of course, sir. What would you like to know?"

"Let's start with your family." Michael spoke with the tone he used with clients. He was acting like he was conducting a fucking business meeting. "Where do they live? What do they do?"

"My family's still in Toronto. My dad's a construction manager and my mom is a teacher."

"Hmm, working class. Must've been quite the change for you, being in the States then?"

"It was, but I've adjusted."

Brooks snorted into his coffee. "Yeah, sounds like a big shift. Not everyone's used to... this kind of life, right, Jamie?" He waved his hand around the room, clearly enjoying his subtle jab.

"Brooks," Georgie snapped.

"What? I'm just making conversation. I mean, Jamie here's gotta be doing pretty well for himself if he's hanging with us, right?"

"I'm doing alright," Jamie shrugged.

As breakfast continued, Joan took a more pleasant, if not extremely pressuring approach.

"So, Jamie," she began sweetly. "Georgina's father and I were talking last night. And we couldn't help but wonder--you said you're taking things step by step. But you've been together... what was it? 7 months? That's an awful long time to not think about marriage or children."

"Mom!"

"What? I'm just curious," Joan said with a light laugh. "I think it's a fair question. I mean, I'd love a grandbaby or two soon."

Brooks took that as his cue to jump in, "Yeah, I bet you guys have been practicing lots."

Georgie turned bright red. "Brooks, shut up!"

"Brooks, enough," Michael boomed, though he didn't seem like he fully understood the joke. "But your mother's right. You've been together a while now. What's next?"

"We're not rushing into anything, Daddy. We're happy."

"Well, as long as you're happy."

~~

By the time that lunch rolled around, the questions had been relentless. Michael and Brooks had been shooting questions at Jamie, left, right, and centre. As they sat down for another formal meal, Michael decided it was time to be straightforward once more.

"So, Jamie, I've been wondering about your work. You mentioned you came to the States for career opportunities. What exactly do you do?"

Jamie hestitated for a moment, knowing there was no ducking out of this one. He met Georgie's eyes, and she gave him a small nod.

"I'm a professional hockey player."

The room went silent. Brooks' fork clattered onto his plate, while Joan's expression was frozen in a mask of surprise.

"A... hockey player?" Michael asked, it was clear from his tone that he didn't find that nearly as respectable as he'd hoped. "As in... professional sports?"

"Yes, sir. I play for the Philadelphia Flyers."

Joan blinked. "Well, that's certainly... unexpected."

Brooks, on the other hand, couldn't hold back his laughter. "Wait, wait--you're telling me you're a jock?" He slapped the table, howling. "And here I was thinking you were some kinda bigshot investor or something! Georgina's dating a fucking jock! That's gold!"

"Brooks, stop it," Georgina glared.

"And how long do you think this career will last, Jamie? Professional sports aren't exactly known for their longevity, are they?" Michael ignored his son's antics.

"I'm aware it's not a forever career. But I'm building a future for myself beyond playing. I have a strong support system and I'm taking steps to ensure my financial stability."

"Hmm. I suppose that's... something."

Joan smiled tightly. "Well, it's certainly... different. Not exactly what we expected, but if Georgina's happy, then I suppose that's all that matters."

Brooks leaned forward, still chuckling to himself. "Well, this weekend just got a hell of a lot more interesting."

Jamie and Georgina excused themselves to the garden to get some fresh air. But mostly to distance themselves from the judgement inside.

"That went about as well as I expected," Jamie said drly.

"I'm so sorry, Jamie. They're just... like that. I knew they wouldn't get it right away."

"It's fine. I just didn't think it would feel this... awkward."

"They'll come around," Georgie insisted, though she wasn't sure she completely believed it herself.

Jamie nodded, pulling her closer as they walked through the garden. "At least we don't have to hide it anymore."

~~

The door to the office clicked shut behind Georgie. Why her dad needed an office at a house that was meant for relaxing was beyond her, but there she was. Michael sat behind his desk, his gaze laser focused on his daughter. She had known this was coming, but it didn't make it any easier.

"Sit down, Georgina."

She obeyed without a word, sinking into the leather chair opposite him. Her hands rested in her lap, picking at her fingernails as she waited for him to speak.

"I wanted to have this conversation with you privately. I didn't think it was appropriate to discuss in front of your mother or Brooks, but I need to make my concerns about Jamie clear."

Georgie didn't react. She's been taught not to talk back--to listen and absorb everything her parents said, even if it made her feel sick to her stomach.

"Georgina, a professional athlete... it's not the kind of career that provides stability. His schedule alone will keep him away from home most of the time. And if you decide to start a family..." he trailed off. "He won't be there."

Georgie clenched her fists tighter, willing herself to stay composed.

"And then there's the matter of the career itself," he scoffed. "Hockey players... they don't exactly need to be intellectuals. It's a sport, Georgina. It's not a career that requires real intelligence or long-term thinking. What happens when he gets injured? One bad hit, and it's all over. You'll be left with a man who has no real skills to fall back on. Is that really what you want for your future?"

"I want the best for you. I really do. You come from a family that values success, security, and stability. Jamie can't give you that, Georgina. His career could end tomorrow, and then what? You'll be left to pick up the pieces?"

Everything in her life was supposed to fit into a neat, respectable box. And she'd broken that. She knew that her father expected her to agree, to nod and promise to reconsider, to make the "right" choice. But she couldn't. And she wouldn't.

For the first time since sitting down, she met his eyes. "I love him, Daddy."

Michael leaned forward, letting out a slow breath. "Love is important, Georgina, but it's not enough. You're thinking with your heart, not your head. I'm trying to make sure you understand what you're getting yourself into."

Her hands were trembling in her lap. She didn't want to argue with him. She didn't try to defend Jamie or explain why they worked. Because she knew it wouldn't matter to him. Her father had already made up his mind.

Instead, she repeated herself. "I love him."

"You're an adult now, Georgina. I can't stop you from making your own decisions." His tone was cold, distant. "But I hope you understand the risks that you're taking."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, that's all."

Without another word, Georgie exited the office, her heart beating like a drum. Her whole body felt heavy and all she wanted to do was run to her room and scream into a pillow until she felt normal again. But first she had to find Jamie.

~~

At the same time Georgie was talking with her dad, Jamie was talking with Brooks. But rather than an office, they were sat in the living room. Brooks had his feet kicked up on the couch like he owned the place. Jamie was trying to embrace the silence, but Brooks wasn't the type for that.

"So, Jamie," his voice dripped with condescension, "let me get this straight--you play hockey for a living?"

Jamie, who had been scrolling through Instagram, glanced up. "Yeah. I play for the Flyers."

"Right. The Flyers. And how long do you think that's going to last?" He chuckled, clearly amused with his own question. "I mean, sports careers aren't exactly... permanent, are they? A couple bad hits, a bad knee, and boom--you're done."

Jamie set his phone down. He'd expected some grilling from Brooks, but his smug attitude was starting to grate on him. "Yeah, I'm aware it's not forever. But I've been smart about it. I'm planning for a life after hockey."

"Right. Cause I'm sure you have time for that while you're chasing pucks around the ice. Tell me, Jamie, what happens when it's all over? When your fifteen minutes are up? You think you're gonna be some big shot, or are you going to be a washed-up athlete, living off whatever's left in your savings? What's the plan when my sister leaves you because you've got nothing left to give?"

"I'm not worried about that, Brooks."

"Oh, sure you aren't. What's the backup plan? When hockey's done, what're you gonna do? Coach some peewee league? Work at a sports bar? Or just ride Georgina's coattails?"

Jamie's hands balled into fists. Brooks was making it personal now, but Jamie refused to let him get under his skin. "I'm not planning to fail, Brooks. I've worked hard to get where I am, and I'm doing everything I can to make sure I'm set for the future. I don't need a backup plan because I'm building my future now."

"You know, I don't get it. What does my sister see in you? Sure, you've got the whole 'athlete' thing going for you, but... what else? What happens when the fame fades and the money's not rolling in? You think you're going to be able to keep up with Georgina's lifestyle."

"Georgie and I don't live your lifestyle. We have our own."

"Right. Your own. You do realize the kind of family you're dealing with, right? My parents aren't just rich--they're legacy. This whole life, this world, is built on families like ours. And you? You're just some guy who got lucky with a stick and puck. Got even luckier when a rich girl fell for your whole 'pretty boy' act. You think you're gonna hold up under that kind of pressure?"

"I'm not here for approval, Brooks. I love Georgie and she loves me. That's all that matters."

"Good luck with that, Jamie," he laughed. "Because love doesn't pay the bills."

~~

Georgie sat next to the bath, running her hand under the water to find the perfect temperature to wash away the day. The door clicked and in walked Jamie, his expression tight.

"Hey," she whispered, turning to look up at him. "I was thinking... maybe we could take a bath? Just... relax for a bit."

"A bath?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "This place is fancy, might as well use it. Plus... we could both use a break from the outside world, don't you think?"

Jamie smiled softly, "Alright, a bath it is."

They undressed in a comfortable silence, the day's stress already fading away with the steam rising from the tub. Jamie slid in first, leaning back against the curved edge of the tub. Once he was settled, Georgie climed in and rested her back against his chest. Jamie closed his eyes, leaning his head against the back of the tub, while Georgie played with his hand, the tension draining from his body.

"Brooks have you a hard time, didn't he?"

"Yeah, you could say that. He pretty much tore into me, picking every piece of me apart." He rested his other hand on his knee, not opening his eyes as he spoke. "He was throwing every insult he could think of. Basically said I'm a jock with no future and that I'm only with you because of your family's money."

"I'm sorry, Jamie. Brooks doesn't know when to stop. He's... he's such an asshole."

Jamie shook his head, "It's not your fault. I knew it wouldn't be easy with him, or dad for that matter."

"Speaking of my dad... we had a conversation too."

"What did he say?"

"He told me that he's worried. That you're not... stable. That your career could end at any moment, and he doesn't think it's a smart choice for me to be with you."

Jamie's jaw tightened. "So he thinks I'm a temporary thing?"

"It's more than that," she replied, tracing patterns on the surface of the water. "He doesn't think being a hockey player requires intelligence. He kept saying you don't have 'real skills' and asked what would happen if you get injured. He was so... dismissive."

"I'm not going to say I'm surprised. Your dad made it pretty fucking clear he doesn't think much of me. He didn't have to say it outright."

"I hated it. I sat there and let him pick you apart like you're some kind of... I don't know, risk? But all I could tell him was that I love you. That was all I could say."

"That's enough, Gee. You don't need to justify anything to them. I know it's hard, but we're on the same page, and we'll get through it."

"I just wish they could see you the way I do."

"Maybe they will," he brought his hand up to rub her shoulders. "Maybe they won't. But I'm not going anywhere, no matter what they think."

"I'm so lucky to have you," she leaned into his touch.

"I think I'm the lucky one."

Gee turned around, sloshing water onto the floor in the process, but she didn't care. She cupped his cheeks and kissed him. For a while they just sat there, enjoying each other's company, stealing the occasional kiss. As long as they had each other, they could survive anything.

~~

Tension radiated from Jamie, his posture rigid. He'd barely touched the soup that had been placed in front of him. Georgie had only looked at her food, her stomach much to upset to eat. She was hyper-aware of the silence that fell whenever Jamie answered someone's question or when Brooks threw in an unnecessary comment.

"You know," Brooks said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I never realized my sister had such low standards. I mean, a hockey player? I guess you've got one hell of a personality, because you sure don't have much else going for you."

Jamie's jaw clenched for the thousandth time that day, his eyes darting to Georgie, waiting for her to speak. But she couldn't. She couldn't form any words. Her parents exchanged uncomfortable looks, but neither made a move to stop him. It was if they were waiting to see how it played out, complicit in his cruel jokes.

Brooks wasn't done. "I mean, come on, Georgina. You could do better. Or are you so easy you'll settle for someone this fucking pathetic?"

Something inside Georgie snapped.

Her hands slammed on the table, silverware rattling. "That's enough, Brooks!" Her voice was filled with a fury she'd never let show in front of her family. Her whole body trembled as the words spilled out before she could stop herself.

"How dare you talk about Jamie like that? You have no idea who is, what he's accomplished. He's a thousand times the person you'll ever be, and I'm tired of pretending like I'm okay with your constant insults and fucking disrespect!"

She turned to her parents.

"And you two! You sit there and let him say these horrible things! You act like it's fine because it's Brooks, and that's what he does. But it's not fine! None of this is fine!"

Jamie reached for her hand under the table, but she pulled away, standing up. "Jamie is the love of my life! Do you hear me? I'm going to marry him someday! And I don't care what any of you have to say about it!"

Her mother gasped, raising a hand to her heart. Her father's face grew stony, clearly disapproving of her outburst. But Georgie didn't care what they thought. She was far beyond the the point of caring.

"You don't get to judge him! You don't get to make me feel ashamed for loving him, and you don't decide who I'm 'supposed' to be with. Jamie and I are building a life together! If you can't deal with that, you won't be seeing me ever again. I'm done. With the insults, with the judgement. Fucking all of it!"

"Let's go," she whispered to Jamie, taking his hand in hers as they exited the dining room.

"Georgina--"

"No," she interrupted her father, "I said what I needed to say. If you can't accept Jamie, then you can't have me in your lives."

With that, she and Jamie left the room, the slam of the door sending shockwaves through the whole room.

~~

Georgie and Jamie left the grand house behind them, still walking hand in hand. Neither of them had spoken since they packed their things and walked out--there was too much to process, too much had just happened at once. They didn't speak until they reached the car when Jamie broke the silence.

"You okay?" he asked, turning to face her.

Georgie sighed, leaning against the car. "I don't know," she admitted. "I mean yes... I'm okay. But I just... can't believe I actually just did that. I've never stood up to them like that before."

"You were amazing in there, Georgie. You didn't just stand up to them... you like stood up for us. For me."

Georgie leaned her head on his chest. "I couldn't listen to it anymore. My dad, Brooks... all the judgement. I just snapped. But I meant every word of it, Jamie. I meant it when I said I'm going to marry you one day."

Jamie's eyes widened. He knew how serious they were about each other, but hearing her say it, especially under such emotional circumstances, made him feel a way he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.

"You know... we don't have to wait."

"What do you mean?" she pulled away from his chest, blinking rapidly.

"I mean, we don't have to wait for 'someday.' I don't have a ring right now, but this isn't some grand proposal... but I love you, Georgie. And after the weekend we've been through... I don't want to wait. Let's do it. Let's get married."

Georgie couldn't believe her ears. It wasn't the proposal she'd dreamed of growing up--not a fancy dinner, not on exotic vacation, and with no ring. It was so unbelievably Jamie. And none of that mattered. What mattered was him. What mattered was them, together.

"Are you serious?" she whispered.

"Completly serious. I know it's not traditional in any sense of the word, but we can figure out the details later. You're it for me, Georgie. You're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I love you. Let's start the rest of our lives. No more waiting."

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and she laughed her way through them. "Oh my God, Jamie. Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."

Jamie pulled her into a kiss, holding her close. It wasn't the picture perfect proposal. It wasn't grand or over-the-top. But it was real. It was them.

When they finally pulled apart, Georgie wiped at her eyes. "I can't believe we're actually doing this."

"We are. Together, no matte what. Your family might come around one day, maybe they won't. But it doesn't matter, Georgie. I promise you that."

"I know. And I don't care what happens with them right now. All I know is that I need to be with you."

"Then it's settled. We're getting married. Me and you."

"You and me."

They stood there for a few more minutes, just wrapped in each other's arms. There were still so many things they had to figure out--but for now, none of that mattered. All that mattered is that they had each other. And they were ready to take on the world.

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑠𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

previous | story masterlist | next

“Draw two,” Sasaki says. 

“I’ll add another draw two. So now [Name] has to draw four,” Iguchi follows up, throwing another card onto the pile.

You stare at the two cards left in your hand, and then you cast a glance beside you, over to poor Itadori, who’s easily holding more than ten. Part of you wonders if you should be nice and spare him, since he’s clearly suffering more than enough already, but then again, this is Uno. 

Uno is just about as cutthroat as it gets. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, wincing a bit as you add another card onto the pile. “I still have a draw four card left… which means Itadori has to pick up eight cards in total. Also, um, Uno.” 

“No way!” he cries out, and you swear you see his soul leave his body. 

Sasaki throws her head back and starts laughing. “Man, Itadori, you stink at this! I swear you’ve placed last every single time we’ve played. It’s actually kind of impressive how unlucky you can be sometimes.”

“I haven’t lost yet,” Itadori stubbornly refutes, but of course, within the next round, you win, and Sasaki and Iguchi quickly follow suit. 

You watch as Itadori’s shoulders slump in defeat. 

“Fine, now I lost,” he sighs. Most people would probably be pretty frustrated seeing as he’s lost more than four—or is it five games in a row now? In any case, Uno tends to ruin friendships and drive people insane, but since this is Itadori, it only takes a few brief moments of adorable sulking for him to perk up again. “Alright, well, I’m ready for the next round!” 

Iguchi shakes his head. “Sorry, but no more. I’m starting to feel bad about beating you this badly.” 

“Really?” Sasaki blinks. “I’m having the time of my life.” 

“You don’t always have to voice your intrusive thoughts aloud, Sasaki.” 

“We can play more next time,” you say, gently patting Itadori on the shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ll win a bunch then. Enough to make up for all the losses from today.” 

“Doubt it,” Sasaki muses. 

“Sasaki, that’s seriously enough out of you,” Iguchi sighs.

“Alright, fine,” Itadori relents. He quickly glances towards the clock on the wall. “I guess it’s about time for me to head out anyway. It’d be nice to get to the hospital early for a change.” 

More than a week has passed since you first awoke in this world, and during that time, you’ve spent pretty much every day hanging out with Itadori. It’s quite literally a dream come to true to be able to talk to him like this. From the moment you discovered you attended the same school, you were already starstruck, but you figured you would only ever be able to stare at him longingly, from afar. Never in a million years did you imagine that you would actually become his friend. 

Even though your friendship is destined to be cut short, you’re determined to enjoy these blissful moments for as long as you can.

You and Itadori say goodbye to Sasaki and Iguchi, and the two of you walk out of the building together, stopping by a vending machine to grab some canned drinks. You crack your can open and sit down next to him, relishing in the fresh air paired with the cool liquid running down your throat. 

“Visiting your grandpa again, right?” you affirm. 

Itadori takes a big gulp, then nods. “Yeah. Same old, I guess. That’s another reason why it’s nice being part of the Occult Research Club. A lot of people have pestered me to join athletic clubs, but they run way too late. I wouldn’t be able to make it down to the hospital in time for visiting hours. It just works out better this way. Plus, hanging out with those guys is a lot of fun.”

“It’s nice that you always make an effort to visit him,” you say, smiling gently. “I’m sure he really appreciates the time he gets to spend with you. It must mean a lot to him.” 

“Well, I’m the only one he has left, so I’d feel really crappy if he had to spend every day all on his own.”

“Still. Not everyone would make sure to visit every single day, like you do. You’re really kind. You’re a good person, Itadori.” 

You hold your smile as you take another sip of your drink, and you don’t notice that Itadori is staring at you wide-eyed, at least, not until you turn and realize he’s nearly breathing down your neck. 

“Um,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed by how close he is, “y-yes? Is there… something on my face?” 

Itadori scratches his neck. “Uh. This might sound like a bit of a weird request and all, but I was just wondering if… maybe you wanted to come with me today?” 

“Come with you?” 

“Yeah. To visit my gramps. Since we got to talking and all, I figured maybe he’d like to see someone other than me for a change. To be honest, I don’t think he has much longer left. He’s always snapping at me for visiting him, saying I shouldn’t waste my time going to a depressing place like that, and that I should be spending time in clubs with my friends instead. Maybe he’ll feel better if he sees me bring a friend along. He won’t worry that I’m lonely, like he is.” 

You proceed to just stare at him, and although you didn’t intend for your gaze to be unsettling, Itadori lets out a nervous chuckle and quickly shakes his head.

“Aw, man, what am I even saying? Sorry. That was kind of weird. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to waste your free time going to a hospital, of all places. I didn’t mean to try and pressure you into anything. Just forget what I—” 

“I'll go,” you blurt. “If you're sure you want me to come with you, then yes. I'd be happy to meet your grandpa.”

Itadori blinks rapidly, clearly bewildered, but it doesn’t take long for one of those ridiculously cute smiles to spread across his lips. 

“Awesome! Thanks so much, [Name]. That’s really cool of you. I feel like you’re always the one doing me favors, even though it should be the other way around.” 

“It’s not a favor,” you reassure. You pause, smiling shyly. “I really like spending time with you, after all.” 

Itadori’s smile shows no signs of disappearing, and together, you make the trip to Sugisawa Hospital, where his grandfather is currently admitted. 

You have to admit, you feel a little nervous. His grandfather is his only remaining family, and naturally, you want to make a good impression. Even more so because you know that he doesn’t have much time left. You may not be able to stay by Itadori’s side once the canon plot begins, but at least for now, you’d like to put his grandfather at ease. 

“Don’t worry,” Itadori reassures, smiling brightly. “He might seem like a crabby old man at first, but he’s not actually that bad. I know he’ll be happy to see me with a friend.” 

You smile back and quickly nod, and after a moment’s delay, Itadori slides the door open. 

“...you again, Yuji?” a gruff voice immediately barks out. “I thought I told you to quit wasting your time stopping by. Don’t you have anything better to do? What about your school club?” 

Itadori steps into the room first, rolling his eyes as if this kind of reaction is typical, but once you follow behind him and make your presence known, his grandfather’s expression does a full one-eighty. 

“Oh,” he blinks. “Who’s this now? Yuji, don’t tell me… you finally managed to get yourself a girlfriend? Good going, kid. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

Itadori blushes a bit, but his embarrassment dissolves once he lets out a sigh. “Cool it, old man. Don’t make me regret bringing her. This is [Name]. She’s my friend. You always seem so worried about me not spending enough time with other people, so I invited her to come, and she accepted. Make sure to be nice to her, okay?” 

“It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” you say, bowing your head. “I hope me being here isn’t an inconvenience.” 

“Itadori Wasuke,” his grandfather introduces. You watch as he sits up a bit straighter in his hospital bed. “Hm. Are you sure you’re not dating Yuji? You seem like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’ve got manners, unlike this brat. Hey, Yuji. Don’t be stupid. You don’t want to lose a pretty girl like her to someone else.” 

Itadori rolls his eyes again. “It might be easier said than done, but try to ignore him. Sometimes I think he just says things because he likes hearing the sound of his own voice.” 

“See that?” Wasuke points. “Do you see how this ungrateful grandson of mine treats me?” 

You bite back a chuckle. Naturally, you’ve already gotten a glimpse of what their relationship is like, well before meeting either of them in person. Wasuke may have a sharp tongue, but it’s clear that he loves his grandson, and he wants him to have a good life. He wants him to be surrounded by people who care for him, and even though Itadori will face plenty of hardship in the future, the fact remains that he will have plenty of friends who are willing to stand by his side. 

“Itadori’s a really good guy,” you say, lacing your hands together and smiling. “Everyone likes him. He’s got a lot of other friends besides me. And I know he’ll make countless more friends from here on out.” 

You pause to gauge their reactions. Itadori is blinking at you, perhaps a bit flustered by your sudden declaration, and Wasuke’s expression hasn’t really changed much, but you notice that his eyes are a bit wider than they were a second ago. 

It’s awfully subtle, but for just a brief moment, a smile rises to Wasuke’s lips. 

“Is that so?” he chuckles. “Thank you for saying that, young lady. I’ll admit that it brings me some relief. I’m glad Yuji isn’t just wasting the best years of his life tending to a sickly old man like me. If he’s got friends like you who speak so highly of him… then I guess he must be doing something right.” 

“No way,” Itadori marvels. “Did you just compliment me, gramps?” 

“Don’t get used to it.” 

“Still! You actually said something kind of nice for a change!” 

“Alright, I take back everything I just said.” 

The two of them go back and forth like this for a while longer, and you’re perfectly content to just stand there and watch. It’d be nice if Wasuke could stick around longer. It’d be nice if Itadori didn’t have to lose the only family he has left. But without a doubt, Wasuke will live on in his heart, and you get the feeling that even when he passes, he’ll be watching over him for a long, long time. 

Wasuke clears his throat. “Seriously, though. If you don’t act fast enough, by the time you know it, [Name] will be dating someone else. Don’t live a life filled with regrets, kid.” 

“...gramps, come on.” 

Uh-oh.

You’re not an idiot, so of course, you know what this means. The wooden box he’s referring to is where Sukuna’s finger was being kept. Up until Itadori found it, that is. 

Which can only mean that soon—like, very soon—the main plotline will begin to unfold. 

You nervously chew on your lip. Truth to be told, you want absolutely nothing to do with that stinky finger. You already know that everything will be fine until the Occult Club members remove the seal, but still. The whole thing just freaks you out, and it’s way too scary to even fathom getting involved in. 

While you struggle to come up with a reasonable excuse, your phone buzzes again. 

Balls. He’s just too goddamn cute. It makes it downright impossible to turn him down. 

With a heavy sigh, you text him that you’re on your way, and you eventually get there, unsurprised to see him standing in front of the same storage box that Fushiguro was frantically searching at the start of the series. 

Itadori grins widely. “Thanks for coming! Here, check this out. Have you ever seen something like this before? It looks kind of supernatural, doesn’t it? I bet Sasaki and Iguchi would go crazy over this.”

He proceeds to hold up a small, visibly old wooden box, and you gulp as he opens it up to reveal the cursed object inside—one of Sukuna’s fingers.

Of course, he doesn’t have the slightest clue what it actually is. It’s completely wrapped up in the seal, making the object inside indiscernible. He probably wouldn’t be grinning ear-to-ear if he knew it was some wrinkly old finger. 

…then again, he swallowed said finger without even hesitating, so maybe he wouldn’t actually care that much. 

“Oh, c-cool,” you say, doing your best to mask your discomfort. “Yeah, it definitely gives off that occult vibe. I’m sure the other club members would like it a lot.” 

“I really wonder what it’s even supposed to be, though.” Itadori frowns as he picks up the sealed finger—much to your horror—and leans in closer to get a better look at it. “Yep, I honestly have no idea. You got any theories, [Name]?”

Without warning, he tosses the cursed object towards you, and out of pure reflex, you lurch forward to catch it. 

The second it falls into your hands, you experience a sense of dread that is almost too nauseating to put into words. 

It’s only for a moment, but the scene before your eyes changes. All of a sudden, you feel something wet sloshing around your feet, and you look down to find crimson liquid, red water, or perhaps—blood. 

You try to choke out a few words, but no sound escapes your lips. You’re understandably disoriented, so your gaze then pans upwards, and to say that you’re terror-struck would still have been an understatement. 

Right there, sitting on top of a pile of skeletons, is Sukuna.

It seems as though you’ve lost the ability to speak, but even if you could speak, you doubt you would have been able to find the right words. You’re too overwhelmed with fear to even think clearly, and right before you collapse onto your knees, just shy of a meltdown, Sukuna knits his brows together and leans forward.

“...who are you?”

You snap out of it with a gasp, only to find that you’re still standing in front of Itadori, who has a worried look on his face. 

“[Name]?” he frowns. “What’s wrong? You don’t look so good. Sorry, did I freak you out by tossing that thing at you? I probably shouldn’t have done that. I get why you’d be startled.” 

He crouches down to pick up the cursed object, which you apparently dropped to the ground without even realizing it. You place a hand over your chest, exhaling shakily. Your heart is pounding relentlessly, and you feel dizzy, like you might pass out at any given moment.

Just now… that was Sukuna’s Innate Domain, right? But how is that even possible? He hasn’t even been incarnated through Itadori yet…

You swallow hard. That finger is completely sealed. Even though the seal is old enough to be torn off by even a regular human—like Sasaki, for instance—Sukuna shouldn’t have appeared before you. Or at the very least, you shouldn’t have been able to see him. 

Maybe it was just a strange vision. Maybe the shock induced some kind of hallucination, or something. None of this makes any sense in the first place. The fact that you’ve been transported into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen.

Itadori places the cursed object back inside the box, then tucks it into his pocket. “Sorry again for catching you off guard like that. Are you okay? You look a bit faint. That was my bad. You even mentioned before that you don’t really like scary stuff, so I should have thought twice before doing that.” 

“I’m okay,” you reassure, and it’s true. You feel perfectly fine now. That sensation of choking up and being overcome with fear is already a thing of the past. It seems more and more likely that it was probably all in your head. 

Yeah.

You must have just been imagining things. 

“Kokkuri, Kokkuri, please tell us… which creature is the school council president weaker than?!” 

Ah. So, it’s finally starting. 

The question is all too familiar, of course, and as you allow the coin to be guided around the board, the word formed is exactly what you expected. 

“What? A fish?” everyone laughs in response, and just like in the canon series, the door abruptly slides open, revealing none other than the student council president himself. 

He starts berating everyone in the room, of course, but you're not really paying attention. 

Instead, you gaze at Itadori with a wistful smile, realizing that after today, you will no longer be part of his life.

There's no place for you by his side. It's simply too dangerous, and even if you were strong enough, you can't risk upsetting the delicate balance of this world. Everything will unfold the way it's supposed to, which means that your role here, albeit small as it was, is over. 

…or is it?

previous | story masterlist | next

More chapters are available on Quotev and Ao3!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

🔮 main masterlist! ♡ oneshot masterlist

[thedinanshiral]

On the choices we make

This week we got the last article in IGN First series for The Veilguard, and many are not happy.

Here's the article, feel free to read it whenever, at your own risk tho

SPOILER WARNING & DISCLAIMER: I'll mention some spoilers for the character creator options for the Inquisitor. And i have not really read the IGN article, just looked through it vaguely but Twitter made sure i knew what it was about. I also got these spoilers earlier when the embargo on the preview event was lifted, so it wasn't really news to me.

In short, the shocking part of the article people are upset about is basically most choices from previous games don't carry into The Veilguard in any significative way. This news caused a lot of people to despair, become disappointed, sad, and even angry. So here's my two cents explaining why the devs decision to trim down the ever growing tree of possible outcomes from all past decisions was a smart and necessary move.

First let's talk about the Warden. It's been fifteen years since DAO, the Warden has served their purpose. Expecting them to still keep on the spotlight forever just isn't realistic. Particularly lore-wise, they're tainted, they're getting their calling eventually, they can even die in DAO. Even if in some worldstates the Hero of Ferelden is alive, searching for a cure, enjoying family bliss with Morrigan somewhere, this is not their game anymore, hasn't been for fifteen years. And it makes absolutely every sense that Rook doesn't get to casually ask Morrigan of all people about her personal life and her partner. Considering the different origins as well it also makes sense if the Warden is simply referred to as the Hero of Ferelden in codices instead of specifying if they're Cousland or Mahariel, that way all origins are contemplated without the need to select which one we chose, yes i'll say it again, fifteen years ago. Please, play DAO again if you must, but just, please, move on. It's time.

Then let's be real here, DA2 is pretty much self-contained. We see the direct consequences of the DA2 events early into DAI. There isn't much to talk about DA2 choices after that.

And now, about DAI...people were left in the Fade, people drank from a well, Divines were chosen. And The Veilguard is not about that. Sorry, but that also makes sense.

The Fade choice: it's pretty much decided that whoever stays in the Fade during Here lies the abyss didn't make it. They're gone. Sad, i know, but it's also been ten years in game as well and Hawke, Alistair, Stroud and Loghain are only human, they can't survive that. The thread many hang on for hope is Flemeth's words to Hawke "We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment... and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly" , is not a hint towards them surviving the Fade, it's precisely about them jumping into it. Which is what happens in that quest. There's nothing in those lines about making it out alive, or out at all. It's "whether you can fly", not "that you can fly". People always want these games to be DARK FANTASY full of DIFFICULT CHOICES and CONSEQUENCES that CARRY OVER, but when they choose a loved character to make a sacrifice and potentially die suddenly they expect them to have plot armor and return like nothing happened and nothing was lost? That loss was a consequence of that choice, and we all have to live with it and move on.

The Well choice: Solas' reaction to the Inquisitor drinking from the well is a strong one, but the consequence of that was already shown in DAI, in worldstates where OG Kieran exists we can see Flemeth control the Inquisitor to restrain Morrigan when she's trying to stop Flemeth. There's no confirmation on this but it's possible this power is gone once Solas petrifies Flemeth in the epilogue scene. From there we can only headcanon what happened with that power to control whoever drank from the Well of Sorrows; did the power vanish once Flemeth died? Did Solas inherit it when he absorbed her powers? Did Solas decided to only absorb her energy but avoided taking that particular ability with him? Remember, he's against slavery, servitude, and controling others. He's more into killing people in their dreams, petrifying his enemies and blowing up dear old friends' favourite stuff with his insane mind powers for extra emotional damage. If Morrigan is who drank from the well, it could also be she found a way to nullify that binding to Mythal; we don't know it yet but seeing as she appears in The Veilguard with a headpiece similar to Flemeth's it could even be she eventually accepted Mythal's deal. Anyway, the protagonist this time is Rook, and whoever drank from the Well of Sorrows is not something that affects them, or the main events of the game surrounding the Veil and a double Blight. The Well was drank, let's move on from that too.

The Divine choice: honestly? Not geopolitically relevant this time. The Veilguard takes place in Northern Thedas where the main power is Tevinter, which has its own Chantry and its own Divine. We're apparently not going south of the Waking Sea, so who rules Orlais or Ferelden and who sits on the Sunburst throne ruling over the southern Chantry is of no consequence to the regions we'll visit and the people we'll meet as Rook in this new game. Also, it's been ten years since all of that went down, whatever we made happen with the Inquisition could easily have been changed with a rebellion or two throughout the years.

The choices from previous games that affect The Veilguard are all from DAI, because that's the one game directly connected to The Veilguard; whatever happened in DAO and DA2 happened then and there and we've already seen the effects of those choices, sometimes in the same games they were made on. And the choices from DAI that carry on are limited to just three: Who the Inquisitor romanced, if the Inquisition remained or was disbanded, if the Inquisitor vowed to save or stop Solas. These are the choices that directly affect and are pertinent to The Veilguard events. DIRECTLY.

Now this has gotten some people bitter, like the game is serving Solavellans and dropping everyone else in the Amaranthine to die like their worldstates don't matter, but that's not it. Those two last choices are there even if your Inquisitor is not Lavellan, even if your Lavellan did not romance Solas. Remember, the Inquisitor and Solas can be friends too. They can even despise each other. I guess some could argue the romance option is there to cater to Solavellans too but i ask -rhethorically-, is it not relevant if the man set on destroying the world to return to a past long gone has a romantic history with the hero advisor of our new protagonist? Is it not relevant that this particular relationship was his only weakness, capable of changing his mind and stopping his hand??? Better yet, try to explain how it's not relevant. Considering who Solas is, what he intends to do, his role in determining the fate of all Thedas in the past as he is about to do now, Solavellan is very much relevant. A friend Inquisitor is also very relevant. An Inquisitor that wants his head on a platter i bet has much to say about Solas' role in this new stage too. As for the fate of the Inquisition i imagine it might affect how the Inquisitor can play their role as advisor to Rook, if they still hold the title and have some support from the Chantry maybe they can offer different resources or intel than if they're acting independently.

Every game so far has had many different options available, worldstates abound, paths can fork in so many ways and places it's insane to pretend it all carries on and on and on in every following game, when each game presents a new protagonist, a new institution, and its own theme and conflicts to deal with and resolve. In The Veilguard we'll be dealing with blighted ancient elvhen gods set on destroying the world. What is Hawke got to do about it? What could a senior, dying Warden do to save the world now? Even the Inquisitor can only contribute from the sidelines, maybe, we don't know yet.

Apocalyptic events will not wait for what was to come back to soothe our nostalgia. This time it's the Veilguard and Rook's time to save the world, and i'd say we let them. And let's give ourselves a new chance to make new, differenct choices, with different stakes and consequences we'll likely see soon enough probably backfiring on us. The devs worked on this game with the intention of giving us a full game, avoiding a repeat of previous questionable moves (like the main story truly ending in a dlc rather than the base game). In order to achieve that they had to focus, a lot, on how to carry the narrative forward and develop all these new characters, and let's be honest 100% now, that's pretty difficult to do if they're permanently looking back and dwelling on old characters and events. We can't move forward by looking over our shoulders to what was.

I strongly suggest everyone we give The Veilguard the opportunity it deserves, to be its own game as all the previous games were. For many players including myself their first Dragon Age was Inquisition so previous choices were not registered, we had no idea and still had a great time playing DAI and got so invested in it many went back to play DAO and DA2, and dive into the novels and comics, even Redemption, and that CGI Cassandra movie. So past choices not carrying over to newer games isn't the catastrophe some people are complaining over. Also please don't be arses to the devs over things like this, they worked hard all these years to give us their best, they deserve respect.

Lastly, i'd like to share a phrase in my language, "quién te quita lo bailado", which translates to something like "who can take away from what you've already enjoyed?" (the answer is nobody btw). If you already played previous games and enjoyed them, loved them, and played them 50 times over, that's yours, your experience, and nobody can take that away from you; the characters you built, your headcanons, that's all yours, for life.

Can't wait for October 31st so we can keep enjoying this world that for many of us feels like home.

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 32

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Monday)

Masterlist

“And if you run out of nappies, there is a box in the storage room. And he has to have Mr. Poo with him when he is sleeping, even during naps. And if he can't sleep he usually calms down if you sing to him “Freed from desire” because Declan sings him football songs and for whatever the reason that calms him down. And if he…”

“Liv… Liv, Olivia” Declan's mum says, stopping my rambling. “I know what to do. I've raised three boys and a few grandchildren, remember?” she chuckles.

“Yes, sorry. I'm sorry. I just… you know.”

“It's the first time you are gonna be away from Oliver since he was born.”

“Yes” I sigh.

It's been three months since I gave birth. Three of the most exhausting, daunting but also wonderful months of my life, full of sleepless nights and tears, but also many laughs, cute moments, and my phone saying I'm running out of memory due to all the videos and photos I've taken of Ollie. I've even had to make different folders so everything is a bit organized.

There are a couple just for photos and videos of him, one for all the content with my mum, with Declan's parents, with his nephews, with Madders and Kennedy, with their kids, with Olga… And of course, there is one only for Declan. After the ones all for Ollie, his has to be the one that has the most content.

But I just can't help myself. Seeing him being a dad is… I don't know how to explain it. It's like it makes me fall in love with him even more than I already am, sometimes making me feel like my heart is about to burst from all the love it has for him and Ollie. Other times tho, it makes me think of what I overheard him and his mum talk about. About the fact that he told her that he was in love with me.

More than once I've wanted to ask him about it, if what I heard was true or if it was my mind playing games with me because I was about to bring a human being to the world and everything inside me was a chaos. But I've never managed to do it, I've  always gotten cold feet. Though that may be about to change.

He has booked us a couple of days away at the same place where we stayed for our babymoon with the excuse that I deserve to relax, have a good night of sleep, and just think about myself for a bit (easier said than done). And since that was the place where we were supposed to talk about our feelings and what the kisses we shared meant, this may be the right moment to do it. To stop being a coward and tell him what I feel, to say the three words.

“Ok, our bags are in the car. Are you ready?” Declan asks, joining me and his mum.

“She's ready” she says.

“Can't I check on Ollie again? Just to be sure he is…”

“Liv, the little man is asleep, he's ok. And you already said goodbye to him like five times” Declan chuckles.

“Six. She went back to this room while you were away.”

“Really?”

“I'm sorry, I just… I can't help it” I shrug.

“He's gonna be fine, Liv. I have everything under control, and tomorrow your mum is coming over too. He's gonna get all the attention and cuddles in the world” she smiles.

“Can I give him a last one?”

“Declan, take her out of here, please” his mum laughs, pushing me towards him. “I don't want to hear from any of you in two days, understood?”

“I'll try my best to keep us, and especially her, entertained” he smirks, putting an arm around my waist and making my stomach do a flip inside me. 

“Yeah, well, umm… Can't I see him one last time, then?”

“No” Declan's mum says, definitely using the same tone she has had to use plenty of times with her sons. “And now go or you'll be stuck in traffic for hours” she says, moving her hands in the air and basically kicking us out of the house.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Have I ever told you that this is the best chocolate cake ever?”

“Every single time you've eaten it since that first time” Declan laughs.

“It feels like it happened in another lifetime” I sigh.

“It does, doesn't it?” he says, finally managing to open the champagne bottle he had on his hands. It is our last night away, and to celebrate, he ordered some of that chocolate cake I love so much and some champagne. “If we went back in time and told that Liv and that Declan that two years later they are parents to the most amazing little boy, they would not believe us.”

“Nope” I chuckle. “And thank you” I say when he gives me a flute with some champagne.

“You're welcome” he smiles. “So, what should we toast to?”

“I don't know… Maybe to that amazing little boy you just mentioned?”

“You have not stop thinking about him, have you?” Declan laughs.

“Have you?”

“I have not, no” he smiles. “And how could I when I have you reminding me of him all the time? Each day he looks more like you, Liv.”

“But with your eyes.” Because my wish had come true, and he had gotten his eyes. Those blue eyes I have not been able to stop thinking about since the first time they looked at me, eyes that make me feel things no one had been able to before. 

“To Ollie?” he says, raising his flute.

“To Ollie” I reply, doing the same.

“And, since we are toasting and celebrating… I have something for you.”

“For me?”

“Yep” he says, giving me a small box. 

“Declan, I… You didn't have to get me anything. You've done enough already with this trip and everything else since I moved in with you.”

“What I've done is the bare minimum, Liv. And this is just a little something. Open it.”

“Ok” I say, my hands shaking a bit. Why am I nervous? “Oh…”

“Do you like it? I've seen you wearing both rings and necklaces and I didn't know what you liked best, so I just picked one of each.”

“I love it, Declan” I say, trying really hard to not start crying. He had gotten me a ring with Oliver engraved on it and a matching necklace with an O and a little stone hanging next to it. “Is this a real ruby?”

“It is. That's Ollie's birthstone, isn't it?”

“Yes, but… wow. I… I don't know what to say.”

“Just knowing that you love it is enough” he smiles.

“Thank you, Declan” I say, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him. 

“You're welcome, Liv” he replies, hugging me back. We stay like that for a while, just hugging and not saying a word, until a bird makes us both jump.

“What the fuck was that? A dinosaur?”

“I don't know” I laugh. “But it was loud.”

“So loud…” he chuckles. “Anyway, do you want me to help you put on the necklace?”

“Please” I say, giving it to him while putting on the ring. It fits perfectly. “How did you think of this?” I ask him to try and focus on something that isn't the way his fingers feel on my skin.

“Aaron told me that he had bought Georgina a pushing ring, and I thought I could do the same.”

“A what?”

“It apparently is a thing people do to congratulate their partners after giving birth” he shrugs.

“I had never heard of it before.”

“Neither had I. And done. How does it feel?”

“Perfect” I say, turning around to face him. “Thank you, Declan. Again.”

“That's ok” he smiles. And once again, I find myself focusing on his mouth. On his lips. On how much I want to kiss him and… “Don't do it, Liv.”

“Uh?”

“Kiss me. Don't do it.”

“I wasn't going to kiss you” I say with a nervous laugh, my face already burning. Fuck.

“But you were thinking about it, weren't you?” he smirks.

“No.”

“Sure” he says, his smirk turning into a grin.

“Ok, fine. What if I was, uh? Is there any problem with that?”

“Yes and no.”

“What?” 

“No, because I also want to kiss you, and yes, because we can't do it until we have had that conversation we were supposed to have months ago.”

“Oh, that… yes” I say, focusing on my hands. “I've wanted to talk about that too for a while but never found the moment.”

“Well, this is it. And even though the chivalrous thing to do would be to let you speak first, I can't, Liv. I must be the one explaining everything first because I am the one who behaved like a dick and the one who broke your heart.”

“Declan, you didn't…”

“C'mon, Liv” he says with a sad laugh. “You know I did and that I hurt you. I hurt you really really bad.”

“I… You did, yes” I whisper.

“I hurt you and I think I will never be able to forgive myself for it. Because I… I didn't want to do it, you know? Like… urgh” he says, running his hands through his hair.

“It's ok” I say, reaching for one of them as he lets them rest on his lap, interlacing my fingers with his and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“I never meant to hurt you or treat you the way I did, Liv” Declan says, looking at me. “I swear that was never my intention. But I… I was a coward. I was a coward who got scared because he had never felt for any girl the things I was feeling for you. The things I still feel for you. Because I love you, Olivia” he says, those blue eyes of his looking at me in a way that hadn't before. It's like I could feel them reaching my heart and my soul if that makes any sense. “Each day I'm more convinced that I've loved you since the moment we met and you made me that first coffee, because I haven't been able to get you out of my head since then. And that scared me, Liv. That scared me so much… That's why sometimes I would ignore you and be cold around you. Because what I was feeling for you was so new and so intense that instead of just enjoying it, I would sabotage it. I talked about it many times with my brothers and some of my best friends, and they all gave me really good advice, the main one being: don't fuck it up, Declan. But instead of following it, I did the opposite and ruined it all. Instead of telling you how I felt, I ran away from you every time my feelings overwhelmed me. Because I was a coward, Liv. The biggest coward ever.”

“You weren't a coward, Declan” I say, wiping away a tear from his cheek.

“I was, Liv. I was a coward who fucked up big time, breaking the heart of the woman he loved, and making her despise me.”

“I never despised you. I hated you for a while, but I never despised you” I say, caressing his cheek. 

“But you should have. What I did to you that summer… The way I played with you for months… I deserved it.”

“You did, yes. Olga agrees on that” I chuckle. 

“I was going to explain everything to you that day, you know? I was going to tell you that I loved you and that I had been a dick who didn't deserve you. That I was going to work on myself to fix all my insecurities, that I wanted to become someone worth it of you even if you didn't want anything to do with me ever again. But then…”

“We got carried away.”

“A bit, yes” he smiles. “Then when we crossed paths again and I overheard you talking with Harry about being pregnant, and the thought that it could be mine didn't cross my mind, you know? I only thought that you had moved on just like I was trying to do and miserably falling at because you are the only woman I love, and that I deserved to feel the way I was feeling, that I had broken your heart and now it was my turn to feel that pain. But then you told me he was mine, and it was like the skies opened” he chuckles. “Because I saw it as the world giving me a second chance to fix things and do them right this time. To make up for all the wrong choices and mistakes I had made and stop being a coward. I couldn't keep being that person now that I was going to be a father. I needed to step up, to be the best version of myself for that little person that was about to come to the world and change everything forever. But while focusing on that, we've been getting closer again. And even though the thought of us getting back together is something that I've tried to keep locked away to just focus on your pregnancy and Ollie, on you two being safe… It's been almost impossible. The idea of us being a family, of us raising him together as a couple like I had dreamt many times before ruining it all, is something I constantly find myself thinking about, especially when we are together. Because I've found myself falling in love with you more than I already was, Liv. And hiding my feelings for you has been so hard… So fucking hard. You don't know how many times I've wanted to kiss you and love you but I've had to stop myself. So many times…”

“And here I was thinking I had done something wrong” I chuckle. “Because I've also wanted to kiss you many times, you know?”

“You have?”

“Yes” I nod.

“I wish I had told you earlier how I feel. That I love you and that I always have. But there have been so many things going on these past few months that I didn't want to confuse you even more and…”

“You have said it now, haven't you?” I smile, my fingers still caressing his face.

“I have, yes” he replies, letting out a big sigh and smiling back.

“Though I already knew.”

“What?”

“I overheard you telling your mum about it before Ollie decided it was time to come to the world.”

“You… shit.”

“And that's why I said earlier that I've been wanting to speak with you. I needed to know if what you had told her was real or if it was just my mind playing games, because Declan… I love you too.”

“You…”

“I think I've also been in love with you since the moment I met you at the cafeteria, because I haven't been able to keep you out of my head either. And yes, you hurt me and you broke my heart, but I… I never stopped loving you. I couldn't despite Olga constantly telling me that I should.”

“You should have listened to her, Liv.”

“Yeah, well” I shrug. “The thing is that then I got pregnant, and those feelings were still there, growing and getting stronger. And then there were moments where it felt like we were getting closer again and you were going to kiss me, but then you wouldn't, and like I said, I didn't know if I was doing something wrong, if it was my hormones making me imagine it all, if it was just me wishing we could go back to what we used to have, if I was making the same mistakes again and letting you play with my feelings… It was confusing as fuck” I laugh. 

“I wasn't playing with your feelings, Liv. I'm so sorry you felt like that. I know I did it in the past, and even though I wasn't doing it intentionally to hurt you, I… That wasn't the case this time. I promise you.”

“I know” I smile. “But then when you surprised me with the nursery… I knew it. I knew it wasn't my hormones messing up with me. It was just how I felt. I loved you and I was falling in love with you more and more each day, and since Ollie was born it has gotten to a point where I… I… I just fucking love you, Declan Rice. I'm stupidly and completely crazy in love with you and…”

“And so am I, Liv. I'm stupidly and completely crazy in love with you. I love you” he says before kissing me. 

And you know, even though we've kissed many times before, none of those kisses have felt like this one. There has not been a single kiss in my life that has made me feel the way this one is, to be honest. 

Because there has not been anyone I've loved the way I love Declan, and probably never will. 

[nevermorgue]

Hello Hayley! I've been binge reading your Nevermore headcanons and I LOVE every single one. If you're taking requests, may I ask for some Montresor and Morella friendship headcanons please? I feel like they would tease each other, but be able to bond over a shared love of food. Thank you for all of your work :D

YES!!! I was so inspired by pluto’s morella and monty platonic art in the server. i love the idea of them getting along. but to start, i’m gonna be evil

- Obviously things wouldn’t go so great. Morella doesn’t like him and actively stands up against his nonsense. Montresor probably only sees her spectre, really. He understands that her defense skills are necessary. Probably thinks she’s too kind hearted. Probably also thinks she’s stupid to some degree, but not entirely because of how she stood up to him.

- I can only imagine their relationship changing if Morella just kinda forced herself to tolerate him to keep the peace as much as possible. She doesn’t want unnecessary problems to arise (like the wall thing) nor does she want to feed into what he wants (her to snap/react)

- So her method is to attempt to treat him the way she treats everyone else. Montresor finds it amusing, using her kindness against her and purposely being worse to get her to break.

- That backfires. He’s trying to put her on a Will/Ada level, but Morella is too headstrong to be fooled. She’s kind to be kind, and his pleasantries don’t work on her. If anything, she’s more responsive when he drops the whole charisma thing- because he’s being REAL.

- With this dynamic established. Imagine. She’s a great cook. She ends up making a big meal for the misfits and is oh so kind enough to save a bowl for him. She knows damn well he doesn’t deserve it, but her continuing to be nice to him despite how horrible he is…it’s kinda like a game between them now. She’s trying to say she’s better than him with every kind act. And he’s not only entertained/mildly pissed, but he’s stubborn and wants her to snap and drop the act so he plays along.

- “Lemme guess, doll. Poison’s in here. Naw…maybe dirt.”

“Just spices and care, Montresor. Try it!”

And of course, it tastes fantastic. He says it tastes like shit and slams the door in her face. He eats the entire bowl.

- As time goes on, Montresor doesn’t realize it but he’s starting to see her as less of a game like his lackeys and more of a neutral company that he doesn’t really necessarily hate. And he can tell that their ‘game’ goes more and more stagnant as Morella becomes less faux-kind, allowing herself to pout or scold him. It’s become less of a “try to get the other to back off” and more of a natural sort of interaction.

- She genuinely asks him if he’s ever brushed his hair in his life. He proceeds to answer by running his fingers through his hair, only to cuss when he hits a particularly nasty knot.

- She just kinda tosses a spare hair brush at him. She’s not willing enough to touch him/comb his greasy ass hair for him, but at least gives him the means to do it himself.

- I do agree that they bond over food. They have big stomachs and Morella is just so good at cooking.

- Ada invites Morella to sit with her and Monty in the common area once. She was hesitant, but agrees after she’s encouraged by the misfits to go for some strange reason.

- But once the interaction starts, Morella can tell that Ada doesn’t really want her there. She keeps glaring and tugging Montresor’s sleeve, as she always does.

- It doesn’t dawn on her why she was invited until Ada spills it.

“Why did you want her here so bad, dear? I wanted my alone time with you…” Ada would whine. Ada doesn’t HATE Morella, but she’s still not very happy about their argument in the cellar.

Morella can’t believe what she’s hearing. It wasn’t Ada that wanted her here- but Montresor

- She grins. She has no idea what their relationship really is or if it can be anything other than a okayish neutral, but perhaps this moment right here is proof that Monty can feel something that isn’t cruel or unnecessary.

- And Montresor? Refuses to look her in the eye. She’s not terrible. But don’t get him wrong, it’s only because she’s in the middle. Not smart enough to be on Annabel or Prospero’s strategy levels, but not pushover-y enough to be of any use to him. That’s it.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

A Tyrell in the Lion's Den (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word count: 3.7k

Pairing: Tywin Lannister x Tyrell!reader

Summary: Y/n reflects on her evolving relationship with Tywin Lannister, which transitions from a secret affair to a profound alliance as they prepare to marry, while political tensions escalate with Tyrion’s trial and the brutal outcome of the trial by combat leaves her questioning Tywin’s ruthlessness

Warnings: Mature Themes, Possessiveness, Death, Graphic violence, manipulation, power dynamics, Emotional distress

_________________________________________________

The trial of Tyrion Lannister reached its climax in a flurry of accusations and manipulated testimonies. I watched from the shadows, carefully observing every player in the room. My relationship with Tywin had shifted from an affair hidden behind closed doors to something far more profound. The deeper I waded into the political intrigue of the court, the more I realized that we were bound by something more than just power or lust. We had become partners in the game, each relying on the other for strength and strategy.

But there was one more move left to play—one that would cement our alliance, not just in politics but in life. Tywin and I were going to marry.

A few days before Tyrion’s fate was to be decided, Tywin met with Lady Olenna in the gardens of the Red Keep. The tension between them was palpable, though I had little doubt that Olenna was enjoying every moment of their verbal sparring. She was the only person in King’s Landing who could match Tywin’s sharp wit and unflinching demeanor, and I knew he both respected and loathed her for it.

“So,” Olenna began, a sly smile playing on her lips as they strolled through the manicured paths. “You’re here to talk about Y/n, aren’t you?”

Tywin’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. He wasn’t accustomed to being read so easily, but with Olenna, he couldn’t help it. “Yes. I wish to discuss the possibility of taking her hand in marriage.”

Olenna raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Marriage, Lord Tywin? At your age?”

He didn’t flinch. “It’s a logical step.”

“Logical?” she echoed, her smile growing. “Come now, Tywin. We both know you’ve had no interest in marriage since Joanna. What’s changed?”

He stopped walking and faced her, his expression as hard as ever, though I knew better than to think he was unaffected. “Circumstances have changed. Y/n has proven herself to be more than just a fleeting amusement. She understands this game, and she plays it better than most. Together, we would be... formidable.”

Olenna chuckled softly. “Ah, so this is about power after all. I was starting to think you might actually be fond of her.”

Tywin’s face darkened slightly. “I respect her. That is more than I can say for most women at court.”

“Oh, please. Spare me the stone-faced act, Tywin,” Olenna said, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re not doing this just for power. You may be ruthless, but you’re still human. You care about her, and that’s why you’re willing to put your neck on the line by marrying again. And let’s be honest, it’s also why you’re standing here, asking me for my approval. You know as well as I do that Y/n is... special.”

Tywin remained silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he considered her words. Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter but no less commanding. “I didn’t plan on this, Olenna. I didn’t intend to marry again. But Y/n has become... important.”

Olenna’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Important? Tywin Lannister, admitting something so close to affection? The world may end any moment now.”

He scowled, but Olenna continued before he could respond. “Well, I suppose I could give my blessing. But remember, Tywin, once Y/n is your wife, we’ll be more closely connected than ever. Our families, our ambitions, intertwined.” Her smile was mischievous. “I wonder if you’ll come to regret that.”

The next step was meeting with my father. He had never been as shrewd or calculating as Olenna, but he held influence nonetheless. When Tywin approached him about my hand, the conversation was more direct, as my father, though less sharp, was no fool.

“It’s unexpected,” my father said, sipping his wine as they sat in his chambers. “I didn’t think you’d remarry.”

“I had no intention of doing so,” Tywin admitted, his voice as cool as ever. “But Y/n is not like the women I’ve encountered before.”

My father smiled slightly. “She takes after her grandmother in that regard. I always thought she would find herself in a powerful marriage, though I must say, I didn’t expect it to be with the Lord of Casterly Rock.”

Tywin’s gaze was steady. “I value her mind, her strength, and her ability to navigate court life. With her beside me, our houses will be stronger.”

My father considered this, nodding thoughtfully. “And does she know about this proposal?”

“She will soon,” Tywin replied. “But I wanted your approval first.”

A pause hung in the air, and for a moment, my father looked almost somber. “Do you care for her, Tywin? I know what kind of man you are. I’ve watched you for years. Y/n is strong, but she’s still my daughter. If you hurt her…”

Tywin’s expression remained unreadable, but his tone shifted slightly, more earnest than before. “I will not hurt her. In my own way, I care for her more than I’ve cared for anyone since Joanna.”

My father seemed satisfied with that, though there was a shadow of doubt in his eyes. “Then you have my blessing.”

The night Tywin told me about his conversations with Olenna and my father, I felt a wave of emotions I hadn’t anticipated. Marriage. I had known it was a possibility, even an inevitability, but hearing Tywin speak of it so plainly stirred something inside me.

We sat in his chambers, as we always did, but this time the air felt different—charged with the weight of what was to come. He looked at me with those piercing eyes, always calculating, always watching, but there was a softness there that I had begun to recognize.

“Do you want this?” I asked him quietly, my voice steady despite the swirl of thoughts in my mind.

Tywin didn’t hesitate. “I didn’t plan for it. I didn’t want to marry again. But now, things are different. You are different.”

I met his gaze, searching for any trace of uncertainty, but found none. “And what happens when we’re married? Do I become just another Lannister pawn?”

He reached out, his hand brushing against mine. “No. You will be my equal in this. Together, we will command more power than either of us could alone.”

“And your affection?” I teased lightly, though my heart raced. “Will you guard that as closely as you guard your power?”

Tywin’s lips quirked into a rare smile, one that made my heart skip a beat. “Affection is dangerous in our world, Y/n. But with you, I’ve found it’s a danger I’m willing to accept.”

I smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through me. “Then it’s settled.”

In the days following our decision, the court buzzed with rumors of our impending marriage. Some saw it as a brilliant political move, others whispered about the unusual nature of it all—how Tywin, after all these years, had finally taken a new bride.

______________________________________________________________

The throne room was filled with the heavy, suffocating tension of impending violence. I sat beside Tywin, watching as the trial by combat unfolded before us. The air was thick with anticipation, the entire court on edge as Oberyn Martell faced off against Ser Gregor Clegane. Tyrion stood off to the side, shackled and silent, his eyes flicking between the fighters. His fate was in the balance, and while my heart ached for him, I remained quiet, my hand resting in Tywin’s, our fingers interlaced in a way that made it seem like a casual gesture of solidarity. But I could feel the weight of it—a reminder of where my loyalties lay, even in the face of cruelty.

Tywin’s grip on my hand was firm, and I could feel his eyes on me, even though he did not turn his head. “Don’t look away,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “If you do, they will think you are weak. And weakness, in this court, is fatal.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. I wanted to look away—every instinct in me screamed to avert my gaze from the brutal spectacle before me. But Tywin’s words anchored me, and I kept my eyes fixed on the fight, even as the sounds of clashing steel and heavy breathing filled the air.

I could see the cruelty in his commands. This was the same man who could orchestrate his own son’s death without flinching. Tyrion’s trial, the trial by combat—it was all a cold calculation to Tywin, another move on his chessboard. I squeezed his hand tightly, not out of affection, but out of an anxious need for control. I couldn’t allow my emotions to show, not here, not now.

And yet, the fear lingered at the edges of my thoughts. If Tywin could do this to Tyrion, his own son, what would he be capable of with our future children? The thought sent a chill through me, and I felt a pang of doubt twist in my chest. He was ruthless, calculating—qualities I admired and had even learned to love in him. But would that same coldness extend to any child we might have together?

Would he see them only as heirs, as pawns to secure the future of House Lannister? Or worse, would he show them the same disdain he had for Tyrion, should they disappoint him?

My heart clenched at the thought. I wanted children—many of them. I had always imagined a large family, one filled with warmth, laughter, and love. But Tywin’s idea of family was far different. To him, family was duty and legacy. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, his face unreadable as ever, watching the fight with the same detachment he approached everything.

Could he ever be a father in the way I hoped? Or would he be a tyrant, even to his own blood?

A sickening crack echoed through the room, and my attention snapped back to the trial by combat. Oberyn had struck Ser Gregor down, and for a moment, it seemed as though Tyrion might win. My heart lifted, and I saw a flash of hope in Tyrion’s eyes as well. But it was short-lived. Gregor Clegane, impossibly strong, rose again, his massive hands closing around Oberyn’s head.

The sounds that followed—bones crunching, Oberyn’s final scream of agony—made my stomach churn. I fought to keep my expression neutral, though I could feel bile rising in my throat. My hand clenched tighter around Tywin’s, my knuckles white.

Oberyn fell, lifeless, and the Mountain stood victorious, blood dripping from his hands. The room erupted into murmurs, and I could feel the eyes of the court on Tywin, waiting for him to deliver the final blow to his son.

Tywin rose slowly, his grip still firm on my hand, as though grounding me to the moment. His voice was as cold as winter when he spoke.

“Tyrion Lannister, you are hereby sentenced to death.”

The words hung in the air, and I felt my heart drop. The cruelty of it, the coldness in Tywin’s voice—it terrified me in a way I hadn’t fully realized before. Tyrion was his son, and yet, there was no hesitation, no sign of remorse. If Tywin could be this heartless with his own blood, how would he be with any child we might have?

Would he ever be capable of love, of gentleness, or would he mold them into warriors of his own ambition, just as he had tried to mold Jaime and Cersei?

My throat tightened, but I forced myself to remain composed. The court was watching us—watching me—and I couldn’t afford to appear weak, as Tywin had warned. Still, the weight of my fears pressed down on me like a suffocating fog.

Tywin released my hand and turned to address the court, leaving me to sit silently, my thoughts racing. I wanted to believe that he cared for me more than as a political alliance. He had shown me tenderness in our private moments—moments where we spoke not of politics or strategy but of simpler things. Yet those moments seemed so distant now, swallowed by the brutality of this world.

As the court began to disperse, I remained in my seat, my hands trembling slightly. I couldn’t escape the gnawing fear in my heart. Tyrion would die, and I had done nothing to stop it. I was complicit in Tywin’s cruelty, just as I would be complicit in whatever future we built together.

But what kind of future would that be?

Later that night, I found myself alone with Tywin in his chambers. The atmosphere was heavy, and I could feel the strain of the day’s events weighing on both of us. I sat by the fire, my thoughts still tangled with doubt and fear.

Tywin stood across the room, watching me with that ever-calculating gaze. “You’re troubled,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.

I hesitated, then nodded. “Tyrion... it’s cruel, Tywin. He’s your son.”

Tywin’s expression hardened. “Tyrion has brought this upon himself. He has been a disgrace to our family since the day he was born.”

I bit my lip, the words catching in my throat. “And if we have children? Will you be just as ruthless with them?”

His eyes softened just a fraction, and he crossed the room to stand before me. “Our children will be strong. They will not fail me as Tyrion has.”

I looked up at him, my heart aching. “I want many children, Tywin. But I don’t want them to fear you.”

He knelt before me, taking my hands in his. “They will respect me. And they will have the strength to survive in this world.”

I searched his face for any sign of tenderness, any hint of the man I had grown to love behind the cold mask of Lord Tywin Lannister. “I want more than just strength for them. I want them to feel safe. Loved.”

Tywin’s gaze softened further, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You will be their mother. And you will give them the warmth I cannot. But I will protect them. And I will protect you.”

I held his gaze, my fears still lingering but less sharp now. Tywin might never be the father I dreamed of for our children, but he was a man of his word. He would protect us. And perhaps, in time, he would come to understand that love was as powerful a weapon as any sword or army.

We sat in silence for a moment, the fire casting shadows on the walls. Tywin’s hand tightened around mine, and for the first time that day, I allowed myself to exhale, the weight on my chest lifting just a little.

But the game was far from over. Tyrion’s execution loomed, and with it, a new chapter in the story of House Lannister—and in my life as Lady Lannister.

I would have to be ready for whatever came next. But tonight, I would find solace in the man who had both terrified and captivated me, and in the promise of the family we would build together.

No matter how dangerous that future might be.

______________________________________________________________

The air between us hung heavy with the tension of the day’s events. The words I had spoken lingered—about children, about the future. Tywin’s eyes, still calculating but darker now with something else, studied me intently. He was no longer the ruthless commander of men but a man driven by something primal, something stirred by our talk of heirs and legacy. I could see the shift in him, the subtle yet unmistakable hunger that crept into his gaze.

His hand, still gripping mine, slid upwards to cup my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You want children,” he repeated, his voice low, dangerous, filled with the promise of something I hadn’t fully grasped until now.

“Yes,” I whispered, feeling a shiver run down my spine, not from fear, but from anticipation.

Tywin’s lips pressed against mine with a possessive urgency, his hand already moving to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His kiss was not gentle—it was demanding, full of intent. There was no question in my mind now what he wanted, and the thought sent heat coursing through my body.

He broke the kiss and stood, pulling me up with him. His eyes locked onto mine with a fire I rarely saw in him, except in moments of victory or conquest. “If you want children, you shall have them,” he growled, his voice rough, his hands already working to remove my dress. “But not just any children. My children. Heirs to House Lannister. Strong. Unyielding.”

I gasped as he tore the fabric from my body, leaving me bare before him. His eyes raked over me, taking in every inch of exposed skin, the hunger in his gaze unmistakable. He undressed himself quickly, and soon we stood together, both stripped of the layers that had once separated us. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, the power of his presence overwhelming.

He pushed me back onto the bed, his hands spreading my legs as he loomed over me, his eyes never leaving mine. “You will give me sons,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Strong sons, to carry my name.”

The weight of his body settled on top of me, and I could feel the hardness of his arousal pressed against my thigh. My breath hitched, my heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and need. I wanted this—wanted him in every way. The thought of carrying his children, of being the mother to the next generation of Lannisters, thrilled me more than I had ever imagined.

He entered me in one swift motion, his grip on my hips tight as he began to move with a steady, determined rhythm. Each thrust was forceful, claiming, and I met him with equal fervor, my nails digging into his back as we moved together. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room, mingling with the ragged breaths and low moans that escaped my lips.

Tywin’s hand moved to my belly, pressing down slightly as he thrust deeper into me, his eyes locked onto mine. “You will bear my sons,” he growled, his voice thick with lust. “You will give me heirs.”

I moaned in response, my body arching beneath him as the intensity of our connection built. His words, the promise of what we were creating together, only fueled my desire. I wanted to please him, to give him everything he demanded. My fingers tangled in his hair as I pulled him down for another kiss, our mouths clashing in a desperate, hungry embrace.

But then, suddenly, the door to the chamber flew open with a crash, and both of us froze, turning to see the intruder.

Tyrion stood in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with a mix of shock and confusion. His chains were gone—he had escaped his cell, but he hadn’t planned on finding his father in the middle of bedding Y/n Tyrell.

I gasped, my body still pinned beneath Tywin, but neither of us moved. Tyrion’s eyes flickered between the two of us, the reality of the situation sinking in as he took a step back, his expression a twisted mixture of disgust and disbelief.

“Father,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t realize…"

Tywin, without so much as moving off me, locked eyes with his son, his face cold, unyielding. “Leave.”

Tyrion’s jaw clenched. “After everything, after all your scheming, this is what I walk into?”

Tywin narrowed his eyes. “You have no right to speak, Tyrion. Not here. Not now.”

I could see the rage building in Tyrion, the pain and betrayal that had driven him to the point of desperation. He wanted to fight, to lash out, but I could also see the weight of everything pressing down on him. He was on the brink of losing everything, and yet, he hesitated.

I placed a hand on Tywin’s chest, gently pushing him back, and sat up, covering myself with the sheet. “Tyrion,” I said softly, trying to defuse the situation. “Please… leave King’s Landing. Escape. It’s your only chance.”

His eyes shifted to me, his expression unreadable. “You want me to run?” he asked, bitterness lacing his voice. “After everything I’ve been through, you think I’ll just run?”

I met his gaze, my heart aching for him. Tyrion had never been given the love he deserved, not from his father, not from his family. But if he stayed, there would be no mercy. “You must. If you stay, you will die. Tywin will not show mercy.”

Tywin’s hand tightened around my arm, his grip firm, but I didn’t flinch. I looked at Tyrion, pleading silently with him to listen. “Please, Tyrion. Just leave. Find a way out of the city. Live.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider it, his eyes flicking between me and Tywin. Finally, he nodded, his expression hardening. “Perhaps you’re right,” he muttered, his voice filled with resignation. “But know this, father—this is not the end. You may have won today, but your victory will be short-lived.”

With that, Tyrion turned and walked out of the chamber, leaving Tywin and me in tense silence.

Tywin exhaled slowly, his hand still resting on my arm, but the urgency of our moment had passed. He pulled away from me, standing up and moving to the side of the bed.

“You showed him mercy,” he said quietly, not looking at me.

I sat up, the sheet still wrapped around me, my heart pounding from the tension of the encounter. “He is your son,” I said softly. “I could not let him die like this.”

Tywin turned, his gaze hard and unreadable. “And what if he comes back? What if he seeks revenge?”

I met his gaze, unflinching. “Then we will deal with it when the time comes. But for now, he is gone. That is all that matters.”

Tywin’s expression softened slightly, and he nodded, as if accepting my words. “You will bear my sons,” he said again, his voice lower now, more thoughtful. “And they will be strong.”

I nodded, my heart heavy but resolute. I would give him the heirs he wanted, and I would be the mother to his legacy. But I would also ensure that our children were more than just pawns in his game. They would know love, and they would know kindness.

And perhaps, in time, Tywin would come to understand that strength came in many forms—some that even he had yet to grasp.

[generatedreflection]

Finally playing FFXVI and the thought that I cannot get out of my head is "why are you all so obsessed with fighting each other and being mean when your world is SO FUCKING PRETTY"

[swampthingking]

andrew’s definitely gotten in trouble with his pr manager for tweeting things along the lines of:

“no mania inducing medication will compare to the euphoria i will feel the day donald trump drops dead”

[front-facing-pokemon]