#but surely ya'll know the brother is him

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Oooh, I’m intrigued to hear about the mysterious “LU LC AU” 😄

Could I also ask for a snippet with the word “brother” in it?

So! The LU LC AU is going off of @across-violet-skies 's idea for the AU that our Linked Universe boys get put into the game Lethal Company. They have a series of their own, but mine is basically this---Twilight gets dropped onto a spaceship with no memories, three other crewmates (Time, Sky, Four) and a quota that rises higher and higher on the monitor. He has to fight monsters, collect scrap, and survive The Horrors of The Company (aka Capitalism) amidst mystery, intrigue, and ever-present death. Will he be able to figure out the history of The Company and get back home? Or will he fall victim to the ever-rising quota and be terminated?

Anyways, there's the pitch for the AU. If you want to read the first chapter, you can find it here (or below)! Now, onto your snippet for the word brother.

"We won't impose too long. Plus, we can be of help with looting tomorrow. We can sleep on the floor, eat scraps, whatever. Please." A long pause rings out after this declaration. Time leans back from the radio with a disbelieving grunt, clearly waiting for some other plea. And it comes quicker than Twilight expects, low and desperate, the speaker's earlier cocky air all but gone. "Please. My brother—he's just a kid. It's not his fault that we're in this mess. He's just an intern, and he's injured. We won't—we won't cause any trouble. At least take him, if you don't have the room for both of us. Please." "Brother, huh," Time repeats to himself. He reaches for the radio again and flicks the receiver on. "Alright, Employee Legend, here's what we're going to do..."

So, I actually wrote the entire chapter so that I could get this snippet. I had it planned, but it was more like [Legend and Hyrule ask to be on ship. They brothers] in my notes, so now it's fleshed out. Thanks for the motivation I guess ;3 Anyways, thanks for the ask! Again, here's the link to the AU below if you wanna see what's up! I'm supposed to be updating on Fridays, but... we'll see how that schedule goes.

[aemondloverr]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡

𝐩𝐭. 𝐈𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 • 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Upon your arrival, Cregan sees to it that you are comfortable in Winterfell and a deal is struck.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: A sassy Jace and a Reader in denial of her feelings. Tiny bit of angst at the end

𝐰𝐜: 5.5k

𝐀/𝐍: I told yall I would drop again soonnn (had 4.3k words and decided to write 1.2k more smh.) And Ya'll. When you sign up for the taglist, PLEASE. PUT YOU USERNAME!! 😭 Some of you guys are just putting yes or no. I won't be able to tag you because I won't know how you are!!

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐩: The entire family watches as you and Silverwing take flight, the dragon's wings beating strongly as you soar into the black sky.

A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, the weight of your absence already palpable among those left behind. Rhaenyra's expression is solemn as she watches you disappear into the distance, a silent prayer on her lips for your safe return.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

As Silverwing flies through the night sky, you catch a glimpse of another dragon in the distance. You instantly recognize the familiar shape and color as none other than Vermax. He appears to be flying in the same direction as you and is rapidly catching up.

You signal Silverwing to land

Silverwing, sensing your command, begins to reduce her speed and descend towards the ground. She lands gracefully on the soft earth, her wings beating powerfully to ease the impact of touchdown. The moment you dismount, you see Jace jumping off Vermax and hurrying towards you.

“Jace what the fuck are you doing??”

Jace approaches you quickly, his expression serious as he stops in front of you. He takes a moment to catch his breath, running a hand through his messy hair

"What do you think I'm doing? You didn't seriously think I would let you go to Winterfell alone, did you?"

“Mother said-”

Jace cuts you off, his frustration clear in his voice "I know what mother said. But I'm not letting you go on this trip alone, especially not with...him there. I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not."

You roll your eyes at his stubbornness and he rolls his own right back.

"Don't give me that look. You know I'm right. You need me there, whether you want to admit it or not."

“Why do you have to be so difficult. Ugh.”

Jace gives you a cocky grin, his usual playful demeanor resurfacing.

"Because someone needs to be the voice of reason and it clearly won't be you given your emotional state at the moment."

You scoff and get back onto Silverwings’ saddle.

He lets out a huff of laughter, shaking his head becausehe knows he's annoyed you. He hops back onto Vermax, the dragon flapping his wings impatiently, eager to take flight again.

"Ready to keep going, hotheaded?" he yells and you reply with a warning

“Mother will skin you when we get back; I hope you know that!”

He laughs, unbothered by your threat

"I'm sure I'll survive. Besides, it'll be worth it when I get to say I told you so."

Silverwing begins to beat her wings, preparing to take off once again. Jace clearly enjoys the opportunity to rile you up, as brothers always do.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

3 and a half days later

“DRAGONS!!” The guards bellow out a startled shout, prompting several other guards and castle folk to rush out into the courtyard to see what the commotion is.

As Silverwing and Vermax touch down on the cold, snowy landing outside Winterfell, you and Jace dismount, your breaths visible in the crisp, cold air. The castle looms above you, its massive walls and towers covered in a thick layer of snow. The sound of voices and activity can be heard from inside the castle, signaling the busy life of the northern capital.

The cold wind beats against you both, it’s chill uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

Approaching the wall, the townsfolk and guards murmur among themselves as you and Jace come into view, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe. You can hear them whispering as they catch glimpses of the mighty dragons resting in the clearing behind you. The guards at the main gate watch you as you approach, their hands gripping their hilts of their swords tightly.

“This is the eldest Princess and Prince of the realm, children of Queen Rhaenyra. We are to meet with Lord Stark” you call out.

The guards exchange glances with one another, clearly uncertain how to respond. One of them steps forward, his gaze flicking nervously between you and the dragons behind you.

"You're here to meet with Lord Stark, you say?"

“Indeed. He had been made aware of our coming.”

The guard nods slowly, still appearing rather nervous in the presence of the dragons. He clears his throat and calls out to another guard standing further back

"Open the gates! The Princess and Prince are here!”

As the gates creek open, down comes Cregan Stark, marching towards you through the crowd of townspeople flanked on either side by a few of his trusted retainers. A cloak of wolf fur is draped over his shoulders, and his expression is stoic as ever. He stops about a few feet away from you, his grey eyes taking in the sight of the dragons behind you in the far clearing.

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart races. You thought you were ready to see him again but clearly, that was not the case.

Cregan's expression remains stoic as he gazes at you, his eyes searching your face intently. He takes in the sight of you standing there, a mixture of emotions flickering briefly in his steel grey eyes. For a moment, the two of you stand there, silently staring at one another, neither of you breaking the tense silence that has fallen over the courtyard.

You observe each other with looks of familiarity. You still remember quite clearly how he looked at 5 and 10 and it definitely wasn’t anything like now.

Before, he was the same height as you, short red-brown hair and soft features. He had the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. It was almost like you could feel the warmth of his happiness.

Now, there is no warmth. His expressions show very little emotion and he’s at least a foot taller than you. His hair has grown out to his shoulders and it still has that pretty red-brown color to it.

He continues to scrutinize you, his eyes roaming over your figure. He does not speak, but his gaze betrays his thoughts.

It's clear that he too is caught off guard by the encounter, memories of your childhood together flooding his mind.

You incline your head in recognition and respect.

“Lord stark.”

"Princess,"

He nods in return, his expression guarded but polite.

He briefly glances at Jace, then back at you, clearly noting the presence of your companion.

You tap Jaces hand to get him to be respectful.

Jace, who has been watching the exchange with annoyance, follows your unspoken order. He steps forward and gives a brief, stiff bow to Lord Stark.

"Lord Stark," he greets in a cool tone, his expression betraying his reluctance to show proper respect.

What a great start to an alliance. Good one Jace.

Cregan raises an eyebrow at Jace's impolite behavior, but he remains impassive as he regards him. He turns his attention back to you, his gaze flicking over your figure once more before he speaks.

"I trust you had a safe journey?"

“Aye. We did.”

He takes a step back, gesturing towards the entrance to Winterfell.

"You must be weary from the journey. I will have my men take you to your chambers for you to rest. We can converse when you have freshened up and settled in."

“Thank you.”

Cregan nods once more, then turns and gives a brief command to a few of the retainers standing nearby. The retainers step forward and begin to usher you and Jace towards the castle. Cregan falls in behind them, still observing you intently, his expression inscrutable as ever.

You speak to Jace in high Valyrian

Jace glances at you as you address him, his brow furrowing slightly. He responds in the same language, his voice low so only you can hear. "He's still as cold and stoic as ever. This should be fun."

“It was rude of you to do what you did, ignoring him like that.”

Jace rolls his eyes, a hint of irritation in his voice

"It wasn't rude. It was the truth. He acts like a block of ice, even towards royalty."

“Jacaerys.” You demand sternly

Jace holds his hands up defensively, his expression contrite. "Alright, alright, I'll stop. But you can't deny that you were practically fawning over Lord Stark."

“I was not. It was rude of you not to greet him like that after sneaking all this way with me. It would be a shame to send you home when you’ve only just arrived, wouldn’t it.” You threaten.

"Fine, I get it I get it I'll be polite. But only for you. Not for him."

“That’s not how this works-”

Jace cuts you off with a dismissive wave of his hand "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll behave myself. I promise. Can you just stop nagging me for ten minutes now, please?"

“Shall I send raven to mother right now?”

"No, no, no. That won't be necessary. I said I'd behave. I'll be the perfect image of etiquette, I swear it."

“Good then.”

Jace sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He gives you a weary look, accepting that he has no choice but to play nice.

"I'll be on my best behavior. No more rude quips or comments. I'll treat Lord Stark like he's the most charming, most handsome man in all of Westeros. Happy now?"

You just scoff in response.

Jace rolls his eyes, clearly not pleased by your response "Gods, you're impossible to please. I make the grand gesture to accompany you all this way and you're still annoyed with me. I can't win, can I?"

Cregan, who has been quietly listening to the exchange between you and Jace, raises an eyebrow at your bickering. A hint of curiosity flickers in his eyes as he hears the rapid exchange of words in High Valyrian. It's clear that he's wondering what you're discussing that has you so riled up.

Jace has nothing more to say, pouting as you’re lead to where you’ll both stay.

At last, you reach the Great Keep and up a spiral staircase to the guest wing. They escort you to two adjacent rooms, each furnished with comfortable beds, warm furs, and a fireplace to keep away the winter chill. Servants are already inside the rooms, laying out towels and filling a tub of hot water for you to bathe.

“This is much appreciated, especially after our long journey.” You thank Cregan but Jace just goes straight to his room, shutting the door behind him.

He waits a moment, as if considering what to say, before finally speaking in his deep, gruff voice.

"Is your brother always so...irritable?"

“I’m sure you remember.”

A slight smile tugs at the corners of Cregan's lips as he hears your comment. He nods slowly, his eyes still locked onto yours.

There’s that warm smile of his

"Aye, I do remember. Though he seems to be even more ornery than I recall."

“He’s quite the trouble. The older he gets, the more impolite and out of line.”

His eyes widen as he nods in agreement, his expression taking on a slightly amused cast.

"It seems so. But he is certainly loyal, I'll give him that much."

“Well it's clear he never liked you, that's for sure.”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at your statement, his gaze flickering with curiosity. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

"Oh? And why is that, pray tell?"

“Because you stole me away from him. I stopped playing with him everytime you visited King’s Landing.”

"Ah, so he's jealous, is he? I wondered if that was the cause of his animosity towards me."

“Speaking of Jace…I mean to talk with you quickly…”

You’d wanted to ask him if he could keep your brother in Winterfell but with the way Jace is behaving, he might just ruin it for himself.

The corners of Cregan's lips twitch into a smile at your words, his gaze still fixed on you. He nods, gesturing towards your chambers.

"Very well. Let us talk somewhere more private then, shall we?"

“No need.”

He raises an eyebrow at your response, his expression turning curious as he studies your face. He tilts his head slightly

"Oh? You wish to talk here? In the corridor? Are you not concerned about your brother and his listening in?"

“Well…I suppose you’re right.”

Cregan nods in agreement, a hint of a smirk on his face. He pushes himself off the wall and takes a step towards your chambers.

"Aye, I thought so. Come, then."

He gestures for you to lead the way into your room.

You push open the doors of your chambers. The room smells of your favorite flowers.

He remembered.

You smile silently but briefly to yourself at the flowers on the bedside as for him to not notice.

Cregan notices your brief smile anyways, but he does not comment on it. He walks over to the window, peering out into the snowy landscape outside. The moonlight in the darkening sky casts a silvery sheen upon the snow-covered ground, making everything look almost ethereal. He lets out a soft hum, his gaze still fixed on the outside before he speaks.

"It's a clear night tonight.”

You shiver, still cold although already inside. It was somehow colder in your chambers than the halls. Maybe it was because of the windows. You’d greatly underestimated the cold of Winterfell and now, you were suffering for it. “A-aye…”

Cregan notices the shiver that runs through you, his gaze lingering for a moment. He frowns slightly, concern evident in his eyes, even through his usual stoic demeanor.

"Are you cold? Here, come closer to the fire."

He gestures for you to come nearer to the fireplace and you step closer. He feeds the dying fire more wood in order to warm the room faster, moving to stand beside you, his figure casting a long shadow over yours as the firelight dances upon your features.

"Better?" he asks, voice soft and low.

You nod in response and he hums softly, eyes still fixed on you. He studies you for a moment, taking in your chattering teeth and trembling form.

"You're still shivering. Here, let me..."

Without warning, he reaches out and gently grabs hold of your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours.

“It would be a bother-“

He cuts you off with a shake of his head, hand tightening around yours. His voice is firm but gentle as he speaks.

"It's no bother at all. I won't have you freezing to death while you're under my roof."

He gently pulls you closer to him, guiding you to stand right in front of the fireplace. He keeps his hand wrapped around yours, his grip firm yet careful.

"Now, hold on.”

He takes a few moments to remove his cloak, which he drapes around your shoulders. The cloak is made of thick wool and lined with softer furs, making it warm and comfortable to wear. The garment is much too large for you, but it immediately envelops you, trapping the warmth of the fire between the layers of fabric. He stands silently next you, his hand still wrapped around yours, as if to ensure your body heat stays trapped within the cloak.

“I like this…This is nice.” The coat of course. Not his company. In any way. At all.

Cregan smiles slightly in response to your words, his grip on your hand tightening imperceptibly. He gazes down at you, studying your face as you huddle within the warmth of his cloak, a flicker of something warm passing through his grey eyes.

"Good. I'm glad.”

He rubs small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch gentle and soothing as he keeps you close to the fire.

You can’t help but feel a flutter in your heart at the kind gestures and he can’t help but get butterflies, seeing you in his large furs.

Cregan continues to watch you silently, his gaze lingering on your slightly flushed cheeks and the way his cloak envelopes your body. With each passing moment, a sense of protectiveness and possessiveness begins to rise within him, though he keeps it well-hidden behind his stoic expression. His thumb continues to rub gentle circles on your hand, the gesture becoming almost subconscious at this point.

You pull your hand away and clear your throat. This is inappropriate. You shouldn’t be allowing him to get so close like this. Yet here you are.

He frowns slightly, feeling the loss of your warmth as you withdraw. He glances down at you with a hint of confusion in his eyes, wondering if he may have overstepped some invisible boundary. His gaze flickers down to his cloak, wrapped tightly around your shoulders, an unconscious reminder of his desire to keep you close and warm.

“Are you feeling warmer now?”

“Yes…Thank you”

A hint of relief crosses over Cregan's face at your answer, and he nods silently. Despite the return of the usual distance between you, there's a noticeable hint of reluctance in his gaze, as if he wishes to pull you closer again. He takes a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets, his voice is quiet as he speaks.

"You're always welcome."

The silence between you hangs heavy in the air, charged with unspoken words and lingering tension. Cregan stands facing you, his gaze fixed on your face. The dance of the fire casts shadows across his features, emphasizing the hard set of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but hesitates, seeming to think better of whatever he was about to say. The silence hangs between you for a beat longer before he finally does.

"You said you wished to talk, didn't you?"

“I need a favor. Well not so much a favor but…”

Cregan raises an eyebrow at your words, curiosity etched on his face.

"Go on,” he prompts.

“My mother will soon be sending a raven.”

"A...raven? What for…?"

“She'll want you to send Jace back to dragonstone”

Cregan lets out a scoff, his gaze flicking around the room before settling on you again.

"She wants me to send him back to Dragonstone? Why?”

“He wasn’t supposed to be here. Mother forbade him from coming with me so he decided to be a half wit and sneak out to ‘protect’ me” You roll your eyes just thinking back to his rebellious flee.

He shakes his head at Jace’s stubbornness and crosses his arms.

"He really never does like to listen to anyone, does he?"

“She’ll surely skin him”

She really might.

"Aye, I can imagine she would be quite displeased to find out he defied her orders. He's really dug himself a deep hole this time."

“Well that’s why I need you to ignore the message…”

"Ignore the message? Are you serious? You want me to ignore your mother's command to send your brother home?"

“Just… don’t worry about it. And if you get in trouble. I’ll vouch for you”

Cregan looks deeply conflicted, his brow creasing as he processes your request. He crosses his arms, his eyes studying your face intently.

"The Queen herself? And you think your word can protect me if it gets out that I disobeyed her?"

“I am her eldest. Besides, It’s nothing you haven’t done already.” You cross your arms, hinting about when you were children.

He rolls his eyes at your remark, clearly understanding the reference.

"Aye, fair point. I suppose I have disobeyed a few royal orders back then. But this is different. We aren't children anymore."

You didn’t want to have to resort to this but you’re almost begging.

"I know this but can't you just do it for my sake? As much as I hate to admit it, I need my brother here." You take his hand once again.

Cregan flinches slightly at the sudden contact of your hand in his, his gaze immediately looking down to where your fingers are intertwined together.

There's a momentary flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, his stoic expression faltering for a brief moment. Your words, spoken with such earnestness and conviction, tug at his heartstrings, and he can't deny the plea in your eyes.

He sighs deeply, a mixture of reluctance and resignation crossing his features. However, as his gaze falls upon your desperate expression, his will crumbles, and he nods.

"Fine…I’ll do it for you."

“Thank you..good. I'll swipe the message before it even reaches your solar. And if she asks you, you won't be lying because you’d not have received it and you’d not have even laid your eyes upon it”.

"Aye, but I have one condition."

Oh gods. It can never be straightforward with him can it?

“And what'll that be?…”

"Your brother will have to be respectful and obey my commands. No more of his sharp tongue or disobedience. I’ll not have him questioning my authority in my own castle. I don’t want any more unnecessary headaches because of that boy."

Cregan takes a step closer to you, his figure towering slightly over you, his gaze fixed solely on your face. His voice is low and quiet, a hint of warning.

Despite your doubts for Jace’s good behavior, you agree

“Easy. Done.”

You mean easier said than done?

Herein lies the problem. How is Jace to do that? He’ll never give up his snarky remarks. Sure maybe temporarily, but not forever. He can’t go long without saying something out of pocket.

Cregan nods in approval, a flicker of satisfaction in his grey eyes.

"and.."

Of course there's more.

"...you give me something in return” He finishes, his voice firm but gentle at the same time. His gaze bores into yours, searching for a hint of protest in your eyes but not letting go of your hand just yet. He continues to study you with intense eyes.

“Which is…?”

"Your company. Everyday."

Fuck.

“What?”

This is the last thing you’d expect and the last thing you wanted to happen. Getting over him does not include spending MORE time with him.

Cregan's gaze is steady on you, his voice still holding a slight gruffness.

"I want your company. I want you by my side. I want you to accompany me to my meetings, to dine with me, to walk with me, to simply…be with me.”

You chuckle nervously in disbelief “Everyday? It is a jest, surely? You cannot expect to-”

Cregan cuts you off, his voice a quiet but firm interruption. His gaze remains steady and intent, his expression serious as he responds.

“Not a jest. I expect you to keep me company. Not all your time, I’m not unreasonable, but a fair share of it. That is my price. Take it or leave it.”

“…And if I refuse?”

An unreadable expression crosses over Cregan’s face at your question. His grip on your hand tightens almost instinctively, like he’s afraid you might pull away. A hint of vulnerability flashes in his eyes, hidden behind a stoic mask, as he responds.

“You won’t refuse…but if you do…then the deal is off and your brother has to leave.”

Using blackmail to spend more time with you is low, even for him.

You ponder for a minute, weighing the decisions and he watches closely as he waits patiently for your response.

“So… blackmail is how you get what you want”

He sighs, letting go of your hand as he takes a step back, creating some distance between you.

"Not blackmail. Incentive." he grumbles in irritation. He crosses his arms, his gaze hardening as he responds.

"I’m not a liar or an oath breaker. You want me to do you a favor? Then I’ll do it. But I’m allowed to have something in return, aren’t I?"

“Fine.”

“Perfect. Then it’s settled. Tomorrow, you will spend the day with me.”

“Now” you sigh and turn your back “I’d like to take a bath now so if it please you…” you give a shooing motion.

Cregan nods, a slight hint of amusement in his eyes as he gazes at your back. He watches for a moment longer before relenting.

“Very well, you may bathe. I have matters to attend to anyway.”

He really doesn’t. He just wanted your company.

He turns towards the door, his hand on the handle as he glances back at you over his shoulder.

“I assume I will see you at supper tonight?”

“No you will not.”

He pauses at your statement, his hand dropping from the door handle. He turns back towards you, his expression slightly surprised by your adamant response.

“No? And may I ask why not?”

“I wish to retire after my bath so you may send for my supper. I will not come down. It’s been long since I slept well.”

He considers your words for a moment, his eyes studying your face intently, his tone slightly reluctant.

"Very well, I suppose you need to rest. But I expect to see you at breakfast on the morrow. We have a few matters to discuss.”

“Aye.”

Cregan gives you a small nod of agreement, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he finally turns to exit your your chambers, muttering something under his breath.

“Bloody stubborn girl.”

The door closes softly behind him.

“I heard that!!”

"Intended it to be heard!" he calls back from the hall, his voice tinged with playful sarcasm.

The room is quiet for a few moments after, the only sound coming from the crackling fire in the fireplace. The stillness is interrupted only by a soft knock on the door, followed by the voices of the servants as they bring in soaps, oils, and towels for the bath.

Every interaction with Cregan just melts at your resolve. You can’t avoid him. He’s made sure of that.

Despite your best efforts, you find yourself struggling to maintain that familiar disdain for him. Somewhere along the line, your feelings towards him have grown more complicated and nuanced.

You continue about your routine, undressing and slowly sinking into the warm water of the bath. As you relax into the tub, you let your mind wander once again, and the memories of your past with Cregan flood your mind. The old feelings of friendship and affection for him bubble to the surface, but you quickly push them down as you remind yourself of what he did.

The maids carefully and meticulously wash your hair, gently massaging the soap into the strands and rinsing it clean. Their touch is soothing as they work, their hands gliding through your locks with practiced ease. The warm water of the bath gently laps against your skin, providing a relaxing contrast to the maids' gentle touch.

You let yourself sink deeper into the tub, the warm water enveloping your body and easing the tension in your muscles. The heat of the water soothes your tired limbs, and the comforting scent of the bath oils swirl around you as they float on the surface. The maids gently massage a soft cloth over your skin, helping you clean and relax even further.

They tend to your arms, legs, and rest of your body, scrubbing all of the dirt and grime away.

After you are thoroughly rinsed, they help you stand and step out of the tub, warm water dripping down your body. One of the maids wraps a drying cloth around your hair, while the other sets out a soft and lightweight silken robe for you to slip into.

“Thank you for your assistance girls.”

The maids nod graciously at your appreciation, their work complete.

"You're welcome, Princess. Is there anything else you need before we take our leave?"

“What be your names?”

"I'm Martha." One says, the tall, brunette maid.

"And I'm Sara." The second maid replies, a soft-spoken blonde with an equally soft face.

“Goodnight, Martha and Sara”

The maids curtsy together as they reply.

"Good night, Princess."

With that, they gather their materials and exit your chambers, leaving you alone in the quiet room once again.

Once you’re done drying yourself off, you put on your silken robe, exiting the bathing room.

As if on cue, there is a knock at the door, followed by Cregan’s voice on the other side.

"Are you decent?"

“Just a moment.”

You cross the room to the bed, your steps quiet on the soft carpet. As you go through the wardrobe, you select a soft and lightweight night shift made of fine silk. You slip it over your head, the fabric feeling cool against your skin and falls just above your knees.

“You may enter.”

Cregan pushes open the door and enters, his eyes scanning the room, almost instinctively searching for your presence. A hint of surprise flickers across his face as he spots you, dressed in a simple nightgown with the fire burning bright behind you.

“I see you come bearing gifts.”

Cregan quirks a smile at your words, holding up a tray of food as he responds.

"As promised. I wanted to make sure you had something to eat before you retire.”

He walks over and sets the tray down on the table near the window, the dishes and cutlery clinking faintly as he places them down.

You do quickly to dismiss him. He’s been around you long enough today.

“Right…Thank you. Goodnight then.”

Cregan pauses, confusion and disappointment crossing his features as you promptly dismiss him. He stands there for a moment, shifting on his feet, as he stares across the room at your form.

"That’s it? I bring you dinner and just like that I’m dismissed?"

Well that backfired.

“What do you want, a piece of my bread?”

“No. I don’t want your bloody bread. I was just….”

he trails off, his expression clouding slightly, as if he suddenly can’t find the words he’s looking for to articulate his thoughts.

He takes a moment, gazing at you, taking in your form by the light of the fire. A hint of vulnerability seeps into his expression, his words suddenly turning quiet and unexpected.

"I was just trying to... spend some more time with you."

“You said that starts tomorrow. Not today.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, his eyes fixed on your face, his expression mingling with a hint of irritation and stubbornness.

"Aye, the deal we made says tomorrow. But I don’t see why I can’t spend some time with you right now. Why are you so adamant to get rid of me?"

“I’m just tired. And I don’t need this right now”

An excuse.

"You don’t need what? My company? Or is it something about my presence you find so intolerable, Princess?”

You raise you voice at him. “Just stop okay. Stop. I said I was tired and you're acting like a petulant child. I just- I want to be alone.”

The stubborn look in his eyes falters, replaced by a flicker of hurt that he tries to hide behind a stoic mask. But it’s ther for a brief moment. Your words hit a nerve, and he falters for just a second, before his expression hardens once again.

"Petulant? Just trying to spend some time with you, and you’re ready to kick me out as if I’m some lowly servant."

“That was not my intention. But now is not the time to spend time with me-” you try and defuse the situation by apologizing but to no avail.

Cregan lets out a scoff and wounded pride with a reluctant understanding flashes in his eyes.

"Then when is the time? Tomorrow? When do you feel like dealing with me?"

“Yes. Tomorrow. Because that’s when you said.”

He grits his teeth, his jaw tensing as he struggles to hold back a biting reply. Clearly, he’s not too happy about your decision to push him away.

"Fine. Tomorrow it is then." he mutters under his breath, the reluctance in his tone clear. He storms out, shutting the door loudly.

You distanced yourself, like you wanted…but at what cost? You can’t help but feel bad at your blunt words. You feel like you hurt him.

Despite his tough demeanor, Cregan's heart is soft and sensitive, and he's far more emotional than he lets on. Your harsh words, even if unintentionally, have obviously affected him, leaving him confused. He wants to understand why you're pushing him away, why you're being so distant with him.

You don't want to fall back into old patterns, let alone complicate your current situation. It hurt you to hurt him the way you did but you have to be strong...and yet, deep down, something inside you yearns for the familiarity of his presence, the warmth of his smile, the feel of his touch…

*****

You lift the lid of the food he brought and your eyes land on a small piece of paper tucked among the food. It's a note, penned in a neat and familiar handwriting. The ink is dark, the words written with a strong and decisive hand.

As you read the words, you can almost hear Cregan's voice in your mind, the deep timbre of his tone echoing in your ears.

It reads:

"I hope the food is to your liking. Sleep well, princess..."

C.

A note so kind yet you were so cruel.

Tonight was not a night you slept soundly, but rather, a night you pondered your words.

❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆

𝐀/𝐍

Bro why does it feel like I’m writing a whole lotta nothing…😭 Cregan barely does anything in this one but pt.4 gets good. I’m still cooking. And next chapter is gonna be deliciousss.

PS. YES. Their childhood will be in the story, probably pt.3 or 4. Still deciding which one because I don’t want the chapter to be more than 6k. (You guys should read the comments for some previews on the next chapter and sign up for the taglistt 😘)

@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @obscure-beauty @cregansfourthwife @6ternalsun @msmarvelknight @melsunshine @littlebirdgot @kingdomzeldaquest @squidscottjeans

[jinxthequeergirl]

The Ol Switcharoo (pt2)

Stan pines x reader /ford pines x reader

Summary: Your family vacation lasted longer than expected. When you return home to Stanford, you realize quickly something wrong.

Warning: NONE

Hey! Just some housekeeping before you read on

☆Thanks for all the love ya'll it means bunches

☆this part is shorter do to me wanting to pace this better, but I hope yall enjoy none the less!

☆a few of ya'll asked to be tagged so I'm starting a tag list if you'd like to be included don't hesitate to ask

☆additionally I did have a Playlist for this specific series and if ya'll would like me to post the songs for it also lemme know

Enjoy!

~~~~~☆~~~~~

"STANLEY HELP!"

Stan felt himself freeze up, his heart race and mind go blank, why couldn't he think? Why couldn't he move?

He watched in horror as his brother floated up backwards through the air into the gaping hole in space and time.

"Do something!"

"What...what do i do!?" He asked meekly, looking around for something to help.he watched as parts of his brother slowly disappeared, and as he reached into his coat pocket and tossed something at him. "Hide my research...CALLL Y/N ANYTHING-"

Stan shielded his eyes as a bright white light filled the room and knocked him back onto the floor. The room was suddenly quiet.

"Ford!?...Ford! Come back!" He wasted no time to get back up and bang on the machine, hoping it would start back up like an old appliance. "Please!"

He raced to the lever a few feet away, desperately pulling and yanking at it, but it didn't budge.

"Stanford!?...Ford!? Are you home yet!?" The small coo of an unfamiliar voice snapped Stan from his nightmare.

"Hello!?" The voice echoed out again. He quickly got up, reaching for his only form of security. A baseball bat.

The voice had gone silent, but he could still hear someone moving he took a long pause, then opened the door swinging his bad.

"FORD WAIT! WAIT, IT'S ME! ITS Y/N!!"

Y/n?

He stopped swinging the bat and stared down at you.

"Call y/n! Anything-"

"Y/n?"

"Yes, it's me, Ford! I haven't been gone that long have i?"

He cleared. "No not at all we have some catching up to do."

You could tell there was something ford...well stan (you'd have to get used to the sudden name change) wanted to tell you while you sat across from him. Like he wanted to give you bad news. But he seemed to be thinking of the right way to put it.

"So..stan...what made you want to change from Ford to stan? Did your family have that much of an impact on you?" You tried to joke to lighten the tension that seemed to linger in the air.

"Well...something like that...listen y/n-"

"Are you OK? You seem...different you seem nervous...more nervous then when I left.." You placed your hand over top of his and offered a reasuring smile.

"I..."

stan didn't know you...he had no right to lie to you. But Ford seemed to trust you and judging from the photo on his desk in the basement, how fondly he seemed to write about you in the journal...the scrapped drawings of you in the garbage you meant a whole lot more to him then stan could understand right now, you must have felt the same way about his brother.

He remembered how worried his brother had been in making sure he understood you were absolutely under no circumstances to not touch the journals or anything pertaining to it again.

"My closest friend y/n and I have been working on this project for months now...I should have listened to her but I didn't...I need you to get rid of this journal she can't be near any of this when she returns."

"Did something happen with the portal?...with that...creature? And what happened to your hands!" You said now, pulling both hands into yours to examine them.

Besides, you already seemed so worried. He couldn't be the one to break the news to you. Not now.

Besides, he had a plan.

Sort of.

So he did what he did best.

Lied.

"Well...uh while you were away, I had a little accident. I had to get surgery...yea surgery, and the accident you know was from the portal...so I said, Forget the whole thing! "

He Tried to say it in a way that would convince even himself.

"Stanford, what do you mean? What happened? Are you just going to give up on everything we worked for?"

"I have to, I just need some time."

Neither of you noticed at first that you were holding hands as you spoke. Stan was the first to notice the closeness. It was the first time in what felt like years that anyone had shown him this kind of affection, let alone the kindness you were demonstrating with your concern.

"I don't know what happened while I was away or when you even had time for something to go wrong or why you would even start working again without me!" He noticed the slight annoyance building up and squeezed your hand.

And you took a breath. "But I understand and I won't pretend to know what happened and if you aren't ready to tell me I can respect that...things got a little rocky between us before I left and I'm really just hoping things can go back to the way they used to be with us. If a longer break and time is what you need... then I am 100% behind your decision."

He felt a wave of relief wash over him at your words. Maybe it wasn't your words but the kind-hearted look in your eyes, or maybe it was the way you still held his hands in yours.

You'd be the first two admit two things about your current situation.

One, Nostalgia was a funny thing. You knew when something was off about your bestfriend, the man infront of you was was a changed man, while his story didn't add up he looked shaken and defeated...after all this was the man you trusted with half your life. And you wouldn't lie, you had clung so desperately to the memories of college and spring through winter, it was that glimmer of hope and a mix of Nostalgia for your good times together that made you believe him.

And two, You always knew better then to trust your heart you and Ford would joke about the idea of following your heart and not your brain, how silly a concept it was that the organ that pumped blood through your body had such a pull on your decision making it made your thought process stop.

Yet here you where.

Following your heart.

"How about a few drinks and I can tell you about my trip?" You offered standing and being the first to break the lock between your hands. "And I can tell you about the plans I have for this place!"

"Plans?"

"Sure! I mean, we aren't doing our science junk anymore, so we need to make money somehow, right?"

You set down two glasses.

"Ok?"

You sat down, you listened to him explain how he had already done a few tours displaying whatever you had already had laying around and how people where eating it up.

"Stanford you've never been one for the gimmicky tricks, you've always cared more about the real deal...WE'VE been about the real deal...why lie to people?"

"Trust me y/n do a tour with me tomorrow try to show the people a real life monster and whatchamacallit and put it up against my made up creature."

You laughed. This wasn't what you had expected Stanford pines to spend his break away from work doing. It was out of character for him. But refreshing somehow.

Just like that, the seasons changed, and it was spring again

You learned quickly people didn't like the truth.

Real monsters and ghouls seemed to only upset or bother people so you and stan collaborated a way to make attractions that seemed real enough but also gimmicky enough that tourists would eventually laugh at it.

You learned pretty quickly that you were not only a pretty crafty person but an excellent storyteller.

You and Stanford seemed to almost pick up where you left off bonding and cracking jokes. It was like he was more confident than when you left him, more relaxed and full of life. You two fit right back into place with eachother with out missing a beat.

It's exactly what you'd been missing.

Soon, you were renovating half the house to be a showroom and giftshop, and soon after you were selling and wearing t shirts, you began putting up a sign. By the following summer, you were basically an operational business.

The mystery shack felt more like a brain child of you and Stanford and you cared for it like such.

It was something fun.

Something that didn't seem to be running Stanford down like the science stuff did. You could see a genuine smile on his face as he showed some local kid the corni-corn.

It was silly. You couldn't remember the last time you'd done something silly and adventurous.

It felt good.

"Another day another dollar y/n my dear." Stan said, flipping the open sign to close and placing his little red fez cap on top of your head.

"Soon enough, we'll have people from all over the place coming to get a piece of the mystery shack." He said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, leading you back to the section of the Mystery shack that was still your shared home.

"Yea, we have a real Walt Disney start-up story, don't we stanford." He laughed loudly before suddenly getting serious.

"Listen. I wanted to say thank you for sticking with me through this. It means a lot."

"Of course, stanford." You reached up and planted a small peck on his cheeks. "We've been through everything together. I'm not going to stop now."

You could see stans face flush slightly as you stretched and yawned. "Anyways goodnight stanford."

"Uh yea...goodnight..." You heard him mumble as he touched his cheek where you kissed him.

Things where looking up.

~~~~~☆~~~~~

Tag list!:

@fanficcrow

@slay-thou-pookie

[murdrdocs]

repressed and desperately horny luke who has never seen a porn video vs new to camp reader who used to be able to watch it whenever they wanted but now can't even flick the bean in peace

oh and maybe reader who gives Luke a dirty polaroid or two they've been hiding before they leave camp for the fall

— 🦣

🦣 anon strikes again omg. this concept actually makes me all giddy i want it to be something Bigger hence the informal format but just follow me here okay.

just thinking about ya'll finding each other in a moment of need. fate, really, if either of you believed in the concept. you, grumpy and insatiable from lack of proper sexual satisfaction, and luke, knowing he's feeling something but he doesn't know how to expel the need. sure he jacks off sometime, but not nearly as much as a guy of his age usually would.

so there you are, grumbling about, eyes narrowed, mimicking the behavior of ares kids (your possible siblings but it's anyone's guess at this point) and luke just has to go and be the mediator, asking what's got you so down. of course, you're wound up so tight, and a little grateful that someone your age has asked the question because you can finally tell the truth.

out comes your dirty secrets. your longing for peace and quiet to get off. your slightly remorseful nature because you had no idea that you were that reliant on pornography to help you out. and luke is just standing there, ears reddening as he suddenly finds the trees behind you incredibly interesting.

but luke is a Problem Solver, so he awkwardly has a suggestion for you. "the showers right before the bonfire are usually pretty deserted. and for your ..." he scratches a nonexistent itch behind his ear. "other problem, my brothers have some old magazines i could lend to you."

you snort, arms folding as you pretend to be disinterested. but really anything would satiate you at this point. "what are they? women on motorcycles? maybe an old playboy mag?"

luke shrugs. "dunno. never seen 'em."

and it takes you a second. a really long, tense, and warm (for luke) second where you eye him up. noticing his stance, taking in his clipped words, how he said them. and it occurs to you that little demigod luke, having been at camp half blood since 14, has never seen what the world has to offer in the pornography department. or if he has, he hasn't seen the porn of today.

and unfortunately, it's impossible for you to fix his issue in naivety. there are no phones in camp and even if there were, you don't think the service out here would be all too good. which leaves you to improvise.

you do end up getting the mags from the hermes boys, critiquing their selection with a scrutinized glare at the pages, flicking through them with the edge of your shirt to avoid any remnants. and then you report back to luke, telling him to give them a look, prefacing it by telling him that things now are much more entertaining. slyly hinting at your ears being open if he wanted to give his opinion.

which, he does. standing awfully close to you at the bonfire one night, body turned just a little so he can speak lowly.

"there's ... things better than that out there?"

you nod, affirming his statement while attempting to hide a small smile. the magazines were barely pornography in your eyes, women in manufactured poses to appeal to men. skin artificially smoothed, their cunts shockingly dry, their poses so meticulous. it lacked the emotion and desire that you enjoyed to watch.

and poor luke didn't even know the half of it.

at least you do introduce him to what he could be consuming just before you leave camp that summer, sliding him two polaroids you'd managed to take.

one of you in the showers, body littered with clumps of suds. your skin shining from the overhead light which gleams from the water along your body. it's taken from a low angle, the side of your backside being the main focal point with your tits at the top just barely making the cut.

and then the other is much more lewd, showing luke what the magazines should have. you, on your back in a camp bed, wearing nothing but your standard issued shirt which is bunched up around the waist. your free hand is between your spread thighs, two fingers clearly singled out to spread your lips and reveal just how wet and shiny your cunt is. and after one of his many sessions of getting off over it, the post nut clarity manifests as hyper analyzing for luke.

he notices the familiar pair of shoes off to the corner, the pillowcase he had one of his brothers sneak in last summer, the stain he's never been able to get out of his fitted sheet.

and suddenly the picture has new meaning for him.

[tizeline]

More about that Seperation AU! (I'm just gonna tag it as Tiz Sep AU for now for the sake of organization)

Anyway, so if ya'll saw my last post, in this AU Donnie doesn't really have a battle shell, but he DOES wear prosthetics that gives him two extra fingers on each hand. Some people immedietly picked up on the implications of that (which makes me very happy) but I also wanna give a proper explanation, so here it is:

While we don't get a specific explanation in the show as to why Donnie built the battle shell, it's not unreasonable to assume that he would've compared his soft shell with his brothers' hard ones and might've felt a need to compensate. So if he grew up without his brothers, like he did in this AU, would he even feel that pressure to "improve" his shell? Sure, he'd know that most types of turtle species would have a tougher carapace than his own species, but he wouldn't be reminded of that in his everyday life. In fact, while compared to his brothers he's the most fragile one, compared to April and Splinter (who don't have shells at all) he'd be the sturdiest out the the bunch. So in this AU Donnie doesn't use any additional armour (he does still have a jetpack tho because fuck yeah)

So where does the additional fingers come in? While Donnie in this AU doesn't have any other turtles to constantly compare himself to, he WOULD inevitably compare himself to Splinter and April as well as humanity as a whole. All of which have five fingers on each hand as opposed to his three per hand. This isn't the only part of himself that he's insecure about, being seemingly the only turtle boy in a city of humans is bound to make him feel a bit isolated and lonely. He'd feel more pressure to be more human than turtle, and making himself extra fingers, in his mind, would be a way to accomplish that.

It's not JUST insecurity though, there's a practical aspect to having five fingers when you do a lot of handiwork, which is something Donnie does. In fact, I first got the idea when reading the IDW TMNT comics. I don't remember the details but there's a part when Donnie (or rather Metal-Don to be specific, I think?) comments on the fact that it'd be more beneficial to have five rather than three fingers. Ever since then, the concept of Donnie constructing extra fingers for himself to make his work easier is something I've kept in the back of my mind, and I figured this AU was the perfect oppurtunity to explore that.

[reverieblondie]

Summer Vacation

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Fingering. You and Miguel have to be sneaky.

Summary: College has been stressful and your finally off for summer vacation... But then you receive a surprise visit...

A/N: Ya'll thought I wasn't writing for Miguel anymore... oh how wrong you all are... If this dose well I will make it a mini series! Just let me know! Enjoy!

Word count: 3,242

So much for your plans for a quiet vacation…

It had been perfect in your mind. Your parents were out of town, and their house was so close to the beach that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a nice and relaxing summer vacation all to yourself. School had been hectic, and you needed some serious relaxing time lounging out under a shady umbrella, cutting down on your TBR list with a frozen drink at your side and maybe a summer fling on the other.

But now... that’s not going to happen, not with the little surprise visit you received…

As you had settled in last night, you heard the sounds of a slamming car door. Your first thought was your parents made a surprisingly short trip, but that’s when you saw him entering through the front door. 

Your brother? What is his goofy -

But before you can finish the thought, you saw him following in. You haven’t seen him in years, but as soon as you see those familiar eyes, you know exactly who he is. Miguel O’Hara, your older brother’s best friend. The last time you remember seeing Miguel was the summer before he and your brother graduated. Lots of people assumed Miguel was a grumpy jerk from his quiet nature. Still, you always found him funny and kinda charming. You especially loved when he gave your brother a hard time: Miguel was definitely your favorite out of all your brother’s friends.

In contrast, the others ignored you, where Miguel was always friendly and looked after you in his own way. Sure, he wasn’t stopping you in the halls to talk to you your freshman year, but you would catch how he would be subtly watching you, and without fail, every time you were doing homework at your dining room table, Miguel would slide in next to you to whisper what questions you got wrong. Okay, sure, you planned it out to be there when he came over, but could you really blame a girl? Miguel was top of his class, plus it also helped that Miguel was quite cute.   

You ended up developing a bit of a crush on him, but he was off-limits, and that was only a silly little freshman year crush. You are way past that. So, as you sit here lounging on your couch, watching him walk in looking taller, buffer, and undoubtedly cuter, okay, he’s actually sexy as hell now…

As soon as Miguel walked in, his eyes met yours. At first, he was equally surprised to see you, but his shock quickly turned to a smile, like he was actually excited to see you. Though the smile was short-lived, as when your brother turned around to grab his bag from him, Miguel went back to his ever-stoic look. 

After your initial surprise wore off, you told your brother about disrupting your plans. He was quick to assure you that he wasn’t going to ruin them as he walked over and ruffled your hair, “Don’t sweat it, sis. Me and Miguel won’t bother you too much.” 

“Too much?”

He laughs as he saunters into the kitchen, “Well, I am your older brother, and I can’t just not mess with you!” 

The audible groan you give only earns a laugh from your sibling. Older brothers… 

While your ruined vacation plans are flashing before your eyes, a clearing throat catches your attention. Turning around, you see Miguel looking down at you with a bit of a smile back to his full lips, 

“Guessing you’re not too excited to see us…” 

Well, if it had just been Miguel….that's a different story… “Let’s just say I had plans for a stress-relief vacation and can’t exactly do now with an older brother lurking around…” 

Miguel chuckles and quickly looks you up and down for a moment. His eyes go to your brother as he leans down and whispers, “You could… if you know how to be sneaky about it…” 

For a moment, you don’t think this is happening, but… is Miguel flirting? You look at him, confused but very intrigued… you haven’t seen him in forever, and this is how he acts? Maybe you’re just reading too much into it; Miguel always gave you homework advice. Perhaps this is just him doing that, but your horny brain is misinterpreting… But just in case….

You look into his eyes, seeing that once warm brown now, has a tinge of red to them. “How do I know you won’t rat on me to my brother? Get me in trouble?” 

“Let’s just say I can keep a secret… troublemaker.” 

Troublemaker? You could be a troublemaker if he’s going to be the one that’s going to spank-

No, No, No! Off limits! Brother’s best friend, I don’t care if he’s built like a god and has a nose that you would pay good money to grind against. You can’t be the one to stick your neck out. Maybe Miguel is just a flirt now; all talk, but it doesn’t mean it. Off limits!

While your brain can still form some rational thought, you rush off to bed before Miguel can notice the blush rising to your face. As you make it to your door, you think you see Miguel leaning back to look down the hall at you with a smirk. Being a sane person you quickly scramble through your door and slam it shut, you go and flop down in your bed, cursing your brother for having brought with him Miguel. Out of all his friends, he had to get the one who makes your insides scream. 

Now here you sit, completely forgetting about the book in your hands as you stare at Miguel, looking so damn distracting! You know you shouldn’t be staring at him, but watching him running shirtless with his bulging biceps, massive chest shining in a sheen of sweat, and his flexing abs. Don’t even get started on his ass and legs in his swimsuit. You quickly slam your face in your book; stop sexualizing him… off-limits…off limits! 

Though you never were one to have good self-control. So, peering up from your book, you look at him. Sweat has never looked so good. 

Miguel just looked so effortless in his movements, and from the looks of the others staring, you’re not the only one to think this. Something in your chest tightens with that thought, the thought of him swarmed by admirers. For as long as you have known him, you have seen how people trip over themselves to fawn over him, but he always remained single from what you knew… you are sure he has had girlfriends before, but every time he was around you… he didn’t bring one up, he always was single, or at least appearing to be.

Then lost in your staring, his eyes meet yours.

You want to blame the sudden rush of heat to your face on the summer heat, but you know it’s from him… that same auburn gaze that always makes your stomach flutter and your insides ache. 

Miguel watches you as he pushes back his sweat-drenched hair before he lets a smile form on his full lips and gives you a slight wave. You work up the nerve to wave back, then quickly hide behind your book again. You’re stuck rereading the same line over and over, trying to hold onto the words, but that smile and those eyes…

Perhaps another peek won’t hurt…

Going for it, you take another look and see your brother, Miguel, and two pretty girls. The girls are all perky and smiles as they chat, something your brother is eating up, while Miguel has returned to being stoic—his ever-trustworthy defense mechanism. 

Looking away, you’re going through a swell of emotions. Well, more like one bitter emotion…

Jealousy…

You have as prided yourself on being a supportive girl; when you see a girl shooting her shot, you always wish silent good luck for them, but right now, seeing them talking to Miguel… It’s making you feel bitter. In no way is Miguel yours, hell he’s off limits for what you’re concerned, but watching this… hurts. This is ridiculous. Jealousy? Really? With a sigh you try to just forget it, though your skin is feeling hot, and you’re fighting the urge to stare.

To calm yourself, you place your book to the side and strip off your cover-up, the material that was once comfortable now irritating. You hadn’t planned on swimming or being out of your cover-up, so of course you make this the day you wear your smallest bikini. It’s funny how things always turn out like that. Stripping off the material, you instantly feel some relief. However, you have that distinct feeling of someone looking at you, watching you. 

With a glance, you see Miguel looking over everyone’s heads to make eye contact with you again…

Getting back to your book and swallowing down your jealousy, you keep your eyes on your book to keep yourself out of trouble. Finally, after a bit, when you're just getting lost in the text, there’s a nudge on your leg. 

“Uhhggg, please tell me you didn’t come here just to sit around.” Narrowing your eyes at the complaining source, you see your brother nagging you. 

You look down at your book, “You enjoy your time your way; I will enjoy mine my way.” 

Your brother rolls his eyes before grabbing his water bottle, “Goes to the beach and doesn’t swim or play soccer with her big bro. Are you depressed or something?” 

More like irritated… and frustrated… 

Before you can give your rebuttal, Miguel silences Your brother by bouncing the soccer ball on his head, “Stop messing with her.” 

Your brother, as dramatic as ever, holds his head and whines, “Ouch! When did you get so overprotective?” 

Miguel looks surprised and almost guilty for a moment before the mask comes back. “I’m not overprotective; just… let the kid relax like she wants.” 

KID?!

As soon as the words leave his lips, they are ringing in your ears. A kid? He’s older than you, sure, but calling you kid? What the hell? Is that how he sees you? You don’t know what’s the worst label: best friends little sister, or kid? 

Your brother pats your head, “Aw, got to be nice to the baby!” 

The words sting deeper. It’s not like you’re not used to your brother’s teasing; that’s actually how you two play with each other and show affection, but today…

You quickly stand, swatting his hand away. Your brother pauses and looks at you, confused. “Wow, what’s your damage?”

“I’m not in the mood…” You bite back, grab your bag, and walk off. 

“Where are you going?!” 

“None of your business!” 

You’re not even sure where you are going, but with your chest burning with embarrassment and annoyance, you just don’t want to be somewhere you’re labeled as a kid. 

You ended up at the concession stand to get some ice cream. Okay, not precisely screaming, mature lady. But your irritation at the situation is reaching a peak, and you need a nice cold comfort snack to cool you down.  

A kid… he sees you as a kid, you’re a woman in college, and he calls you a kid… and here you thought he was staring at you. Fooling yourself to think he’s interested. Looking down at yourself, you feel worse, wearing this bikini revealing your body secretly hoping to grab his attention. Ugh! Maybe you should go home, hide in your room till they leave… And why is this line moving so sl-

Suddenly, the feeling of a giant hand grabbing you close startles you. You’re pulled into what feels like a brick wall. Looking up at the sudden grabber, you see that familiar strong jaw and that dark wavy hair, but not his gaze. No, Miguel is looking off at a nearby table at a group of guys who are visibly avoiding eye contact and sweating bullets. 

You look between them for a few more minutes before you ask the million-dollar question, “What are you doing?” 

Miguel doesn’t take his eyes off the group, “Just... keeping an eye on you…”

This only seems to piss you off more; now he’s watching over you like you can’t handle yourself.

You push yourself out of Miguel’s hold, getting his attention to your huffy face, “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” You bite back. 

Miguel furrows his eyebrows at you, “I didn’t say you did!” he says, equally frustrated.

“Then stop treating me like I’m some kid!”

Miguel looks at you, confused, before he remembers what he said. “Look… I didn’t mean it like that.”

Before Miguel can finish, he’s being pushed past, you’re doing your best to show how thoroughly pissed off you are. You ignore him the best you can as he walks after you. Trying to ignore how his voice makes your skin tingle as he says your name. But right now, you can’t focus on that. You’re just wanting to slip away and hide! What you were not expecting as you slipped into one of the colorfully painted private changing sheds was for Miguel to follow behind you.

Miguel locks the door behind himself, and you groan. “I was trying to get away from you.”

“Will you at least listen to what I have to say? And stop acting like a brat?”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, so now I’m a brat!”

Miguel continues to get irritated with you, and you’re not listening, so he has to listen to your ranting. You go one about how you're not a kid, how they ruined your summer vacation, and what was the deal at the concession stand.

Miguels finally had enough. If you won’t listen to you he will just have to take the risk and show you.

So, during your rant, you feel two large hands gently grabbing your face. The gentleness of the touch sends currents of desire through your body. His eyes are steady on yours as he watches you lose your words, and your anger die down. Slowly, his thumb moves from your jaw to trace over your lips softly.

“Can you pause for a minute so I can kiss you?” 

You didn’t have to say yes; all you had to do is close your eyes and stand on your tiptoes to let him know you want it as badly as he does—to kiss him.

Miguel touches his lips to yours; their soft fullness blurs your thoughts. All that tingling turns into a back-arching static as Miguel guides you through the kiss. The intensity of the kiss grows with every second, with every careful caress, and as Miguel finally presses his warmth against you, you’re fully lost in him—lost in each other.

The feel of Miguel’s hands dropping to your hips makes your lips part with a gasp, allowing Miguel to slip in his tongue. The taste of him was completely intoxicating, making your thighs tighten and your pussy get wetter with every pass of his experienced tongue.

 Before he can completely lose himself in your kiss, he quickly turns you around so his chest is pressed against your back, and his hard cock is against your ass.

Miguel brings his lips to the shell of your ear, his warm breath softly panting over your skin, making you lean into him. Reaching behind you, you grab a hold of his dark hair between your fingers.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the second I saw you again.” he whispers in your ear.

Miguel slowly moves his large hand to the hem of your bottoms, his fingers teasing the material,

“Then... I’m forced to look at you in this tiny thing, which is driving me even more crazy.”

You can hardly think coherently as you let out a trembling whine, “Crazy…”

Miguel lets out a low purring hum as he slips his finger under the material, his fingertip softly teasing your slick folds. Tempting you to beg. How badly you want to beg... but the feeling of his rough fingers on your soft flesh as your hips slightly rolling against him. It’s all the begging Miguel needs (or that he can handle...) before he finds your slit and starts to tease your opening.

You can’t help but squirm, sick of the teasing and needing to feel him. With a shuddering pled, Miguel finally gives in to his lust, and your lust, and he sips in his finger. The stretch makes you rise to your toes, and your breath gives, the feeling of that curling pressure making you want more. Miguel presses his lips to your neck, his erection growing harder the deeper his digit goes. Miguel can’t help but grind his clothed cock against your ass as he whispers sweet words into your skin. Then right as your pussy is adjusting to his thick finger, he adds another, pushing in deep, all the way down to his rough knuckles. Your sticky arousal dripped down his thick fingers and pooled into his palm.

A sheen of sweat forms on your skin that Miguel eagerly licks up from your neck. Your core is starting to burn, and right as you think you can’t take anymore, his other hand comes down and starts rubbing your clit. Your legs tremble, and you begin to lose yourself in the feeling. Miguel’s breath matches your own as you start to approach that eye-crossing pleasure…

You feel yourself clenching on him, your whole body quivering. This feels like a dream: Miguel, the man you have been silently pining for, is touching you... kissing you... something he has equally wanted as much as you. The girl who was always so close... but off limits... Though now, you both couldn’t take it anymore how you needed each other…

Right as your bottoms are dropping to the floor and a moan is breaking from your throat, Miguel’s lips are on your rapid plus... then a ringing...

You both pause, gazing at each other, then at your bag thrown in the corner during the start of your rant. The ringing continues. You both knew who it was, but you didn’t want to leave this moment. At this moment, you two didn’t have to hide your wants, but if you didn’t answer, your brother would come looking.

Begrudgingly, you two part, with an irritated groan from the both of you. Bottoms back on your reaching for your bag, but your wrist is caught by Miguel before you can pick it up. Looking up at him confused, you see that classic stoic look,

“Wha-”

“I don’t want this to stop here.”

You’re completely dumbfounded. Here he is, the man you want saying the thing you want. “What if...” You don’t finish the sentence or want to think of any possible consequences.

Your Phone is still ringing, but you’re too entranced by him. Miguel leans his forehead against yours, “Be sneaky with me, trouble...”

Your summer plans might not be completely ruined after all…

“Think about it... and get back to me... Miguel gives you a chaste kiss, and before you know it, your bag is in your hands, and he exits the changing room. 

In your Miguel daze, you answer your Phone, reassuring your brother that you’re no longer mad and that you and Miguel are on your way back.

[lure-of-writing]

His little sister: Did you plan on telling?

Summary: Azriel learns of your sparring incident with Cassian and this is his point of view of the day in question.

Word count: 2.8k

Warning: probably some misspelled words

Note: Ya'll I love this back and forth between Az's and readers pov. What do you think? But things are starting to get more intense 😬😧

Ever since the night Azriel had returned with you from the summer court he was for the lack of better wording intentionally been avoiding you. It's not like he wanted to ignore you, gods no. If anything he wanted to be near you as much as possible. Rhysand never explicitly told him to stay away from you but with the intensity level of your antics increasing and the protectiveness level of your brother also increasing Azriel decided it would be the best idea so steer clear of you for at least a little while. Even though the two of you live in the same house with Nesta and Cassian he made it a point to be out of the house before you woke up and only return once he was sure you would be fast asleep. 

Avoiding you wasn’t as hard of a task as one would think it would be since you tended to just roam around the house looking for something to pique your interest until you inevitably got bored and repeated the process. Not only did your free roaming habits help Azriel avoid you but he was still the spymaster of the night court and had his own duties and responsibilities to tend to. He had been gone for a week when he returned in the hours of the early morning. The sun still hadn’t begun to peak its ways over the horizon when his feet touched down on the roof. As wired as Azriel still felt from his flight back home, his body was tired. He decided to get some rest for a few hours before flying down to the river house to relay the information he obtained to Rhysand. 

When he woke, the sun had finally started to bless the city of Velaris with its light and warmth. Reluctantly he began to get ready for what he was sure to be a very long day. He knew that today Cassian and himself were supposed to demonstrate fighting techniques for Nesta and the other girls but Cassian would have to figure something else out. Never did he think Cassian's new plan of action would be leaving an imprint of his fist on your face otherwise he would have shown up. 

Azriel waited for his shadows to report back to him that you had made your way up and onto the roof to begin stretching with Nesta before he also made his way up to the roof so he could fly down to meet Rhysand. The goal was just to not get caught, which shouldn’t be too hard considering that he was a shadowsinger and very good at leaving places without being noticed. Just as he arrived at the top stairs leading to the unofficial training area that was the roof of the house of wind Cassian was talking about the importance of different fighting techniques. 

Azirel knew that he should leave before you caught sight of him and then marched your away over to him demanding to know why he was ignoring you, ensuring that you made a big scene before all the Valkyries in training. He was sure that wouldn’t end well for him. The only answer that he could possibly give you is “Sorry, I’ve been busy.”  which if he was being completely truthful was one hundred percent bullshit considering the fact that he's never been too busy for anything involving you. There have been times where he has been sleep deprived and littered with cuts and bruises and covered and blood and gods knows what and he still made time for you. He was sure that you were his fatal flaw. 

His daydream was abruptly ended at the sound of your laughter. He didn’t need his superior hearing to know that you were teasing his brother. He could tell just from your body language. The tilted head, bouncy shoulders, wide smile and loose body posture that told him that you were poking fun at the general. Azriel swore he could read you better then he could read any book. He watched for just a moment longer as the two of you got into the fighting stance and began to circle each other while throwing out a few fake jabs to get ready for the real deal. As much as he wanted to stay and see you kick Cassian's ass and put him into place he also really needed to speak with Rhys so with one last look he shot off into the sky and towards his high lord and lady. 

Azriel had just sat down in one of the overly large and plush chairs that decorated Rhysands office while beginning to retell the events of his latest quote unquote “adventure” as you would call it when Rhysands eyes clouded over. Someone was speaking to him mind to mind. If he had to guess, it would probably be his wife. Gods knows he did not want to know what they were talking about. A beat of silence filled the room before Rhys spoke. “It’s Cass. He wants me to go to the house.” The high lord rolls his eyes before going completely still. “What is it?” There hasn’t been many times in Azriels long history of knowing Rhysand where he got that look of dread on his face to say it was concerning was an understatement. 

“It y/n” Those were all he needed to hear before both males were up on their feet in a split second and racing to the front door to launch themselves in the sky. If rhysand ever asked why he was so quick to react he would say it was because you were his friend and rhys little sister and most importantly family. And family shows up for family. Luckily Rhysand was too preoccupied with getting out of the house to notice the sheer look of concern mixed with panic on his friend's face. 

There has been many times when Azriel had been faced with things that should have made his heart race and it didn’t. There were also times when he had faced things and it did make his heart race, but nothing could make his heart racing like knowing something had happened to you but not knowing what. It truly made his stomach churn and he felt like he just might throw up. And as the spymaster he has seen and done things that would make any normal fae sick to their stomach, but not once did he ever feel that way. His love for you was so overwhelming that even not knowing if you were ok could almost bring him to his knees. 

The less than five minute flight to the house of wind had never felt as long as it did in that moment. He could hear the beating of both rhysand and his wings and they propelled them to Cassian's waiting figure. As soon as both males were close enough they could see Cassian pacing back and forth and Nesta cradling your head while you laid on the ground. If Azriels heart wasn’t racing before then it sure was now. Once both him and Rhys had landed it knew Rhysand was questioning Cassian as to why his baby sister was laying on the ground looking as dazed as ever. But he couldn’t find it in himself to tear his eyes away from your body. A few moments passed before Rhysand was moving towards you and both he and Cassian followed. Finally he was able to pull his eyes away from where you laid to look at his other brother with an eyebrow raised in a silent way of asking what happened. Cassian's pained shake of his head and lack of verbal or physical response was definitely starting to concern him. 

As soon as Nesta removed her hand Azriel knew why Cassian didn’t answer him. The reason you were laid out flat on the ground not responding was because of Cassian. The rational part of Azriel knew his brother never meant to do his to you. He would never hurt any female let alone the one he considered a little sister who he helped raise. But the irrational part of him, the part of him that was your mate, wanted to beat Cassian to a pulp for ever thinking it was a good idea to use you for his demonstration. His eyes never left your quickly darkening bruise that was starting to blossom across your face while his mind ran through all the ways he would like to repay the favor to his brother. It took a few deep breaths for him to decide that duking it out with Cassian would look suspicious to not only Rhys but to literally everyone there so instead he focused on controlling his mind numbing anger he felt not only towards his brother but the situation he put you in. Plus somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that Cassian would have to deal with Rhysand and that wouldn't be pretty either. 

After pushing his very primal anger to the side he began to as gently as he possibly could, pull you into his arm. Azriel, just like Rhysand, has been on the other side of a punch Cassian can throw and just how much damage it can inflict. Whether or not he was trying to. Azriel could see the start of just how much damage you had been dealt with the fresh red, purple and dots of red where the force of the impact had popped the blood vessels in your face. The condition of your face was enough to warrant a visit to the inner circles healer. Hell getting punched by either one of the three males was reason enough to pay a visit to Madja. Once he had explained to Nesta just where he was taking you he was gentle when launching into the sky. Not wanting to cause you more pain then you were already experiencing. 

The flight to Madja’s clinic was a short enough one but every few seconds he couldn't help but look down at your face and evaluate the mark left on your face. It made him want to cry. He would never forgive himself for not showing up to training this morning. Even though you may not know that he was your mate. He did. And the day he found out, the moment he found out that he was your mate he swore that he would never let anything bad happen to you. Even if that meant sacrificing his life for yours. For you he would do anything without question. If you asked him to burn down the world he would and at the end he would deliver you the ashes pressed into a diamond just to make you happy. So knowing that his choice to skip training his morning was the direct result of the concussion rattling around your head and the very badly picked colors of the autumn court decorating your cheek made him disgusted with himself. 

The bell above the door of the healers clinic jingled as the Illyrian made his way inside. Usually the old fae was tucked away in some room helping with another patient but this time she was sat at the counter working with an apprentice when he entered. “Y/n?” The calm voice was coated in concern. She made her way over to where he stood in the middle of the room giving you a quick once over before beckoning for him to follow her into a room. As soon as he set you on the bed Madja was looking you over for any other injuries. “What happened to her?” As the inner circles healer Madja was used to fixing up the three males even sometimes Morrigan and occasionally Feyre but never had you become a patient of hers. “She was sparring with Cassian.” The shadowsinger didn’t need to say anything else for the fae understood exactly what that meant. 

Madja was in the middle of giving Azriel different tonics and potions that would help with the injury you had sustained when Rhysand walked through the doors. “Where is she?” the high lord cut a sharp look to his brother. “She's in the room resting. The apprentice is watching over her.” Azriel watched as Rhysands eyes moved from him to the healer. “And is she ok?” Madja gave a slight nod “She will definitely have a gnarly bruise for some time and a concussion but she will live. You should be thankful that Cassian didn’t put more power behind that hit otherwise we might not be having this conversation.” Madja picked up one of the tonic bottles and gave it a little shake. “But as I was saying before you came storming in here.” After all these years Azriel knew Madja was used to the theatrics of the inner circle and that's why she paid the high lord no mind when he barged in. For her it was just another normal day. 

Azriel stayed while Madja explained what each medicine did, how much to give and how often to give it. Just in case Rhys wasn’t able to do it. Not like that would happen but just in case. He stayed in the front of the clinic while Rhysand went to collect his sister. Eventually the three of you emerged into the streets of Velaris. One was holding your body and one was holding a bag of vials. He was the latter. Azriel hated the thought of Rhysand walking through the streets of Velaris with you in your current state but he also knew that winnowing would not be a good idea. So both males began the walk to Feyre and Rhysand’s house. Not a single word was said the whole walk home. Azriel pushed open the wide doors for Rhysand to fix through when Feyre appeared before him “How is she?” for a minute he didn’t respond instead he watched as Rhys walked up the stairs and turned down the hallway leading to his personal room. After Rhysand was out of his sight did he hold up the bag he was holding. “Madja said she will be fine, just in a lot of pain.” His lady let out a big breath of relief. 

Rhysand still wasn’t down from his room when he was finished explaining each tonic to Feyre along with how and when to give them so reluctantly he made his exit. That was not before sending his shadows to check on you. “She's still asleep. Comfort in bed. Resting. Rhys is looking over her.” Madja had given you something for the pain and in turn it put you to sleep. There wasn’t anything he could do. Rhysand would never let him close enough to care for you. Once when you were still a child you had accident cut yourself playing with a dagger Rhysand had specifically told you not to touch and when you eventually did get hurt Rhys was the one to tend to you, not allowing either him nor Cassian to care for you. Even when he was supposed to be training. You could have a paper cut and Rhysand would not let anyone other than himself look over you. You are his baby sister after all. That job belongs to him. 

Azriel knew that Rhys would keep you at the river house until you were ok enough to be flown back to the house of wind. In those few days Azriel fought of the temptation to fight Cassian every time the two males made eye contact and spent the other time looking for a mission to get away from his brother. Azriel had a feeling the murderous feelings wouldn’t subside until he knew you were one hundred percent better. So being sent out on a mission with Cassian was the last thing he wanted. 

They were currently sitting by a fire when Cassian broke the silence “So when did you plan on telling us that you were y/n’s mate?” Azriel felt himself choking on the water he had been attempting to drink mere seconds ago. “What?” his coughing fit was still ongoing when he managed to squeak out the one word. “I may not be the smartest one in the group but it doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.” Azriel swore he knew gave any indication that he was your mate to anyone. Hell he barely acknowledged it himself. “I am not y/n’s mate.” Cassian's laugh rang out into the open woods before echoing into the distance. “Sure you're not that why every time you looked at me for the past week almost, you looked like you wanted to kill me. I could tell you were avoiding me. I mean you're less than happy to be here with me.” the general took a big bite of his badly cooked dinner, not even bothering to eat it before speaking again. “You can deny it all you want but I would know because that’s the same way I was with Rhys when I had just an inkling Nes was my mate.”

Taglist:

@kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend

@kylaisra @lilah-asteria @nickishadow139 @br0klynbby @blacktreacle22

@amysangel

[callme-holly]

i love how accurate ur hcs are!! do u think u could do dating hcs for sodapop??

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - I love Soda so freaking much someone please requests more stuff for him like ugh <33 Hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 495 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none!!

He loves you so much and he will tell you every chance he gets. There will never be a moment in your relationship where you feel unwanted or unappreciated because this boy will shower you with praise all the damn time.

He'll really open up to you. He trusts you enough to be vulnerable around you and if something is bothering him or he’s upset please just hold him until he’s better.

He is so clingy like it drives the gang insane. He always has to be near you or touching you in some way and if you aren’t nearby he’ll feel super uneasy.

He is not shy about pda at all, in fact, if you two are out together he is almost always holding your hand and covering you with little kisses. He doesn’t care what other people think at all and will show you off.

In private, he is even worse. If you’re doing something, he’ll drape himself over your shoulders and kiss your neck until you pay attention to him. If you’re sitting on the couch reading, he’ll rest his head in your lap and place your hand in his hair. He needs all the attention, please give it to him.

Honestly, Darry and Pony love you. You make their brother happy and that’s all that matters to them <33

Steve is always fighting you for Soda’s attention. He likes you well enough but that’s his best friend right there and he’s not having you steal him away.

Always visiting Soda at the DX just to watch him work. It’s definitely the highlight of his day when you walk through that door and if you don’t know, he’ll mope around and whine to Steve.

Showering together every chance you get!!

He will never let you walk home alone, doesn’t matter where it is you’re going or what time of the day it is, he wants to make sure you get back safe.

Dates consist of going to the diner and getting milkshakes or going to see a movie. He gets restless after the first 40 minutes or so but he can try and sit still for you.

Soda has and will use every single pet name he knows on you. It doesn’t matter how cringy they may be, he is using them.

Stealing his flannels!!

You two very rarely argue but when you do he’s so upset about it. He’ll go all quiet and once you’ve both made-up he’ll just hold you and whisper apologies in your ear.

When you’re upset, he’s there in a heartbeat, kissing away your tears and whispering little words of comfort into your hair. He hates seeing you sad and will do anything and everything to cheer you up.

He thinks you’re the prettiest person on the planet and will remind you of that at least once every hour.

He’s always buying you little things. It’s never for any particular occasion, he just likes seeing you smile.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch. 2

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting that kind of reaction! Thank you to everyone who's interacted with chapter 1; I've had a rough week and you all made my day! I wasn't planning on posting chapter 2 until I was a bit further along with ch 3, but I just can't find it in me to say no to ya'll!

Chapter Selection

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, hurt (no comfort) (yet), will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings (chapter specific): chapter includes a brief scene of attempted assault (which will be labeled for those who'd rather skip it) angst, gun violence, some negative self-talk

words: 1.8k

Jason's first call came at exactly 2:05pm the next day. When I picked up I was immediately greeted by his voice seemingly from the other side of a very large room; “seriously, guys! I'll call, I'll call!”

“Too late!” Dick shouted, clearly holding the phone. “Hello! This is Dick, calling on behalf of my idiot brother, Jason! We met at the cafe yesterday?”

I could hear Jason shouting at someone, but it was muffled like he was under something. “Right … So are you going to put Jason on, or…?”

“Well, Jaybird is under the impression that calling a girl the next day is ‘desperate’ and ‘off-putting’, so we've taken up a poll at the house, and surprise surprise; we need a tiebreaker. Your thoughts?”

Before I could respond I heard muffled grunting; someone in the background shouted “no! Get him!” which was immediately followed by a yelp from Dick as Jason growled a bit;

“Give me that!” A door slammed, and all the other voices were gone, replaced by Jason's gentle, almost shy voice; “... Um … hi … still think this is normal sibling behavior?”

I giggled; “... Starting to veer away from normal now. But it's sweet, they obviously really care about you. And for the record - you can call the poll on the side of ‘it’s not desperate or off-putting'; I gave you my phone number, surely I expected you to use it, right?”

“... O- oh, yeah I guess that makes sense … So yeah, I'm using it. … Hi.”

“Hi~”

After that, I spoke to Jason in some capacity or another most every day. Turned out he was a night owl too. Apparently he worked most nights, so, after I assured him that a text wouldn't wake me, he started preemptively sending me a good morning text around 3 or 4am, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up.

I loved how he could go off on an impassioned tangent; getting him all worked up over literature was especially cute. He did have a tendency to backpedal after a particularly passionate rant, no matter how many times I pointed out that I liked hearing him so excited. We also kept trying to arrange a day to get together, preferably without his brothers hovering this time, but his work schedule was so hectic that we kept having to postpone.

It seemed a bit unlikely, but I started to wonder if I had been right in the first place; that it was all some really elaborate prank. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an attractive man had played with my heart like that, though it would be the first time one had bought me anything before pulling the rug out from under me… 

Nearly a month into our texting relationship, Jason went radio silent for several days. No warning, just gone. I didn't want to be clingy, but I was a bit worried. He had been so attentive until this, what if something was wrong and I was out here thinking the worst about him?

On day 5 without a response I picked up a late shift at work, hoping to distract myself from the whole thing. It didn't work though, and I ended up trudging home at 2am blasting loud, angry music through my headphones. I was frustrated, and confused, and careless. I didn't notice the man behind me until his hand was around my wrist.

 ❌❌❌ -skip point- ❌❌❌

The world moved in slow motion as I was pulled into the alley. The man's mouth was moving, but I just heard a staticy ring. I tasted copper, and everything was too dark. Things didn't snap back into focus until I felt the rough brick slam against my back and I screamed, shoving against him.

All at once, everything was moving too fast; he was grabbing, I was punching and kicking, my voice was cracking. A second felt like an eternity, I couldn't even hazard a guess how long the fight actually took. But all at once it ended; with a loud, sharp sound that left me frozen in place and my ears ringing, the man collapsed in front of me. Red bloomed across his unmoving chest, and all I could do was stare.

❌❌❌ -end skip point- ❌❌❌

Large, leather clad hands gently touched my shoulders, bringing me back into my body. I slowly looked up, blinking. I immediately recognized the masked man who had come to my aid; Red Hood had made quite the name for himself in his time as a mob boss. I heard something droning on, but couldn't focus on any specific details over the sound of my own heartbeat still pounding in my ears. It took him gingerly sliding my headphones off for me to realize the noise I was hearing was just the next song on my angry playlist.

“Miss? Can you hear me now?” there was an electric quality to his voice. I vaguely wondered why more Masks didn't use voice modulators; it seemed more practical than the standard vigilante eye coverings… 

I slowly nodded. “... Y- … yeah?”

The red helmet nodded once, “did he hurt you?”

I looked down at myself, frowning a bit. My shirt was grimed up from the struggle, and I could feel the cold night air on the back of my thighs; my pants had ripped when I tried to kick the man off me. A shaky breath turned into a sob as I gasped, looking up again.

A million thoughts ran through my head at once. I wanted to scream, to curse, anything! But all I managed was a whimpered; “... Th- these were my favorite pants …”

“... Well, your boyfriend will just have to get you a new pair. Let … let me get you home, yeah?” I flinched as he reached toward me again, a gloved finger gently wiping away my tears. He offered me his hand, easing me out of the alley like a frightened stray cat.

I followed without complaint, turning my music off. “... No boyfriend …”

“A friend then? Someone who'll take care of you.” Red Hood led me to a motorcycle. He unzipped a bag on the back, and held out a red flannel shirt.

A watery giggle slipped out of my mouth and I shakily took it, tying it around my waist. “... I don't even know anymore…” 

“Don't know?”

“Well, I was talking to a guy, but … I think he ghosted me.”

“No!” I jumped at the sudden volume and insistent tone, looking up at him awkwardly.

“... No?”

“I … I just mean … a pretty girl like you's not gonna get ghosted. If he hasn't texted back in a few days there's gotta be a reason.”

I looked away, squirming awkwardly. Did an ex-crime lord turned vigilante really just call me pretty? “... Y- … I … what?”

He was silent for a long moment. I got the distinct impression that he was staring at me, but with the helmet on it was hard to tell. “... We should get you home.”

Next thing I knew, I was holding Red Hood's helmet. I hesitantly looked up as he turned, catching just a glimpse of one of those domino masks the other local vigilantes wore. He moved his bag and swung one leg over the seat of his bike, turning back to stare at me expectantly. The prospect of letting the Red Hood know where I lived didn't seem like the smartest idea, but I was definitely not going to walk home alone after all that. So I slid the helmet on and carefully climbed behind him, placing my feet where he indicated. As I arranged the flannel between my bare thighs and the seat it occurred to me how unexpectedly kind it was of him to offer it. I knew he had been spotted working with the Bats lately, but just because they had accepted him didn’t mean he was a boy scout all of a sudden...

Of course, now that I was on his bike I was faced with the rather pressing concern of where to put my hands. I didn’t exactly have handle bars, and I doubted he was going to drive slow enough that I could stay upright; I would have to lean against him. I took a deep, steadying breath, and placed my hands on his shoulders. Hood froze a bit, and after a moment he reached behind himself to grasp my elbows. He gently pulled me to wrap my arms around his waist.

 “It's actually safest this way. Interlock your fingers, and lean with me on turns.” His voice was so much nicer without the helmet distorting it, even if he was doing a truly terrible Batman impression. 

“... O- ok…” I clung to him, feeling my entire body heat up. I wasn't sure how much of that was because I was blushing and how much was because the Red Hood was apparently a living space heater, but either way I was glad he couldn't see my face. I told him how to get to my apartment, and we sped off.

The roar of the engine and the wind whipping past mercifully drowned out anything we could have hoped to say to each other. I shut my eyes just for a moment, trying not to cry again, and suddenly Hood’s hand was trapping mine against his stomach. “... Hey, this it?”

I jolted slightly, looking up at the familiar building. I nodded, slowly extracted myself from his grip, and slid back onto solid ground. He held a hand up to stop me as I started to remove the borrowed flannel.

“Keep it.”

I blinked slowly, having trouble processing what he said. “... But … it’s your shirt … how will I give it back to you?”

He chuckled softly; “it’s just a shirt.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue the matter any further. I slipped his helmet off, holding it out to him.

“Thank you … I can't believe I let this happen…”

He frowned deeply at that, and his voice shifted a bit from a fake-Batman voice into an actually deep, grumpy tone; “you didn't let anything happen.”

“I'm usually so much more observant, if I had just been paying attention…”

“He would have changed tactics. You did nothing wrong. I don't want you thinking otherwise, got it?”

I sniffled softly, looking down at my shoes. “... I … God, I didn't even have my keys in my hand… I was taught better…”

“And I was taught not to kill. Shit happens.”

I blinked a bit, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “… I … I guess so. … Th- Thank you … for everything.”

He nodded once before putting his helmet back on. Before I could step away, he reached out to touch my hand again. “Hey. You did everything right, ok? You drew attention, and you kept him off until I got there. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Got it?”

I nodded slowly, stepping back a bit. “… ok.”

“Good. Now, get inside.” He waited there, watching me. Only after the building's front door was closed and locked did I hear his motorcycle speed away.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika

Taglist: @jawdropforkpop

(If you would like to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know!)

[trippinsorrows]

give me a reason + one

authors note: welp. here i am, once again. granted, i'm a bit excited about this one, as it's a unique storyline, at least not as cliched as maybe 'ltye' or 'with me'. trope is essentially age gap x best friends brother x second chance romance x something else that'll be revealed by the end of this chapter and my own creative flairs.

the age gap between mariella and joe is four years, and nothing romantic happened between them until she was in her twenties. just putting that out there now. ari don't do that grooming shit.

their story will be told in a mixture of flashbacks and present day. how they ended up where they are now will eventually be revealed, but until then, it's expected that ya'll are confused.

words: 9k

song inspo: just give me a reason by p!nk and nate ruess

warnings: angst and fluff

if i tag anyone and you don't want to be tagged, please let me know!

taglist: @annfg8 @whatdoeseverybodywant @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @prettybitxhnica @shayaaaaaaa

Summer, 2003

“Ladies, next week officially starts the beginning of the rest of our lives. No longer will we be lowly 8th graders. No, we will be official high schoolers! Next week is a new beginning, a new era, a new decade of wonderful, fabulous, life changing—”

“Baby girl, do you want a hot dog or a burger?”

Mariella releases the loudest, most exaggerated sigh known to mankind that is possible for a 14-year-old. She turns from where she was pacing across the stones that line around her family’s pool. Sure enough, her 6’3 father stands before her with his spatula in hand, wearing his apron gifted to him for Father’s Day a couple years back. He’s using his free hand to shield his face from the blaring sun. 

“Daddy! I was in the middle of a monologue!”

Byron Holmes looks as disinterested as the tone of his voice. “Ella, you always talking. How am I supposed to know the difference?”

This time, it’s a dramatic gasp that's evoked instead of the previous one born from irritation. “I resent you saying that, father!”

“I’m sure you do, now do you want a hot dog or burger?”

Mariella might quite possibly be the most dramatic person to walk the earth, but the promise of one of her dad’s famous grilled burgers is too good to turn down. She can turn her strong feelings at being interrupted into a song at a later date and time.

Defeated, unable to overpower the desire for good food, she murmurs, “burger, please.”

“Thank you.” Byron Sr. shakes his head. Getting an answer from the prisoners is easier than getting one from his youngest sometimes. He then sets his gaze on her audience. “What about you girls?”

Promise Rose is the first to answer, that usual nervous smile on her face as she adjusts her thick rimmed glasses. “A hot dog, please, Mr. Holmes.”

Byron nods, committing her request to memory. He then turns to the other, already knowing what he’s in for. “Iris?”

Her hazel eyes that are obscured by the heavy set of eyeliner land on him with icy indifference. “I refuse to participate in the travesty and continued slaughter of the innocent just for the selfish pleasure and satisfaction of the greedy carnivorous species that occupies this stolen land.”

Byron releases a heavy sigh. It’s always something with this one. “Is that a yes or no, Iris?”

Iris lifts her chin, answering just as coldly, “I’ll just take the bread.”

Relieved and eager to be away from the only fourteen-year-old who could unnerve him, even with his twenty plus years as a prison warden, he walks away, mumbling to himself, “I swear something is wrong with that child….”

Returned to the previous topic at hand, Mariella plops down on the pool chaise across from her two best friends since third grade. “Now where were we before I was so rudely interrupted?”

“The inevitable extinction of mankind.”

“Surviving high school.”

Mariella rolls her eyes. It can so difficult sometimes to get her two polar opposite besties on the same page.

“We just have to make sure we do everything perfect.”

Promise Rose chews nervously on the corner of her lip and criss crosses her legs over each other. She looks between the two of them, anxiety growing by the second. “Ella is right. With BJ and Joe graduating this year, we’ve gotta make sure we elevate our social status or else we’re dead meat.”

Confused, Mariella asks, “what do you mean?” She then adds, “our social status is fine.”

Promise Rose looks over at an uninterested Iris. “Help here?”

“I refuse to subscribe to the patriarchy of social hierarchies.”

“Oh geez.” She should have known better. Iris refuses to get hip with anything if it’s not sticking a finger to the man. “Ella, it’s only because of your brother and Joe that we haven’t been bullied out of school. We are literally only semi-popular because of association. Without the guys, we’re nerds.”

Mariella would have preferred an actual dirty, jagged edge dagger be shoved into her chest. “We are not nerds!”

“Ella, you’re weird. I’m scared of everything. And Iris contemplates murder every hour on the hour.”

Iris shrugs, pushing her Kaleidoscope colored hair over her tanned shoulder. “Only on exceptionally bad days.”

“I rest my case.”

Mariella isn’t beyond consideration of alternative perspectives. She takes Promise Rose words to heart, trying her best to see it objectively.

She’s also not above admitting that having her brother and Joe look out for her over the years has only been beneficial. Even with them being out of middle school for almost four years now, their popularity has existed since damn near elementary school. Them and her twins sisters, Everly and Olivia, really. But especially Byron and Joe, mostly because of their standing as football players, two of the best on every team they’ve been on. Because of that, there’s not a soul in town who doesn’t know her as BJ’s little sister and Joe’s adopted little sister.

She’s always seen that as protecting her from guys messing with her but never associated it with social status.

And just as she’s undergoing a life changing realization, the creak of the side gate snatches her attention, revealing the two people who can clear all this up for her.

“BJ!”

Mariella untangles her legs from off the pool chair and jogs over to her brother and Joe.

“Damn, not even home for five minutes, and you already sweating me.”

Glaring, she shoves on his chest, muttering, “you’re such a dick sometimes.”

“Aye, watch your math. You too young to be cussing.”

She ignores him. With his 18th birthday right around the corner, Byron Jr., BJ as everyone calls him, has been on some weird power, superiority trip. 

Mariella redirects her focus to Joe, accepting his side hug. “Whassup, Ri.”

Mariella has a variety of nicknames. Her parents bounce back and forth between Mariella and Ella, mostly everyone else calls her Ella, but with Joe, she’s just Ri.

It’s kind of an unspoken rule that only he can call her that.

Joseph Anoa’i. 

Mariella can’t think of a time Joe wasn’t in her life. Not only does he and his equally large family live just a few doors down, he’s played football with BJ since they were six-years-old, before she was old enough to know what football even was. An almost quiet, level headed balance to her sometimes hot headed biological brother, Joe is Mariella’s big brother from another mother. Hes has always looked out for her just as much as BJ, if not more. 

He’s essentially been informally adopted by her family as BJ’s brother for life. 

“Hey, Joe.” Separating from him, she turns back toward the two of them. “Okay, I have a question, and it’s imperative you provide me with the raw, honest truth.”

Joe seems at least somewhat interested, but BJ is the one to make the smart comment. “Make it quick. I’m hungry. Practice was brutal.”

A brief brow lift from Joe is confirmation BJ isn’t exaggerating, so in a moment of rarity, Mariella bypasses all of the theatrics and skips right to the point. “Am I a nerd?”

Mariella expects contemplation, some level of astonishment that she could even fix her mouth to ask such a thing. Instead, she’s met with her brother shrugging with a simple, “of course, you are.”

Mouth ajar, hand to her chest, she asks, “what?”

“Come on, Ella, you know you’re kinda weird. Be talking to yourself and stuff.”

“It’s a sign of genius, thank you very much.”

“It’s a sign of weirdness.” She crosses her arms over her chest as a sign of unspoken protest. “If you wasn’t my little sister, I’d probably bully your nerdy ass.”

Completely done with the young man she once considered brother, Mariella looks over at Joe to see he’s on his phone. Probably texting his latest girlfriend of the week. Latisha, or something like that. He seems to cycle through girls faster than BJ. “Joe?”

He lifts his gaze from his phone, and Mariella readies to remind him of the initial question when he answers. “You’re just you, Ri. That’s all that matters.”

She’s not sure why she expected more. Joe can be of so few words at times. She just wishes this wasn’t one of those times. 

“While I do not agree with the expressed opinions, I appreciate the candor.” Chin lifted, she bids them farewell. “I will leave you be now.” Mariella can briefly overhear Joe saying something about Latisha, but it’s pushed away, outweighed by this new shocking piece of information.

In walking back over to her best friends and future members of her team when she’s a world famous singer, Mariella is unsurprised to find Promise Rose sitting on the edge of her seat while Iris simply glares at nothing and no one. 

Promise Rose is the first to speak, asking with all of the anxiety she carries on a daily basis. “Well?”

Mariella would love to lie to them, but these are her best friends. She could never do such a thing, even if the truth sucks more than the rumors of a pending B2K breakup. “You’re right.” Shoulders slumped, she groans loudly and throws herself back on the pool chair. “We’re dead meat.”

—-------

Present

You, you love it how I move you 

You love it how I touch you 

My one, when all is said and done 

You'll believe God is a woman

Watching her perform has always been an experience, a treat, a vision in some ways. The way she moves across the stage, so demanding, so in the moment, the eye contact and engagement with the crowd creating such an all-encompassing experience. 

On the stage, performing, is her element. It’s always been where she shines the most, and tonight is no different.

She’s up for a couple Grammys, already snagging two, as expected. He knows the ones she’s really anxious about are the coveted Album and Record of the Year. It’s something she’s always dreamed of achieving, and while there have been whispers that she’s a shoe in, Joe has known Mariella long enough to know that’s not enough.

It’ll only mean something to her when they’re in her hands.

And he’s confident they will be. She’s had yet another stellar, groundbreaking year, her album somehow doing better than her last. No one’s seeing numbers and sales like her. Her pen game is unmatched, not to mention her album is almost entirely written and produced by her, something unheard of these days.

She truly is an icon in the making. 

And the way she ends her performance with a standing ovation from some of music’s best is just more proof of how much she’s killing it.

Joe watches her walk backstage after nervously basking in such a response from people she’s looked up to her whole life.

She doesn’t return to her seat next to him, as expected. The final two categories are about to be announced, and he realizes it would be easier for her to remain backstage when her name is called. 

And the minute it is, he finds himself nodding with a small smile. He knew she could do it, knew that there was no way she could release such accomplished work and not leave with acknowledgment of such.

There’s an almost awkward but appropriate pause as the attendees stand and applaud, Mari suddenly rushing out from the back while holding her dress up. For a brief second, he thinks she’s gonna fall flat on her face. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She's a talented dancer, but the textbook definition of a klutz.

Always has been. 

But, she doesn’t. Thank God. He knows that’s something she would never let herself live down.

Seconds later, she’s at the mic, panicking, “oh my god!” Her breathing is uneven, and he can bet it’s because she was in the back wearing a hole in the floor with her nervous pacing. “I’m sorry, I was in the back having a panic attack.” That might not be entirely untrue. “And also, my dress is not dressing for some reason, so I’m just gonna awkwardly hold this up to avoid flashing anyone and getting sued by the FCC.” He shakes his head. Even with all the fame, she’s remained the same. “Okay, but seriously, this is insane? Ummm, thank you! I don’t— have no idea what to say. God is so good. My mama would kill me if I didn’t say that. Ooh, I want to thank my parents, of course! My big brother and two older sisters for always putting up with me singing and dancing all over the house.” Always isn’t an exaggeration. Joe can’t recall a time where he walked into the Holmes adobe and wasn’t met with or overheard Mariella working on some aspect of her craft, whether that was writing, creating beats, learning a new dance. She’s always been so focused on getting exactly where she is now.

She continues to thank her team, rushing through the litany of individuals she attributes to helping her stand where she does with the awards that she’s been awarded this night. And when he doesn’t hear his name included, he knows right away she’s in a relatively good mood, willing to play up their Oscar worthy performance.

“And lastly, to my amazing husband,” her eyes search the room, finally landing on him. “Joe, you are my best friend and my biggest supporter. I love you so much. Thank you for always being in my corner and putting up with all of my crackhead energy.” Her eyes are teary, but he has no doubt she’s pulling from the emotion at crossing off yet another box from so long ago versus feeling so moved by her inauthentic words. 

But again, he follows along with this song and dance they’ve mastered at this point, mouthing once again that he loves her too.

The music begins to play indicating that she’s maxed out her time, and he hears her quickly throw out, “I’m not on crack, by the way!” before she walks off the stage, ushered by Pharrell and Diane Warren.

Theres’s something both treasured and uncomfortable about those words leaving her mouth. They’re so freely used these days. By both of them. But the meaning and impact behind them is long gone, some place in the past where demons and skeletons lie, often tampered with but never fully addressed.

It now just leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

—-------

“I have a show on the 13th you need to be at.”

Joe is sitting on the edge of the bed, undoing his tie, focused on the balcony doors across from him instead of to his right where she sits at her vanity, removing her jewelry. 

“What?” He doesn’t need to be looking at her to know she’s angled toward him, face turned up in disgust. “Of March?”

There’s no need for a wordy answer. “Yeah.”

“I can’t.” Mari has made it a goal of hers to stay on top of her calendar as she prepares to enter the next era of her career. With the Grammy’s now over, the end of this award season is upon her, and preparation for her next album is underway. It’s why she knows and communicates in the moment of the scheduling conflict. “I have a meeting with my label to start discussing my next album.”

Joe can’t deny the fact that he half-expected her to come up with some excuse, some reason as to why she yet again can’t do her part of this joint collab of theirs. “Can’t you move it?”

“Why should I have to move my stuff around for you?” Mari can count a variety of times where she’s done so before, but that was then. This is now. They’re miles away from where they once were, and she’s not willing to inconvenience herself for him.

Not anymore. 

Meanwhile, Joe doesn’t understand why everything that’s inherently so simple has to be made so fucking complex. It’s never a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ with her. “You can tell Jax if a date doesn’t work for you. I can’t do that shit with Paul.” And she knows that. Mariella is well aware of how the WWE works. Dates are set in stone months in advance, years in advance sometimes for PPV’s. She’s just being difficult for no damn reason.

As per usual. 

In a perfect world, Mariella would be celebrating right now, would be in attendance at the prestigious Grammy’s After-Party celebrating her major accomplishments. Instead, she sits in the room with a man who seems hellbent on stealing her joy in any way he can these days.

It makes her sick. 

She’s fully turned toward him, even as he refuses to look her way. Intentional, of course. He knows how big she is on eye contact. “I did that the last time I went to a taping, Joe. I’m not gonna keep doing it.”

He glances at her, and she instantly knows he’s not backing down, not willing to let this lie. She knows she’s in for another pow-wow. A signature finish for most outings these days. “But, I can show up for you?”

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like this isn’t as beneficial for you as it is for me.” One thing she won’t put up with is him acting like their arrangement isn’t just as great for his career as it is for hers. The press and fans of both of them eat up any type of public appearance, especially when he plays the role of the loving, supportive husband who wants to celebrate his wife’s big wins with her. “And you know how busy I am after award season.”

He knows that’s typically when she gets back in the kitchen to start cooking up her next album, where she locks herself in the studio for hours on end writing, producing, escaping.

“And WrestleMania season isn’t for me?”

Truth be told, she’d briefly forgotten about that, forgotten that the biggest night of his career is only two months away. A small part of her hates that. Hates how far they are from where they once were. There was once a time where she had every single event committed to memory, would bend over backwards to attend as many of his shows that she could.

Now, she couldn’t give two shits. 

The same way he feels about her.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” She turns back to the mirror to safely remove her diamonds. They’ll need to be returned tomorrow to the designer, and the last thing she wants is to drop or lose something because of his ass. “You got your little whores there anyway. What do you need me for?”

It’s a petty but truthful jab. Mariella knows good and well that her showing up to one of his tapings after he attended the Grammys with her will be ate up by their fans. It’s good press. Great, even. 

But the thought of sitting there, with the full, painful, embarrassing knowledge that the women behind the scenes, the women who are hidden behind NDA’s and WWE hush money, see her for the fraud she is. Know that Joe will end up fucking them when the night is over and returning home to her with the scent of their cheap perfume and not an ounce of regret.

It almost makes her stomach turn. 

He chuckles, and that’s what makes her gaze snap back onto him. She hates when he does this, when he makes it seem like shit is funny. There’s nothing comical about this tragedy. “Did I say something funny?”

“Forget it.” And now he’s dismissive, trying to shut down an argument that he started. “You don’t fucking listen anyway.”

“Are you serious right now?” Mari’s eyes go wide as she stands up, finally rid of six figure jewelry but basked in growing rage. “I don’t listen? Joe, you don’t listen! You never listen! You haven’t in years.”

Joe feeds off her energy, the quiet anger he’s usually well adept at concealing bubbling its way to the surface. No one’s ever been able to get him riled up like she does. “Naw, you not gon’ do that. Make it seem like this is on me. You do what you want and then expect me to just be okay with shit.”

“Wow. This is rich. Absolutely rich.” Mari can only laugh, because this part is funny. It’s hilarious. His lack of insight is astounding. “You are the most selfish bastard I have ever met.”

“Here it is.” He’s now standing as well, hulking body angled towards her, towering over her even with her designer heels. He motions with his hand for her to continue, to go on with the victim narrative she loves to clothe herself in. “Keep going. Tell me all this shit you already know about me, how awful I am—”

“Because you are!”

Something about the intensity in her voice sends him, makes him snap back easily. “And you’re a fucking saint?” His volume is also rising, which he hates. He never allows anyone to have access to that button, to know what to press and how to press it to get him this worked up. “You don’t never do shit wrong?”

Mariella feels her anger intensify as he turns to walk away from her. She’s hot on his heels, following him into the bathroom. “God, you always do this! You always put it back on me. It’s never your fault. Always mine!”

“And this is what I’m saying.” He has his big hands planted on the bathroom counter, looking at her through the large, mounted mirror. “You’re not even hearing what I’m saying. Always so fucking defensive. I’m not the one who don’t listen, Mari! You are!”

She can’t deny there have been a number of occasions where she’s jumped into defensive mode sooner than what’s necessary. Mariella isn’t above acknowledging that. But for him to make it seem like it’s not for a good reason, if not for his role is something she won’t stand for. “So what if I am defensive, huh? Who made me this way? You did, you bastard!”

“Just stop fucking’ talking, alright?” He’s pulling his suit jacket off, tone a mixture of defeat and exhaustion. Emotional or physical, she’s not sure. She knows she certainly feels both. “I don’t wanna hear this shit anymore.”

“And now here you go, always walking away, always taking the easy way out.” Because this is his MO. He loves to accuse and gaslight, and the minute she calls him out on his hypocrisy, he wants to shut everything down. It’s infuriating.

“Fine!” He slams his fists down on the same granite counter Mariella still remembers him once making out with her on, a starting point that ended with him carrying her to their once shared bed where he would make love to her throughout the night. Such a far away, almost unfamiliar time. “You want to sit here and continue yelling, be my fucking guest. I’m not saying shit though!”

“There you go again with more avoidance. God, you’re so predictable! Shit gets too hard, you shut down. You run away.”

“Don’t fucking act like you ever want to talk about shit with me—”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Joe. You don’t know what I want, okay? You don’t know anything about me anymore!”

“And whose fault is that, Mariella, huh? You don’t tell me shit! You never tell me shit!”

“Why should I? You don’t deserve to know shit about me anymore!” It’s more emotions than anything that fuels her to add on the accusatory, “It’s not like you care in the first damn place!” It also has to be the emotions that have her eyes watering, because it’s been forever and a day since an argument between them—and there have been plenty—has made her feel anything other than anger.

This is different.

This is sadness.

 Mariella watches as Joe punches the adjacent wall, the action taking her by surprise and making her jump back from said shock. “What do you want me to say, huh?” It’s been years since she’s seen him this upset. “No matter what I fucking say, what I fucking do, nothing’s ever right, so what’s the goddamn point!” With almost desperation, he shouts, “what the hell do you want from me!”

“I want you to love me again!” She snaps with a burst of visceral emotions. His anger simmers instantaneously. Joe knows that was the last thing she wanted to say, the deep down secret she’s worked hard to keep hidden and tucked away suddenly laid out in the open for all to see. The devastation on her face gives it away as she says more to herself than him in an equally devastated tone, “but that’s gone, isn't it? Everything we had…..everything we were…..is gone.”

An eerie silence settles over them. Joe closes his eyes and does his best to regulate his conflicting emotions. Everything is felt at once. So strong, so confusing, so pressing. That was the last thing he expected to hear from her, the same way the last thing he expected to feel at said words is longing. It’s so unfamiliar and confusing. She has so much power over him. To evoke such strong emotions with just a single sentence. To make him suddenly battle with the array of feelings he’s felt toward and about her at any given point in all of the many years they’ve known each other.

It’s just a fucking mess.

But then, the focus isn’t on his emotions anymore. It’s on the quiet sniffling he hears that makes him close his eyes. Joe instantly feels something different, something similar yet almost stronger than guilt.

She’s still standing at the doorway, but her hands are covering her face, failing to hide what is both visible and audible. 

Tears. 

She’s crying.

Something else unfamiliar settles over him, something almost nostalgic, that once upon a time uncomfortable plethora of emotions he’d find himself battling whenever he saw she was upset.

It never sat right with him to see her cry. 

His tone immediately shifts to something significantly calmer. “Mari….”

“I’m just tired, Joe. I’m so so…..tired.” And it’s with an almost whisper into the enclosed palm of her hands that she grabs the nail for the coffin. “And I don’t want to do this anymore.”

He’s dangerously still, rendered almost physically unable to move. The air around them is suddenly so much more noticeable, heavier, weightier, debilitating. 

She lifts her head, revealing a tear stained, distraught expression that makes him almost as equally distraught. “I don’t want to live like this anymore, Joe. I’m not happy. You’re not happy.” Each word leaving her mouth chips away his anger and replaces it with something unidentifiable. “It’s obvious you don’t love me anymore, and that’s—” Her throat catches as she forces herself to continue. “—that’s okay. Our careers are stable enough to where we don’t have to keep up this facade anymore.”

“Mariella—”

“I want a divorce.”

For some reason, there’s always been this belief system that any argument between them is just a part, a part that’s followed up with another one, then another, and then another. But, it never dawned on him that a single part could be the final part.

The final straw.

“Mariella, we—”

He’s stepping toward her, and she’s instantly stepping back, lifting her arms. She doesn’t want him near her, doesn’t want him touching her. It’s a sting, that’s for sure. 

“Don’t.” And he won’t. Won’t cross her boundaries even if everything in him is screaming to do so, to bypass her wishes that are being fueled by something temporary. Something that will fade by the time morning rolls around. “Just….don’t.”

She’s wiping at her eyes and mutters, “I need some air.”

He doesn’t like seeing her walk away in this manner, doesn’t like ending on this point. It’s one thing to leave off with the promise of another chapter, but it’s an entirely different thing to know that what could follow is the back cover without the anticipation for a sequel.

But, he says nothing. 

Does nothing.

He just lets her leave.

—-------

2007 

The phone ringing less than ten minutes after Joe plopped his big body in the bed was the last thing he expected and needed. Coach put them through hell today, and he’d completely forgotten about an assignment due the next day, so he’d forced himself to power through his physical exhaustion to get it submitted. 

Unlike a lot of his teammates, Joe does care about his academics as much as he cares about football. He recognizes it’s important to have something to fall back on. And as a senior, he’s really at the point where failure just isn’t an option.

He’s come too far now for that shit. 

When the phone rings a second time, he realizes it might be worth answering, even if everything in his body wants him to let it ring 18 times if that’s what it takes for the caller to get the message.

Not even bothering to check who it is, Joe grabs his cell and hits the green button. “Yeah?”

He’s met with soft sniffling followed up with a quiet, “it’s me.”

At that, Joe sits up in his bed, all attention on the person on the other end. “Ri?” He’s wide awake now. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry to call so late—”

“What’s wrong?” He doesn’t care about that anymore, just wants to know what happened to make her phone him at such a time. To phone him crying, at that. That’s the part that makes him concerned.

He can’t remember the last time he’s seen or heard her do that.

He hears shuffling on the other end as she chokes out, “can you—can you come get me?”

It’s not even a question. “Send me your location. I’m on my way.”

—--

Joe nearly knocks down the damn mailbox in front of the frat house with how quickly he pulls up, his truck coming to an abrupt sudden stop. He’s barely got the truck shut off when he’s ripping the door open and jogging up the path to the house of entitled, elitist pricks who get off on the misery of others.

But, he’s more focused on Mariella who meets him halfway on the path of said house, arms wrapped around her body. 

He’s assessing her from head to toe, using the dim streetlight as a guide in the stark darkness of the night. “What happened?” Realizing she’s still hugging himself, Joe’s blood goes cold. “Did he touch you?” And when she doesn’t say anything right away, he’s trying to move past her, murder on his mind. “I’ll fucking kill him—”

“No.” Her hand is on his chest, restraining him as much as she can. The truth is that it would be nothing for him to carefully move her to the side and beat the living shit out of her asshole of a boyfriend who he’s never liked from day one. “He didn’t.”

Joe doesn’t put it past her to try to say what she thinks he wants to hear. “Ri, don’t lie to me.”

“I promise. He didn’t. We just—” and the emotion rises back up, making her pause as she pleads with him. “Can we just go? Please?”

Joe knows why she called him and not Byron. Because Joe nods and guides her to his truck without further protest. Byron would have beat Damien first and maybe or maybe not asked questions later for the mere fact that he made his baby sister cry. 

The ride back to his dorm is silent, and it’s not until they are sitting outside on the steps of Joe’s residence hall that he asks again, much calmer, still as curious, “what happened, Ri?”

It takes a few minutes for her to start talking, and while he does his best to be patient, it’s also really fucking hard to not just bypass the conversation and go straight back to the original plan of murder.

“We were—we were messing around.” Instantly, Joe’s anger suddenly shifts to disgust. While he recognizes his best friend’s little sister isn’t so little anymore, eighteen and a college freshman, she’ll always be that goofy, klutzy, theatrical kid who was always trying to hang out with him and Byron. So, hearing about her messing around is the last thing he wants, but he also doesn’t want to interrupt and allows her to continue. “He wanted to have sex, but I—I told him no.” And before the murder plan can be revived, she clarifies. “And he stopped, but then we started arguing, and he—he told me he was tired of waiting, but I said I’m not changing my mind and….and he broke up with me.”

In some strange sort of way, Joe is more relieved than anything, mostly at the fact that nothing physical happened. It sucks, and he hates seeing her upset, but it’s really a blessing in disguise. Even if she doesn’t see it yet.

Still, he’s sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Ri.”

She sniffles again, wiping at her eyes. “I really liked him and—and I thought he liked me.” 

Joe wants so badly to tell her that Damien never liked her. He liked that she was a virgin. 

Mariella had made the cardinal mistake of sharing with her ex that she was still a virgin, something the bastard, like Damien, thought he could change. When that didn’t happen and a breakup followed, that same asshole took it upon himself to share her virgin status with several friends, several teammates. And it’s become a bit of a contest almost among the basketball team, to see who can take it from her first.

It’s fucking disgusting and makes him sick, but it’s also the culture of college athletes. 

Some, at least. 

“He’s an idiot, Ri.” This is said both because it’s true but also because he just wants her to feel better, to not feel like she lost out on some prize. If anything, she dodged a bullet. 

“Maybe I’m the idiot.” She shakes her head and shrugs. “Cause I keep finding myself in the same situation.”

He’d like to call it an exaggeration, but Joe also knows that this has been an issue in almost all of her relationships for the past few years. Less an issue and more a deal breaker. Sex is something that’s deeply personal and important to her, and he’s happy she’s that way, that she isn’t just sleeping around with anyone. Especially since she seems to have a penchant for athletes. 

They can be the worst.

He would know.

“Athletes can be hoes, Ri. That has nothing to do with you.”

“You and B aren’t like that.” She then corrects with an ounce of her usual sense of humor. “I mean, you guys are hoes, but you’re nice hoes.”

He laughs. That’s a bit of the Mariella he’s used to. “True, but maybe we’re the exception.” He then takes a deep breath, speaking to her from the heart. “I’m not really sure, but what I do know is that Damien was an asshole who never deserved you in the first place. You’re better off without him.”

It’s the god’s honest truth. Ri is like his little sister, and it pained him to see her give someone like Damien the time of day, but he also respects that while he still sees her as a little kid, she isn’t. She’s a legal adult capable of making her own decisions, and he respects that.

“He had pretty eyes though.” Joe gives her a look, and for the first time, she actually, truly laughs. It’s music to his ears. “What? If I don’t laugh, I’ll just keep crying.” Her eyes light up with something other than sadness, and he watches her pull out her phone, suddenly typing away.

He doesn’t even need to ask. He’s seen this before. She’s inspired and is getting out the lyrics before they escape her. And a few minutes later, she reads to him what she’s come up with.

If I don't laugh, I'm gonna cry 

Don't wanna hear your name tonight 

I'm finally happy, not in the mood 

I don't wanna think about you

“I like it.” It’s the truth. He likes most of what she writes, outside of the shit that’s way too girly for his musical preference.

She offers him that brilliant smile, eyes twinkling with something similar to appreciation. Mariella grabs his bicep, laying her head against his shoulder. “Thanks, Joe.”

He looks down at her. “I’ve always got your back, Mariella.” And that’s a promise. “Always.”

—-------

“Mariella, this is fucking ridiculous.” Joe pulls the phone away from his face to get a specific, accurate time. “It’s almost 3 o’clock in the damn morning. Get home now before something happens to your ass.”

He then quickly jabs the red end button. It’s an unkind voicemail message to leave, but also one of several he’s left over the past two hours. The first was a lot more understanding, almost apologetic. Now he’s just fucking annoyed, because she said she needed air. He figured she’d go sit outside, on the patio, maybe even sit poolside. 

Not for her to take off for a late night car ride without telling him anything. It’s something she used to do once upon a time, when they were both broke nobodies trying to keep the dream alive. 

Such a far off, distant memory. 

Joe wishes he didn’t care. Wishes he could head to bed and let her be in her feelings. He’s got an afternoon flight out to a taping and needs to be at the airport by 10am. At this rate, he’s not going to get any quality sleep, and that shit annoys him to no end because he likes to be well rested for work. Especially in his line of work. 

Sleep deprivation can make a wrestler more prone to unnecessary injuries. 

Still, he also knows that even if he were to try to get some sleep, he’d twist and turn the whole night. He’s never been able to sleep well until she was home and safe.

But, she’s not, and that shit just pisses him off all over again. He grabs his phone, ready for yet another call to go straight to voicemail when it lights up, generic ringtone filling the sizable kitchen. He doesn’t even bother checking the caller, just hits the green button and jumps right into questioning. 

“Where the hell are you?” At this point, he’ll go pick her up his damn self just to see her two feet planted in their LA mansion. “This isn’t—”

“I’m sorry—” Joe is the one who’s sorry because that certainly isn’t Mariella. Confused, he pulls the phone away from his ear again to see that it’s an unfamiliar local number. Bringing it back so he can ask who the hell this is, the caller beats him to it. “I’m looking for Joe Anoa’i.”

The woman’s voice is professional, but there’s also a hesitation there. A hint of emotionality almost. 

Frowning, he answers, gruffly, “This is Joe.” He’s quick with the follow up. “Who is this?”

“My name is Leslie Owens, and I’m an officer with the Los Angeles Police Department.” And just like that, Joe knows his entire world is about to be flipped upside down. “I’m sorry to inform you, but your wife has been involved in a car accident….”

—-------

2013 

“Just a couple more steps….”

“Ri, this is stupid. I’m gonna open my eyes.”

He can hear her dramatic gasp as she squeezes his hand. “Don’t you dare ruin this moment for us, sir!”

“The moment’s gonna be really ruined if your accident prone ass makes me fall down these damn steps.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m only accident prone when it comes to myself. Not others.” She sounds so proud of this fact too. “Thank you very much.”

She makes him smile, but that’s a given. There’s always an immense amount of joy and contentment when he’s around her. Her positivity, while excessive at times, is calming. Always has been. 

He’s happy when he’s at least done with the steps and on a leveled surface. Recovery from face planting on pavement has to be easier than a tumble down three flights of steps.

That reminds him. “This place doesn’t have an elevator?”

She’s quick with the answer followed by the jangling of keys. “Naw. That was the other place, but it was out of our budget.”

He says nothing. It seems like a lot is out of their budget these days.

Joe can hear her insert the key as well as the turn of the door knob and subsequent creaking of a door. She’s pulling him forward and he naturally steps over the mantle that she surely would have let him trip over because of her obliviousness in the moment. 

It’s when she drops his hand that he knows the end of this unnecessary dramatic introduction to seeing the apartment for the first time is nearing an end. 

“And…..open!”

Joe doesn’t need to be told twice.

The first thing he sees is her beautiful smile as she stands before him with her arms stretched up and in a ‘v.’ “Welcome to our first place together as husband and wife!”

Looking around, it’s clear as day that Mariella is probably the nicest thing in his line of vision. It’s not a bad looking apartment, at all, just plain and clearly in need of some modernizing updates/renovations. 

He can tell she’s tried to make it a little more homey with the rug and curtains, as well as family photos, but it’s still a far cry from the kind of place he’d love for them to call home.

“It’s….something.”

Mariella rolls her eyes. “I mean, it’s not the Hilton, but it’s ours, and that’s all that matters.” She moves over to him, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck. His hands plant on her hips, holding her to him. “Sure, the balcony is basically a ledge, and our view is of a park, so it gets loud sometimes, and I may or may not have witnessed a crime the other day……hope he’s alright.” Her brows cave together in brief confusion before she shrugs and back to smiling like they just won a million dollars. “But that’s besides the point because every couple has their struggle origin story. This is just ours for now.”

He’ll be happy when they’re out of this chapter of said story. This is one of those times he somewhat wishes he waited to marry her until they were both in better financial places. More him than her. She deserves so much better than this. She deserves the world, and he’s going to give it to her one day. 

He just prays that day is sooner rather than later.

“Hey.” He looks down and refocuses his attention on her. “As long as I have you….I’m good.” She moves to lay her head against his chest, murmuring, “I love you, and you love me. That’s all I’ll ever need.” And in true Ri fashion, she gasps and pulls away, looking up with almost childlike excitement. “I almost forgot!”

In many years of knowing Mariella, Joe has learned it’s always best to just let her do her thing and see what happens versus trying to navigate the eccentric workings of her chaotic mind.

So he watches silently as she rushes over to the counter to dig through her purse and pulls out her phone. She does that rapid tapping and sliding of her fingers that she does when in a self assigned rush. Less than a minute later, he’s hit with an all too familiar opening piano followed by even more familiar lyrics.

It's undeniable

That we should be together

It's unbelievable

How I used to say, that I'd fall never

Joe smiles as she moves her way back over to him, reaching for his hand. “Our wedding first dance song to christen our first place together. We have to dance. It’s literally in the marriage rule book.”

He chuckles. “Oh, really?” 

“Duh.” She gasps and bites down on her bottom lip when he quickly yanks her toward him. Joe’s hand is on the small of her back as hers move up his check, locking behind his neck. “See….not so bad after all?”

He dances with her, but his attention is focused less on the music, even the dancing and just her. “Anything’s better if you’re there.” She beams up at him and giggles as he spins her so that her back lands against his chin. His head dips into her neck, as she places her hands on his forearms.

He’s taking her in, enjoying this moment with her when she says leadingly, “you know there’s another first we haven’t done yet to christen our place…..”

Joe makes a sound and presses a kiss to the side of her neck. “Hmm. And what is that?”

He can only imagine the way her cheeks must be tinged red as she answers almost as if she doesn’t want anyone to overhear. “That thing you’re really good at.” He smiles against her skin and holds her tighter. “I especially like when you do that one thing with your tongue and—Joe!” Too much talk, not enough clothes being taken off. He doesn’t hesitate to lift her over his shoulder, eager to show her just how much he also likes to do that ‘one thing’ with his tongue.

—-------

Present 

Two weeks.

Two weeks since he’s seen her big, beautiful smile.

Two weeks since he’s heard that infectious laugh.

Two weeks since he’s heard her voice.

Two weeks since the night that changed everything, the night that some idiot decided to drive drunk and crashed into her vehicle head on. 

Two weeks since she was airlifted to a Level 1 trauma center where her injuries were so severe that they immediately took her into surgery that saved her life in one way but couldn’t in another.

Because she has yet to wake up from the initial accident. 

Because it’s been two weeks since Mariella slipped into a coma. 

It’s been two weeks of that cruel waiting game, that slight smudge of hope that rises where the doctor comes in with just as much desire it’ll be a different prognosis only for the same thing to leave his mouth every time with that same disappointed expression.

“We just have to continue to wait.”

Joe isn’t sure he’s ever hated a saying more than he now hates that one.

Just like her mom and other family members, he's been at the hospital every day, just sitting for hours at her bedside, holding her hand that’s much colder than he’s used to. Than it should be. 

The room is silent, a type of silence he’s unused to. There’s never silence when Mariella is around. She’s always talking, always smiling, always laughing.

But not anymore.

Now she just lays there, unconscious, Joe praying more than he ever has in his entire life that he gets to see her pretty eyes yet again, hear her beautiful voice scream at him, sing to him, laugh at him, anything.

He just needs her.

The love and support from her fans has been astounding yet expected. She’s America’s Sweetheart. Music’s new queen. Everyone loves her. She’s received an endless amount of support, kind words, prayers, and well wishes from both fellow artists and fans. Though the fans seemed to have done the most. Even holding several vigils outside the hospital. And though he’s still pissed that piece of information got leaked, he knows she would be so moved by the love. 

Joe wasn’t entirely in agreement with sharing Mariella’s coma status with the world, but it was the decision that was eventually settled on by Iris, her manager, and the rest of her team with the family’s eventual blessing.

The specifics regarding her injuries, however, have remained confidential, and for that, he’s grateful.

He’s sitting on the side of the bed yet again, taking over the shift from April, Mariella’s mom, whose devastated expression hasn’t changed from the minute he had to tell her and the rest of her family what happened to now, as they all wait with all of the hopes and prayers in the world for the prognosis to change.

“This is the longest I’ve ever gone without hearing your voice.” Just saying it aloud feels strange, wrong even. That he gets to sit here and talk while she lays there, plugged up to a million machines, deprived of even that basic right. “I never knew I could miss something so much until now.”

And it’s the truth. 

Realizing his NFL dreams weren’t going to become a reality was devastating, but this….this is another level of hell.

“You said…you said you want me to love you again, but….but I can’t do that, Ri.” His hand is over hers, thumb rubbing the skin that’s not covered by the IV and large bandage. “I can’t do it again because I never stopped loving you in the first place.”

It’s a disgusting, pathetic feeling. To know that the words he should have said to her when everything first started falling apart can only leave his mouth after something like this occurs. After he’s so brutally reminded of the fragility of life and the importance of telling people how you feel when they’re still around.

There’s so much he needs to tell her, so much he needs to clear up, so much he needs her to tell him.

She deserves clarification.

He deserves answers.

Joe just prays he gets the chance for that to happen. 

It’s nearly seconds after that thought crosses his mind that he feels movement under his hand. His eyes snap up to see the one thing he’s prayed for every day for the past two weeks, the one thing he deep down was scared he would never see.

Mari’s brown eyes. Glossed and confused as all the outdoors, he sees them darting all around the room and feels her trying to move her hand. 

He’s not sure he’s even breathing anymore. “Ri?” It’s as she continues to blink and try to move her head that he realizes this isn’t some cruel hallucination. She’s awake.

Mariella is awake.

When the shock wears off, he all but runs to the door, ripping it open as he calls for the doctor, the nurse, any medical professional available to tend to her. 

Joe is right on the doctor’s heels as he moves quickly to her bedside, digging for something out of his white coat pocket. Joe moves to the other side of her bed, closely observing any and all interactions of both. 

“Mariella, I’m Dr. Reynolds, and I’ve been overseeing your care here.” Joe then looks back at his wife who seems more awake by the second but still with her mouth turned downward, like she’s lost at what’s happening. 

Mariella squints when the doctor shines the light in her eyes, wincing almost, and Joe has to catch himself from telling the doctor to be careful. 

“Do you remember what happened?” Dr. Reynolds asks, and Joe watches closely as she looks at him with the same level of confusion. “Can you tell me what year it is?”

His stomach drops when she shakes her head no.

“You were in a car accident.” The doctor’s voice takes on a different tone, something not as optimistic, more….ominous. “Can you give me your full name?”

Again, a slow shake of the head to answer no.

Joe goes to ask the doctor what’s going on, if this is some side effect that people can have when waking up from a coma, but the man is pointing in Joe’s direction as he asks a final question. “Do you know who this is?”

And it’s then, as she shakes her head ‘no’ yet again that Joe realizes what’s happening. A new kind of ruination overcomes him, making his throat suddenly feel almost as heavy as his heart.

It’s a heartbreaking realization that he has to say aloud because it feels almost too unreal to be true. 

“Her memories are gone….”

[ficthots]

Stanley

A/N: Well, it's happened. I am out of hockey fic retirement to bring ya'll this wonderfully delicious Matty smut. I mean, he's now a Stanley Cup champion...it's only right! As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ content only. DNI if under 18

3:23 AM. 

The clock on the bedside table displayed what a whirlwind of a day it had been. A life changing day, really. The battle was over and the victors were celebrating. Your husband was celebrating. Now his legacy was permanently etched in NHL history. The biggest feat of his life. 

Matthew Tkachuk was a Stanley Cup champion. 

You were amazed that you had made it back to the house at all that night. Given that some of the team were still out and about celebrating their win. Matt had wandered into the ensuite just minutes before, giving you plenty of time to prepare. 

Prepare what exactly? Your celebratory activity for him. 

Wearing only a Panthers jersey, and only the jersey, you laid across the king mattress, waiting for your spouse to come and find you.

The feelings you had been experiencing all evening were practically indescribable. Truly, is there anything better than watching your favorite person in the world fulfill all of his lifelong dreams right before your very eyes?

Standing to the side as he embraced his brother, sister, mom, and dad, your eyes were rimmed with unshed happy tears. When his gaze finally set on you, you watched the pure unfiltered joy emanating from him. He had you wrapped up in his arms and placed the most knee weakening, heart pounding, clit throbbing kiss on you that you had ever experienced. 

He was gone in the blink of an eye, pulled away to celebrate this moment with his teammates. You watched on, cheering the entire time, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of you.

Now, he was finally all yours once more. With the light turning off behind him, he halted in his tipsy steps to see you. His jaw flexed, eyes growing instantly darker. “So, what does a girl have to do around here to sleep with a Stanley Cup champ?” 

He slowly stalked towards the bed, shirt already discarded, only wearing his tight boxer briefs which did little to hide the raging hard on he was sporting. His movements were excruciating, simply burning to feel his touch on you, anywhere. 

Hovering over you, arms braced on either side of your body, the loose jersey sitting high on your thighs, his eyes raked over your figure. He hummed, a deep low rumble from deep within his chest. Your breathing was already growing ragged, short, anticipation building as his brows furrowed. 

Fingers grabbing the fabric on you, lifting it ever so slightly from your body, he let it fall back without exposing you. “What do you want, baby? Hmm?” Your lips darted out, moistening your lips quickly.

“You.”

His deep blue eyes locked onto yours, lowering his head to seal himself to you. It was sweet, gentle, the exact opposite of what you were expecting. Parting your lips, your tongue slowly moved from your mouth to his, sweeping seductively over his own. The taste of beer and liquor still heavily covered him. 

A whimper escaped your throat as your slow makeout session slowly built in pressure. His roaming hands left your waist before tangling themselves in your hair. Sitting up to reach him further, your hands landed on his chiseled torso, rock hard beneath the warm embrace of you. 

Speaking through kisses, his voice was ragged and desperate. “Take it off for me, baby, please. I need to see you, mama.” His fingers gripped the hem, helping you deposit the discarded jersey to a heap on the floor. 

Laying flat on the bed below, his eyes bounced around, not sure where they needed to land. It took every ounce of strength he had to stand up and watch you. “Spread your legs,” you didn’t hesitate. Knees parting, your dripping core was on display for him.

Knowing what to do next, your fingers sat on your tongue for a few seconds, moving lower. You jumped in surprise at the electric shock that jolted through you when the pads of your fingers reached your clit. 

An unfiltered moan slipped from you, watching as Matty shook his head. “Be quiet. We have a house full of family that could hear every single little noise you make. Does that turn you on? You fucking slut,” his own hand dipped into his briefs, slowly starting to stroke himself. 

You bit your tongue, rubbing slow circles on your nub, slipping further down to plunge a finger into your soaking cunt. A gasp escaped, but you swallowed it down. Matthew had never seen such an angelic site before. 

There you were, on display for him, playing with yourself. Your hair splayed around you in a near perfect halo. His wife. His real prize. Although, he had to admit, bringing that Stanley Cup home was a damn close second. 

“Matty, honey, please.” He loved hearing your needy voice beg. Begging for him to fuck you senseless. He was holding off as much as he could. He had finally removed that last layer of his clothing, squeezing his dick to dribble out even more precum to assist with his jerking.

His teeth sank into his lip, finally pouncing on you. It was messy and disgusting, the exchange of saliva between you two. Dripping from your chin, clawing at his back to attempt to bring him as physically close as possible. 

Yet, the tip of his cock rubbed against you, refusing to enter where you needed him most. Panting together, his fingers tweaked your perked nipples, mouth enclosing around you, nearly taking your entire breast. Your head flew back, eyes squeezed shut, his hand clamped over your mouth to keep your noises at bay. 

Lips landed on your tits, sternum, the soft flesh of your stomach, before his mouth closed around your nub. “Baby, I want,” you were struggling to get your words out between the lapping at your slit and the harsh sucking of your clit. His meaty fingers sank into you, two at a time, and began pumping.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, your knee, speaking in a teasing way. “What’s that, mama? What do you want?” His shit eating smirk lit you up in flames, locking eyes as he ravished your cunt. “Use your words,” he nearly sang to you. 

“I wanna suck you off,” he continued for another minute or so, entirely ignoring your request. Finally, he removed himself from you, inching towards you, his swollen cock aching for attention.

You didn’t wait, enveloping him into your warm and welcoming mouth. His eyes instantly fluttered shut, hand grabbing a fist full of hair as he began face fucking you. “Take it, baby. Take it all for me,” you greedily accepted. You had him fully in you, the tip of your nose brushing against his well maintained hair. 

It went on like this for what felt like seconds only before he pulled back, gasping for air. “No, I can’t cum in your mouth. Need your pussy.” In the brief moment when you caught your breath and let your eyes slip shut, he had moved and was sinking deep into you. 

“God fucking dammit,” he hissed, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to last too long tonight. “Fuck me, Matty. Show me how a champion would pound this pussy.” It was like lighting a fire from within, he began fucking you senselessly. 

You had never cum so much in your life. It felt like the entire time was spent enveloped in the most wonderful orgasm you had ever experienced. Knowing the dirty words leaving his mouth was no aid to you. Being completely wrapped up in him was always the best thing in the world, Matty filling all of your senses.

There was nowhere else you would rather be. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Exclaiming as he emptied himself into you. He was shaky, arms no longer able to hold himself up, he collapsed onto you. Your hands traced lazy circles on his back, fingers dancing along his scalp. You peppered kisses all over him, wherever you could reach.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” You whispered to him in the darkness, he snuggled closer to you, breathing you in. Grounding him back to reality, knowing that as of tonight his life was no longer the same. 

Matthew Tkacuck was a Stanley Cup champion. But he knew that he held his prize every night when he slept. He was only able to murmur out a I love you so fucking much before the snores echoed into the room.

Tomorrow held all sorts of promise and you couldn’t wait. 

[writingmeraki]

gents in dilemma.

a park sunghoon drabble !

pairing : rich!boy!sunghoon x gn!reader, teasing classmates to ???

genre : fluff/humour (?)

warnings : nothing just sunghoon using his privileges as a pretty rich boy lmao also no actual knowledge os spider-man comics im sorry if it's inaccurate <3 !

author's note : wooo! a double update ?!? who is thisss mayhaps very random but i told ya'll ( if u read my recent mingu drabble ) it's been a while since i realeased anything enha :( this was sort of a warm up to get back into writing for them! if you have any ideas pls send them in!! i rlly want to write for them again hehe &lt;3

sp dt to my enha moots ! @blue-jisungs ; @lheebra ; @haknom ; @odxrilove ; @hsgwrld ; @quaissants ; @enluv ; @hannie-dul-set ; @tqmies ; @byuqi ; @urszn ; @flwoie ; @tranquilpetrichor ; @hqrana ; @shuamorollss ; @strxwberry-skiess !! just to let you know i love u guys and think of you when i open this app 💌 !! i am ia a lot but i truly am grateful for you and your works 🩷!

word count : 1.2k

You were stuck there anyways. Your brother wouldn’t come pick you up earlier enough and all your friends left already so you found no point in wanting to leave and sit outside in the hot and humid weather where you’ll probably just end up with mosquito bites and sweaty skin. 

The song played in your earphones as you lazily flipped through the Spider-man comic. It was your newest hyperfixation and you had difficulties getting copies but you were getting there. 

Suddenly an intrusion popped in front of you as you got to the good part, but you paid no mind to whoever it was. 

Besides, who in their right mind would want to make small talk with a stranger in the damned detention room?

The music was dull but you could hear the sound of someone clearing their throat. Sighing, you put down the comic and looked unamused at the boy in front of you. 

Park Sunghoon. Rich, smart, pretty boy who lived up to all the stereotypes that clung to his personality while also hanging out with the same sort of people. Not a stranger you thought. 

You wondered how you missed seeing him and…Park Jonseong? (If you remembered correctly) walk in. Perhaps you indeed were too focused in your daydreams. 

Now amusement flickered in your gaze as you looked up at him. 

He definitely did live to his pretty boy name you mused as you took in the moles on his face, the shade of his pink lips, the messy yet perfectly sitting hair of his. 

He gulped under your calculating gaze, not knowing why he felt nervous all of a sudden when it was his idea to tell you not to say anything to Mr.Kim for when Jay and him would ditch the detention they got that day. He confidently told his friend he would threaten you if you didn’t comply, perhaps maybe bribe you a bit and surely it would do the trick.

But how his words seemed to bite right back at him because suddenly his mouth felt drier and tongue heavier under your gaze. For a brief moment, he wondered how he had never seen you, otherwise, he knew he wouldn’t be able to forget a face like yours. 

“Now now,what ever have I done to have the Park Sunghoon right in front of me?” You grinned teasingly at him and fuck you had dimples. He swore he might have died in that moment and reached heaven.

He felt a shove that snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Uh-yeah um we- wait you know me?” You raised a brow at his words, the amusement only growing as you saw the tip of his ears getting red.

Was he flustered…by you?

“ ‘course I do, it would seem weird if I didn’t at least to you people.” You murmured the last part, darting your eyes to his friend who seemed to roll his eyes.You weren’t sure if it was because of you or because of Sunghoon.

“Can you get to the point idiot-”

“Hey! Shut up, yeah? I’m talking-”

“All I see is you acting like a huge fucking si-”

They whispered to each other, almost making you giggle at the way they both seemed to be arguing over something, you figured you were somehow involved. 

“Well see- the thing is we’re going to ditch this.” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head a little as you leaned forward in your chair, placing your head on one hand.

“And? Does that concern me?”

“We don’t want you snitching, that’s what he meant. You can ditch too, Mr.Kim’s known for never coming back to his detentions once he leaves.” 

You shook your head, “I’m fine here, I have to wait anyways, you can-”

Suddenly a thought occurred to you, “Hmm, the snitching on you both part sounds tempting, I might even get brownie points, struggling with his class anyways.” 

No,he was not supposed to find your smirk cute, nor the mischievous glint in your eyes.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Wha- what’s in it for you?! You can ditch too! Didn’t I say that already-”

“Wait. I might have something.”

Jay stared at Sunghoon in both disbelief and annoyance while you looked at him curiously. He set his bag down and opened it, pulling out something.

“Here.”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The newest edition of the Spider-man series. You’d been trying for ages to get it, but held yourself back when you saw the triple digit price point. 

Of course he’d have this. 

You gasped in disbelief, looking in awe as you grabbed it and flipped through the pages. Sunghoon found it absolutely cute the way your eyes lit up. 

He was concerned about how enduring he already found you in the span of approximately 10 minutes. 

“It’s too expensive, I can’t-”

“Who said I am giving it to you? I’m letting you borrow it so you won’t rat us out.”

It seemed the tables turned and it was your turn to be flustered under his teasing gaze and he did in fact have a cute grin. Shit-eating one but adorable. 

“I’ll take it to my grave.” You hugged the comic to your chest and did a zipping your mouth motion, throwing away the pretend key. He let out a chuckle at your actions and the sound absolutely did not do something to your heart ( You think it might have burst ). 

Jay had been observing the interaction and he knew why exactly Sunghoon did what he was doing. Seems like the supposed ‘ice’ prince was melting at your mere presence. Oh he was so going to spill everything to the rest of his friends and tease him for the life of it. 

Sunghoon’s gaze moved towards your phone, seeing it was still unlocked he took it while you yelped in alarm, “Hey! I said I won’t say anything!”

You had stood up from your chair and now only realised just how much taller he was than you when he began to type something with his hands raised above you. 

“Here. My number and I rang it to have yours. Call me when you’re done reading, I expect to get my comic back soon enough.” He held your hand and plopped your phone in it, while you remained frozen at his bold moves. Even the blonde next to him was surprised at his actions, that probably said a lot to you. 

He swung his arm around Jay who had an amused grin as he shook his head, waving bye to you, pausing for a moment when he realized something as he looked back at you.

“What’s your name?” 

“Uh-oh um,” You were still in a trance at what just happened as you said your name, not as confidently as you wished and you cursed yourself mentally for already being so hung up on his actions. 

He repeated it as if testing it out, “See you soon then,” He grinned at you as you just chose to wave back, thinking you might just say something stupid. 

Looking down at your phone, you saw his number and back at the comic book that laid on the desk, you grinned bashfully, shaking your head as you laughed.

Maybe just maybe, Park Sunghoon wouldn't have to wait until you finished the comic for you to see him. 

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌

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[scentedpepper]

Missing | TWD

MALE READER X S5 GROUP

Summary: The group reverberates with a somberness upon your potential death

Content Warnings: Mention of Major Character Deaths from previous seasons, S5 and below spoilers

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Not too sure how I feel about this one

Could be read as GN for the most part (he/him used a few times, 'Father' used once, 'Brother' used once)

Was originally supposed to be centered around Daryl and Rick, but somewhere along the writing process, I devlled into just about every other member of the group

Ya'll know how many last names I had to look up for these tags

Enjoy?

_________________________________________

7 days.

Seven days of them searching for their found family member who went out to investigate and never came back.

Glenn thought for sure that maybe with all the shit they have been through, the apocalypse must have treated you a little kinder.

That was assuming you were already dead.

Which Rick, in all his glory, continued to remind everyone that until there is evidence, there are just as many possibilities as there are stars in the sky.

He thought it was a strange fit, all doom and gloom, it wasn't like Glenn to carry around the carcasses of such negative presumptions about his loved ones, but nonetheless, he had just the same.

An ever present reminder as the fire was stoked by Glenn's constant fidgets, his spaced-out breaths being released with the baggage of endless possibilities.

"Glenn's gonna lose it when he sees this one. "

Is what Daryl said to Rick on the night of day 5, your shirt clenched in hand, approaching the church with footsteps so heavy you could mistake them for Walkers.

The worst part, Rick thought, was how he had found it, which further fueled the possibility that couldn't help but arise.

A decaying Walker's den where there was a mass majority of bodies wearing clothes; Not Walker corpses.

Hopeless and without explanation Rick approached camp with a grim expression that took root in his features.

And when Daryl had handed the shirt to Glenn after he feverishly chanted let me see it, let me see it, over and over, Daryl observed the way his hand shook when he snatched it and how the same hand came up to rub his face after he confirmed in his own mind that, without a doubt, it was yours.

Maggie had to take the shirt from his hands and when she felt the dirt and grime ragged against her skin, she almost burst at the seams, Rick knew by the strain in her brows and the way her hands turned into fists at her side.

She was the first person Rick had questioned upon your missing presence, wanting to know who you had walked out with last night and who stayed behind, wanting to pinpoint possible places you might be, or routes you could've taken.

Her response was ridden with anxious adrenaline, her lips chewed raw in worry, bouncing on her toes before stomping off and pulling everyone together to go looking for you.

There was no conversation within the group but a mutual agreement.

Naturally, the first person they looked to for some account of wrongdoing was Gabriel.

You had always been so intuitive, like you were the one who could read minds not him.

The others felt so comforted by you, Gabriel assumed.

He was only too accustomed to the fact that everyone saw the good in you, the positive, and while that brought him a modicum of solace, there were times where he couldn't help but wallow in envy.

A man of God and yet, it was you who they looked to, as if you were Christ himself.

As if you were his light.

Gabriel couldn't understand this fascination.

When he had confronted you about it, rather presumptuously, Gabriel was too quick to gauge the situation and allow his ego to speak for him. Said confrontation also happened to occur right before Maggie and Sasha who shared pointed looks with each other as they watched the scene unfold before them.

You were quick on your toes, always had been. Back on the farm, when Shane had been more akin to a wild boar, you were always the first to confront him. Always calm, or whenever you spoke you at least had the appearance of it, always matter of fact. Even when your voice raised or when anger was seething through you, it seemed like everyone just stopped, and listened.

It was one of your redeeming traits, sharp tongue laced with facts that wouldn't hesitate to point out things that were missing, contradictions, positions and beliefs.

It left some satisfaction amongst the ton when Gabriel pushed out of Judith's designated room, nearly knocking Carl off his feet as the door came with his exit.

A flustered look had replaced him, no doubt having felt the embarrassment, as if he had been burning inside.

After a beat, he had apologized under his breath and carried himself in haste towards you.

Unfortunately, this incident occurred the last night anyone had seen you.

When everyone had risen that morning, one by one coming off the floors of the church and stirring awake those who remained sleeping, you were the only one who hadn't stirred. Because your body wasn't even of prescence.

Almost immediately, everybody went on an emotional and mental frenzy.

Even when the conversation with Gabriel didn't bode well for him. He refuted, if a little pathetically, that you weren't very friendly towards him.

Upon hearing of what had happened just hours before they woke, Daryl seemed to retreat back to the deepest of his old roots.

Begrudgingly, Rick knew this was what they called "fight or flight."

Luckily for everyone involved, Daryl never moved unless there was something to fight for. The man had gained some sort of control over the years of personal development but like a dog, he'd jumped on Gabriel the second tensions rose.

There was a knife pressed against Gabriel's throat when Drayl pushed him into the nearest wall and the preacher did nothing but pray to himself and accept his fate.

Minuets later of interrogation and threatening, Michonne and Tara intervenned, though Daryl seemed none too eager to back off the smaller man, not until he was physically being dragged back and Rick telling him to get a hold of himself.

"He's lucky I didn't slit his fuckin' throat! It was him!"

Because back in the day, with Merle at his side, he would've and to hell with anyone who said differently.

Rick saw Carol's lips part to say something, as did Abraham, but nothing came out. Not with Rick cutting through them like cloth to speak, clearing his throat, hands rising in demand to appease the tension in the church.

"We are going to look for Y/N. It's no secret that we're standing on a ticking time bomb. " His head turned sharply towards everyone, waiting a beat before he continued. "Everybody gets paired off. No one leaves each other's sides. "

His gaze softened upon the archer as he came around to see the anger and frustration but most of all, the pain in his eyes. He wanted to assure him, they were going to find you. But he couldn't find the words to, as his own fingertips surged with doubt and as the rest of the days proceeded, his whole body seemed to become encapsulated by it.

They all began out at once, weapons gathered, determination and grievance fused into them as they exited the church in pairs. The only 2 persons staying behind being Judith and Abraham.

Before the front doors fell, Rick sought out Gabriel, his fingers ghosting over the knob as his stomach tied in knots.

"If you so much as touch a hair on her head. "

He was referring to Michonne who'd gotten the unsavory job of catering to Gabriel, "I swear it'll be the last thing you do. "

His eyes followed Gabriels timley swallow as he spoke.

"And if I find out you had an inkling of any wrongdoing, God won't be able to save you. "

It wasn't just Daryl that was shaken by the fear of your abduction –or worse, there wasn't a moment where Rick could stop to inhale without thinking about you. How tightly you had embraced him 2 nights prior, when he'd confided that maybe he wasn't suited for this leader job anymore, that he didn't know where you all would go, or if you'd even make it past these religious grounds before succumbing to hunger.

There was warmth radiating off you like a furnace and he couldn't shake the soothing way your fingertips gilded against his forearm as you told him that things would fall into place in time, no matter how difficult it got.

But Daryl was a damn firecracker, this way of his to emote through hostility and intimidation was a way for him to cope with the potential loss of his brother.

You were not Shane.

There's so much Rick could rationalize before he no longer had the will to counter how much he wished you were there now to quell the savagery within his best friend.

Carl was as much of a mess as the archer, if not more. The rage within him seemed to blaze each step closer to the forest. It burned at his eyes, tearing his hands into fists that felt as if their own knuckles may shatter within the grasp.

Rosita had to stop him.

"What?" He initially sneered at her, pushing out of her grip and continuing to stomp forward until he could feel her nipping at his heels.

"Carl, now is not the time to get some kind of revenge, alright? We'll find the fucker, but getting ourselves killed is not going to help. "

In time, she got him to sit down and collect himself, which consisted of roughly pacing and rubbing his face with his palms in an attempt to scrub the hostility right out of him. He wanted to scream, to fucking yell the earth apart because this wasn't fair, none of this was.

Yet, he found it somewhat easier to sit there and allow his teeth to sink into his knuckles while he suppressed tears.

Eugene and Tara had wandered the farthest the fastest, the church began to slowly disappear the deeper they strayed into the density of the trees until there was no distinguishable church at all, or street or houses for that matter.

They were silent the entire way, like speaking would somehow shatter the chances of finding you, safe, sound and alive.

So then when Tara's voice did come, meek and soft, far from anything close to the tone she usually sported, Eugene nearly jumped.

He halted immediately, his body turning as he looked every which way as if you may suddenly appear behind a tree.

"We should turn around and just make our way back. " She whispered.

That was her biggest concern, because with the route they had taken, any further into the unknown, she knew there were no way to familiarize themselves with where they were.

"Rick said to keep searching til sun down and that's just what I intend to do. " There was an an irrtation in his expression and an agony to his voice that confirmed his intentions were anything but logical.

"Eugene. "

And again, his body suddenly felt like it wasn't his, or maybe his bones weren't aligned and he was a puppet, a stranger, someone entirely else.

"Eugene, we won't get anywhere trying to force out this search. Please. The sun is already setting, it's near impossible to see 10 feet ahead and even if we were to press further in the dark, they're-"

She didn't need to finish her sentence to know what she wanted to say, the image was still clear in her mind as if she had just watched the last interaction you'd had with her and Rosita. The absolute dejection you allowed her to see in your eyes, the hesitation and restraint you had felt in giving your hugs. She took one and wrapped herself around you and you didn't dare do more than reciprocate the tightness, afraid to hurt her. As if.

After some minuets, Eugene came to and they turned back.

When they got to the church, Abraham was doing circles around the confinements of the holy sanctuary with Judith in his arms.

"Where's Gabriel?" Eugene spoke cautiously, realizing the weight in his voice when he did so.

"He's locked in his office. Said to leave him to rot or somethin'. Not a bad idea, the bastards a fuckin killer. "

Abraham was just as convinced as Daryl. No one asked to elaborate because they somehow knew the moment he did, he'd lose his shit. Like a bomb that's set to a timer, ticking away until it explodes into your ears.

"Find anything?" He asked as Tara slid down the wall she had been leaning against since they returned and brought her legs to her chest. Eugene shook his head at him which made the soldier nod back bitterly.

By day two, Michonne decided to conduct a one man search party for the nights. When the moon came out, she snuck off to the woods and scouted the area she had previously searched, for any evidence that may have been missed on the 1st visitation. Which would prove to cause strife amongst the group when Carl found her out four days later.

"What are you doing?" He challenged harshly as he forced himself into the dark brush behind her with Michonne's body jolting at the abrupt arrival of company.

"Carl-"

"Are you crazy?”

The boy wasn't the only person who she'd receive these questions from, Tyrese had found himself wandering her way as well.

"Why would you come out here on your own? Have you lost it?" He griped under his breath, tone laced with disapproval as if the woods had just come to eat them alive.

"Well, what are you doing out here?" She retorted back in a whisper yell with a forceful gesture to the man who was just as armed, just as ready as her.

Her efforts were fruitless, though, and no response was heard, which left her walking the same way she came.

Rick wasn't happy about it.

At first, when Carl appeared through the door in the night, he thought his son was the culprit of the secret night searches, but soon realized what has transpired when he saw Michonne making her way inside.

"Everyone is on edge, alright? Everyone is doing exactly what is expected of them, they have been looking and looking and Michonne, it's about time you pulled your head from your ass and sat down for the night. " Rick had said 5 minuets after they'd settled in the privacy of Judiths room. Their voices were lowered considerably so as not to wake the others, but Rick's tone wasn't anything less than a demand.

"So we should just sit around?" She had, then, the urge to spit at him and remind him that you could be dead in the next second. Gone. Poof.

"We are not–" Rick's voice began to rise in octaves but he took a moment to lower the volume. "We are *not* just sitting around. "

There was an enervation in Rick's stance that Michonne could feel pricking her heart strings. He looked exhausted, absolutely strained.

"He could– he could be in trouble. " Michonne attempted to keep her voice leveled as she looked around in disdain, her lip trembling and Rick saw this, that she could not come to accept the way things were."I can't bury him." She hissed as clear glistens of wetness fell from the pools in her eyes.

Rick knew exactly the terror Michonne felt in the pit of her gut and he could almost see inside her head, the vision of a funeral and everyone in a heavy sweat of depression and rage, because it was the same one he saw every night before he closed his eyes.

A few dead bodies surrounding the fire pit in the woods while everyone circled around you and Daryl cried.

He had already envisioned it all, envisioned the way Glenn would crack at your loss. While Maggie was reduced to hiccups and broken speeches, she had somehow found the strength to collapse to the floor and refuse help.

Bobs face would fall, for once, it would fall and Sasha wouldn't be able to handle the breath leaving her body, clutching Tyrese, who looked just as devastated, to her to bring her solace.

Carol would gasp but it wouldn't matter because no one would hear her over Daryl's sobs, no one would see the way her lips pulled down at the corners and the lines in her face would tighten.

Rick didn't like to think about how he might react. He imagined it be something similar to crazed. But beyond that, he didn't want to picture it.

And what about his son? Carl who hadn't even fully grown yet. Rick couldn't stomach the thought, the sheer utter torment he'd experience watching his sons body begin to wither. He didn't want to know.

You'd been there while he was unconscious in that hospital bed, through every storm, everything, by his side. You were a father to Carl as much as he was and you'd been nothing short of a supporting role to Rick. There's been times when you just drove the both of them off in the car, taking trips to lakes and nearby parks, anywhere that offered a semblance of normalcy.

You'd scout the places out days before, cleaned it free of Walker's and set up a picnic on the cool greens of grass or near broken tables. Even once or twice when the fire smothered to ambers or if Carl's blood started to burn so hot, you'd give them a midnight rendezvous, all three of you climbing up a tree or anything that fit the current circumstances in which the group resided.

Rick had to run a hand through his hair and all he could do was grab Michonne by her shoulders, look her forcefully in the eyes and say:

"We are going to find him. And anyone who gets in the way of that will pay. "

Because he wasn't going to accept anything else.

Which is why he didn't stop Tyrese or Daryl or anybody who wanted a chunk out of Gabriel the morning of day eight when he suggested that they move on.

He even went as far as leaving the church entirely, not caring to put aside personal feelings, not caring how he may look. His expression was sour and drained and at this rate, the only thing he cared about was finding you.

He would have no problem burying his tomahawk right into the preachers skull.

Daryl kept watch most of the nights, refusing rest for the past week because every time he tried, he felt as if it were a ploy. He became distressed each time he was reminded you weren't going to walk in and slumber on the floor next to him or Carol. You weren't anywhere.

It pissed Daryl off beyond belief to know there was an actual possibility that you weren't breathing anymore, weren't thinking, feeling.

His anger had to be one of the few things driving him into the same track less search the next day as he pushed through the forest ahead of Rick.

Things were starting to feel all too familiar and he thought he might find you in a barn just the same as Sofia. But you didn't pop out the doors in any walkers veil, you weren't bloodied nor torn apart. There were no traces of anyone or anything in those forests.

You simply disappeared.

And it left them in another night of quiet.

Spoons scraping agaisnt cans, the faint sound of chewing. A tiny droplet of rain hitting a window pane or two.

That was all.

No one spoke, yet they all sat around a room cramped with anxious bodies.

Sasha's leg brushed against her guns outline, her boots rubbed together, her tongue flicked at her teeth and she felt as if her thoughts were vibrating the inside of her skull, riling her from the depths. There was an eerily absence of anything positive, because at this point no one was expecting good news.

Gabriel's execution was more or less inevitable as each of the nights rolled by. There'd be the lingering aura of danger and anticipation due to the preachers remaining presence. But no one ever mentioned it, let alone had the will to.

It was hard to digest the concept of your loss because not a single one of them wanted to bury you, the group preferred to be broken and you had become like an integral part of what bound them.

Food was beginning to dwindle down the line of low and low to nonexistent.

And as they sat there, in silence, there was collective knowing resonating around them that this would be the last night they spent in the church.

Not that anyone dared to speak it, not even Rick, who gazed afar into the burning light of a candle and contemplated.

Carol noticed first, maybe it was her nose, fine tuned for the scent of trouble and like a dog trailing a rabbit, she jumped up with a clatter and darted towards the front door.

But she didn't even get halfway across the church, with Rick trailing closely behind her, along with the others who were all clammering to their feet, when the doors burst open on their own, the cool whip of wind entering the room as the room itself seemed to rise up in temperature.

There, with a trail of blood drops, a scarily dehydrated and filthy body fell into her arms.

It was you.

And the sigh of relief felt as if you breathed the air back into everyones lungs. It reanimated the whole church.

[fl3shm4id3n]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɪꜱ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ-ᴡɪꜰᴇ!, ʜᴇʟᴀᴇɴᴀ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)

Tw: SEASON 2 POILERS!! Targ!cest, death of a child, reader is sobber for once, mentions of infidelities, brothels, poor Helaena, comfort from reader, Alicent being a horrible mother, reader and Alicent slap each other, funeral scene, mentions of nudity (if you know, you know), angst with a bit of comfort towards the end.

A/N: Ima start writing again, but before I wanted to write a HOTD fic before going back to writing for the Human Ape Series. Hope ya'll like it.

Masterlist

Ever since Aemond had killed Lucerys Velaryon things had changed. You and him had become distant. You barely talked or even looked each other in the eye. He began going to the brothels and warming the bed of the woman who had 'made him a man'. You hated it. Since then, you've drink day and night, always drunk. Not wanting to be aware of anything. You envied Helaena at times. Wishing your have that innocent oblivion that she was on twenty four seven. You thought life was good, but no. Ever since your sister declared war, everything was no longer the same.

That night, you had sneaked out as many times as you did. Went to the tavern and got drunk off your ass. Till the point of passing out. Hours later, you went back to the castle. Tired, and a growing headache. When you got to your chamber, you saw that it was empty. Aemond must have gone to that wrinkly old whore. You stumbled over and landed on the bed. As soon as you closed your eyes, you fell asleep.

You didn't know how long you've been asleep. You were startled awake by the door being opened. You groaned, sitting up to see who it was. You thought it was your mother, but you saw that it was Helaena. With your niece in her arms. She seemed panicked and confused. You quickly went over and in a corner, holding her child close to her. "Helaena? What's wrong?" You asked, sitting up still trying to wake up. "They killed the boy.." She said, calmly. But you could hear the panic in her voice. You were confused. Not sure on what to do. Despite that, you got up and walked towards her. Getting on your knees, seen the tears threatening to spill from her eyes and the look of her horror in them.

As much as Helaena wasn't a fan of being touched, you couldn't help but wrap your arms around her and your niece. Hugging them close to you. You could feel her panicked breathing against you, as you hugged her. You softly held her and stroked her hair as form of comfort. "It's okay, It'll be okay." You tried to comfort both her and her niece.

The next day, you found out what happened. The rat catcher and his partner had killed her son. Right in front of her. You learned from Helaena that she was the one who told them who the boy was. It must have been horrible for her, specially for her. Everyone believed that Rhaenyra was responsible. They believed that she must have sent someone to kill a child. It made no sense to you. You doubted it was her who'd ask for such horrible act to be done to a child. Specially since she's lost not one but two of her children.

That morning, you had not touched a goblet of wine at all. Just smelling made you sick to your stomach for some odd reason. You resorted into just drinking water that whole time. You were conflicted, not sure on what to say or do. Helaena was devastated and so was your brother Aegon. When Aemond heard of the news, he left. Most likely back to the brothel. To search for his comfort.

You went to check on Helaena, to see how she was doing. When you got close to her room, you couldn't help but hear what Alicent was telling Helaena. "Heleana, what you saw last night when you came into my room-" Alicent was cut off by Helaena who shoved something into her arms. 'This is for my boy." She said, turning away from her and walking away. You stepped, locking eyes with Alicent. You could see the guilt in her eyes. She wasn't trying to comfort her daughter, she was trying to explain to her of something she saw in her room.

You then snatched the bundle of fabrics from Alicent in an aggressive manner. "Get out." You hissed at Alicent, before she could protest you shouted at her. "Out!" You shouted, making Helaena cover hear ears in discomfort. Finally, Alicent had left. Leaving you and your sister alone in her room. "Sorry for yelling." You apologized to her, walking up to her. As she picked up the small toys that belonged to her son in her hands. You couldn't help but look at the bundle of green in your hands. Seen that it was a blanket She had made for her son. It was beautiful.

When you got closer, you didn't know what to say or do. You noticed her Helaena's head was filled with many thoughts. Many stressful thoughts and had no idea what to say or do. You wrapped your arm around her waist and pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry.." You whispered to her. She then turned to face and hugged you tightly. This was something that surprised you. Helaena was not a fan of hugging or being touched, until now. You didn't hesitate in hugging her back. Softly stroking her back, you could feel how her tears began to pour into your shoulder.

She'd began to cry hard against your shoulder. All you did was hold her and allow her to cry onto you hard. Your poor sister, the one who never anything wrong, was the one to pay for your husband's doing.

After a while, you had left Helaena with one of the maid, to make surer she didn't do anything to harm herself in any way. You went to find your mother, who was in her chambers with Sir Criston Cole. When you stepped in, you noticed how he stood up straight as your mother remained seated on her bed, in tears. "Leave us." You told him, he looked at Alicent, which gave him the nod to leave.

Now it was just you and the woman you called mother. "So what happened." You asked her. "Your nephew-" She tried to explain, but you cut her off. "I already know that, what I am asking is. What happened in your room that Helaena wasn't suppose to see?" You asked her again. Alicent had a look of guilt on her face. The same one she had when she was talking to your sister. "It was... It was nothing." She said, making you grow even more suspecious.

"Nothing happened. Yet, instead of consoling your daughter who had witnessed her son getting killed. You were trying to tell her something that happened in your room." You said, making Alicent even more nervous. It got quiet, but you added another sentence. "You know, what I find odd?" You asked, making Alicent look at you. "How there was no guards in the halls, not even Sir Criston Cole was in the halls, guarding like he is suppose to." You said. The guilt was eating Alicent up, you knew you had struck something inside her.

"So, what's that 'nothing' that happened?" you asked her again, you had gone close to her, face to face. You looked down at her, seen her look of horror in her eyes. "Me and Sir Criston.. were. Doing things." She choked up. "Things? What kind of things? Where they that important that you had to do at night?" You asked, clearly pressuring her into telling you more. "We were fucking!" she finally said, almost in fear. All you did was nodded and backed away from her. "You and your sworn sword, were fucking. While your grandson was getting-" Before you could finish, you were cut off.

"Stop it!" She demanded, getting up from her bed and getting close to you. "You don't get to say anything or judge me, while you sneak out into the night and get drunk!" She hissed, making you laugh. "Well, I'm not the one hiding any secrets. Everyone knows that I'm a fucking drunk. Unlike you, I don't have anything you fucking hide." You hissed at her. "Unlike you. Who wants to keep an image and show everyone how perfect you are. You're nothing but a whore, a horrible mother!" You accused, then you felt a sting on your cheek. Alicent had hit right on the cheek. You touched your now red cheek and looked at her. She was breathing heavily, shocked that she had put her hands on you.

Without hesitation, you slapped her right back. You watched as she stumbled back. Giving you a look of shock, as she held her cheek trying to sooth the pain on her cheek. "You really are the worst." You simply said, then you stomped out of her room.

Later that day, things only got worse. Alicent insisted in Helaena and Aegon's son to be dragged down a cart in the city, with you her and poor Helaena. Even though the grieving mother had insisted that she didn't want the citizens close to her. She didn't know them, she didn't care about keeping an image. She only wanted to be alone and grieve in her own way. But no, like always. It had to go Alicent's way.

You wore an all black dress, with a small crown on your head, which had a thin black veil that covered your whole head and face. You sat on Helaena's right and Alicent on her left. While she sat in the middle. The sky was covered with grey clouds, as if. The gods knew about the death of your nephew. The streets and building were crowded with the citizens. They felt for the queen's pain, they chanted their condolences and threw seeds towards the three of you and onto Jaehaerys's body.

Everything felt overwhelming. All eyes were on you three, specially on Helaena. It made her uneasy, you could feel her shifting on her seat. You reached down to hold her hand, as a way to ease her nerves a bit, but that didn't help. She attempted to get up, but she was stopped by Alicent, only making her even more anxious. Helaena's breathing quickened and her movements became more frantic. It didn't help that the wagon which held Jaehaerys seemed to have got stuck. The guards attempted to move the cart, but it was too difficult. The pushing and shaking caused Jaehaerys to move violently. That was what did it for Helaena. She needed and wanted to get out of there.

You quickly got up from the wagon and took Helaena's hand, without hesitation she followed you. Alicent was right behind us, trying to get us to stop by trying to grab Helaena, but she couldn't since you and her were both running away from all that chaos happening in the street.

Finally, you and your sister had got to the castle, you both slightly calmer, but you could still see Helaena's panicked state. you continued to hold her hand, as you walked up the stairs. As you walked up the steps, you saw Aegon, coming out of hall with a few men behind him. You, him and you sister locked eyes with each other. But didn't say a word, Aegon went on his way. So did you and Helaena, quickly, you both walked back up the stairs, into Helaena's room.

That night, you were finally in your private chambers. You were with Helaena all evening until she fell asleep. You wanted stay with her, but you also gave her space. You were still wearing the black dress and the small crown on your head. You sat in your bed, trying to process what happened today. It was complete chaos, specially for your poor sister. Who had suffered enough, yet, your mother still pushed for your sister to make a public appearance. Despite he protest.

You reached up and took off the crown from your head, placing it on the bed. You had no idea what to do, or say. A lot had happened the last few weeks. If only you could do something, but what could you do? Nothing, you couldn't do anything. You felt helpless, if only youo haven't left that night, maybe things would have been different. Maybe Jaehaerys would be alive or the men responsible would serve justice.

While you remained in your train of thought, you heard your door open. Having you snap back into reality. You turned to see who it was. Your husband, except. He was naked, the only thing that covered him was a black cloak. Without warning, he had the rob fall down and pull at his feet, revealing himself to you. You didn't say anything, you simply stared then looked away. "So, you remembered you had a home?" You asked, while looking at the fire burning in the fire place. You felt him sitting behind you on the bed, you could feel his body heat near you.

"I'm surprised to see you here. You must have also remembered you had a home too." He said, implying about you'd spent endless nights back at the tavern. It made you roll your eyes but it was true. It was silent for a whole minute, silence felt like an eternity. Until Aemond finally broke the silence. "I'm sorry." He simply said, it sounded genuine. This had been the first time, in a few weeks that you had spoken to him. You as much as you wanted to be mad at him for being gone and being in the arms of his abuser, you couldn't. You understood why he'd had gone to find comfort in her arms and not yours. It was part of his trauma.

Just like you, you'd find comfort in drinking until you dropped, Aegon would find his comfort in sex and drinking. As for Helaena. She found her comfort in the many bugs that she'd collect and keep. Daeron? You wouldn't know, it's been years since you've seen him. He must have his own form comfort. You were all damaged, ever since you were kids.

You turned and looked at Aemond. Seen that he did not have his eyepatch on like he usually did. You both just stared at each other for a moment. Until you finally spoke. "I forgive you." You responded, while you and him still kept your gazes looked. It gone silent again, then you watched as Aemond leaned close to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug. You then wrapped your arms around his naked waist, also hugging him close to you. It felt like a decade being this close to him. It felt nice, having him back, even if it was for a little while.

[etherialblackrose]

fmokx(envy)

Part 2 to TÌprrte

Na’vi dictionary:

Tawtute - human, skyperson

Sevin- pretty

Summary: Neteyam finally gets you alone

Word count: 4k

Warnings: jealousy, stalking, yandere vibes hate fucking(if you squint), dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, p in v sex, creampie, oral(m receiving), face fucking, mild dub-con, overstimulation, cucking, angst

A/N: Neteyam is unhinged in this one, I hope ya'll enjoy

  All characters depicted in this fic are 18+ minors dni

It had been a week since your time with Lo’ak in the cove and needless to say you were still on cloud nine. You two had been spending a lot more time together since then, deciding that you could start showing your affection for each other in public instead of in secret as you had been previously. No one had seemed to notice….….no one except Neteyam. Every Time he saw you with his brother, his blood ran cold. He saw everything, from the stolen glances that lasted only seconds, to the lingering touches, down to the way that you two seemed to always go missing around the same time and it made him sick. He didn’t know what this feeling was. It traveled from the pit of his stomach and wrapped an ice-cold hand around his heart like a vice. 

Was it envy? No, it couldn’t be. Neteyam couldn't be envious and besides, what did he have to be envious of his baby brother for? Lo’ak had never done anything that warranted Neteyam being envious. No this…..this feeling was jealousy.  What was that tawtute saying his dad used to say to him as a kid? ‘Beware the green-eyed monster?’ Whatever that meant, he felt it whenever he watched you two. Lo’ak had snuck off to your tent early in the morning to spend time with you before he went on a hunting trip with their father. He wasn’t going, Jake only ever took one of his sons hunting at a time and since Neteyam had gone the past few times, it was Lo’ak’s turn. Once they left he’d finally have the chance to have some alone time with you. 

  ~(Y/n)’s pov~

You let out a small giggle as Lo’ak planted kisses all over your face. He had snuck out of his family’s tent early this morning so that he would have a little time to spend with you before he was gone for most of the day hunting. He left a trail of kisses from your cheek down to the sweet spot on your neck. His kisses soon turned into nips and gentle sucks and soon your giggles turned into gasps and soft moans. “L-Lo’ak don’t you have to get ready to leave soon?” You gasped between moans. 

“In a minute mama, there’s something more important I wanna do before I go.” You let out a small gasp as you felt him put his hands on your hips and pull your bodies closer, his hands on your hips pulling them downwards causing your ass to grind backward into his clothed cock. Reaching a hand behind you, you grab the back of his head as he sucks on a particularly sensitive part of your neck. His hands soon found themselves running across your body, one coming up and sliding under your top to play with your pert nipples and the other snaking between your thighs to play with your clothed sex. 

“B-baby you need to go get ready before-” You bite back a moan as two of his fingers find their way under the band of your loincloth and begin playing with your clit. He was making slow deliberate circles on your clit, making sure to rub it a few times before sliding his fingers down to tease at your slit to gather some of your slick then moving them back up to rub at your clit again. “C’mon talk to me mama, before what?” He asks as he pinches and pulls at one of your nipples. “Before someone comes looking for you and finds us like this.” You suck in a sharp inhale as you feel two of his fingers slide effortlessly inside you and begin pumping inside you slowly. 

“Let them come then so I can show them just how good daddy is making you feel. Do you want that sevin? For me to show everyone how wet you get for me? But if you want me to stop I will '' As soon as he says that all his ministrations stop and his fingers immediately pull out of your soaked cunt. Your eyes, which had fluttered closed at this point, snapped open. “N-no Lo’ak, don’t leave me like this…please” Your voice came out as barely a whimper as you begged him to keep going. “C’mere then mama,” He says as he grabs your jaw with his free hand and turns your head slightly to pull you into a kiss, all the while his fingers plunge themselves back into your soaked cunt. 

You let out a moan of ecstasy as he finger fucked you. Soon he was pulling his fingers out of your cunt again but before you could protest further, he was ripping both of your loincloths off and rubbing the fat head of his cock against your slit, gathering some lubrication before pushing the head into you. The hand that he had just been using to pleasure you moments before comes up and grabs the back of your leg and holds it up to get a better angle as he slides into you deeper. 

You both moan as he slides into you inch by inch until he's fully sheathed inside you. He readjusts his hold on the back of your leg and captures your lips in a kiss once again as he begins to move inside you. The pace he set at first was surprisingly slow, it was like he wanted to savor the way you felt around him before his pace picked up and he began fucking into like an animal. The pornographic moans you let out were muffled by his mouth covering yours, the kiss serving as a way to silence you while still letting him hear your beautiful voice. 

 After he finds your sweet spot with little ease you break away from the kiss and throw your head back onto his shoulder in pleasure, all the while his name spilled from your lips between broken moans. You could feel yourself coming undone under him and couldn’t keep it together much longer.  “C-cumming , I’m cum-” He gives you one particularly hard thrust that sends you over the edge. You moan and as you come around his length, the clenching and fluttering of your pussy sends him over the edge as well and he comes undone inside you, painting your walls white with his cum. 

 He all but collapses against you and you two spend the next minute and a half recovering from what was surely the best quickie you two had ever had. Gently, he pulls out of you and goes to grab a rag for you. He comes back and begins to wipe the sweat from your face before folding the rag in half to help you clean up. You jump a bit at the feeling of the cold rag on your overstimulated cunt. After helping you clean up, you both get redressed and as you lay on your mat he gives you a final kiss. “Make sure you get some sleep yawne, you have a while before you have to be up” You simply nod, too tired to argue, and watch as he exits your tent and heads to meet up with the rest of the hunting party. 

~Later~ 

 To say you were tired was an understatement. You had spent the majority of your day helping Neytiri with various things around high camp and you were bone tired. Now all you wanted was to soak in the nice cool waters of the spring you had found. Making your way through the winding tunnels of the cave system, you eventually come upon the telltale vines covering the entrance and push them aside as you walk in. As you approach the water, you carefully strip and walk into the water until it's just above your knees. You shiver a little as you walk further into the water until it's just below your collarbone. A content sigh passes your lips as you relax into the water. This was the first time you were going to be alone today…….or was it? Unknown to you, Neteyam was also there, waiting for you.

 After watching you for a few minutes he decided to make his move. Silently he removes his loincloth and walks into the water. Coming up behind you, he immediately wraps his hands around your waist and pulls your body flush to his chest. The suddenness of hands on you causes you to startle but you soon calm down as lips meet your cheek and travel down your neck. Believing the owner of the lips to be Lo’ak you relax into what you think is his embrace. 

The kisses soon turn into him nipping and sucking at your neck as one of his hands comes up to massage your breast while the other snakes between your legs to rub at your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips and you let your head fall against his chest as he continues pleasing you. The hand that was once gently massaging your breast soon turns to pinching and pulling at your already hard nipples. Something felt wrong though, the movements were all right but something was off about them. Opening your eyes you’re met with Neteyam’s face.

  Quickly you push him off of you and cover yourself, a deep purple blush gracing your features. “N-neteyam what are you doing? What are you doing here?” You ask as you slowly back away from him. Neteyam doesn’t look embarrassed or even worried that you found out it was him, instead, he just looks disappointed. 

  “I was hoping that you wouldn’t figure it out this fast. I wanted to make you orgasm at least once before I revealed myself.” His tone wasn’t remorseful, he actually sounded upset. “Please just let me explain,” He says as he approaches you. 

  You take a step away from him the second he gets closer and in an attempt to soothe you he stops in his tracks. “I’ll listen but please don’t get any closer.” He nods his head in compliance before speaking again. 

  “I’ve had feelings for you for a while and just didn’t know how to tell you. Last week I managed to get the courage to say something when I found you here with my brother. I know it was wrong but I couldn’t help myself, especially after hearing how you moaned for him. You don’t know how long I've dreamed of hearing you moan like that, to be the one making you moan.” 

  As he continued to explain, your brain was running a thousand miles a minute. Neteyam had seen you and Lo’ak together, he had heard your moans, he had seen his brother fucking you, he saw you come undone around his brother's cock. You felt sick listening to him but some part of you liked what he was saying. His confession had led to heat pooling between your legs. Your clit was throbbing in need of attention but you brushed off the feelings. Neteyam had pretended to be his brother to try and fuck you, and you weren’t going to let that go so easily. 

 He notices you backing away and begins approaching you again. “(Y/n) please? I know what I did was wrong but just give me one chance to prove that I can fuck you better than he can.”  A deep frown settles onto your features and you keep backing away from him until you trip over your own feet as you near the edge of the spring. Neteyam wastes no time as he makes his way over to you in three quick strides and helps you up, pulling your body against him. He reaches a hand up to pull your face towards his. He pulled you so close that your noses were practically touching. You instinctively flinch as his lips hover above yours and he lets out a low growl at your actions. 

 “Please Nete, this is wrong. What about Lo’ak?” His grip on your face tightens at the mention of his brother's name.

 “Fuck him, as far as I’m concerned right now, my name is the only name that should be coming out of that pretty little mouth of yours. I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll only be able to scream my name from now on. Do you understand me?”

 You could only whimper in response and soon feel his lips roughly press against yours. As his lips moved against yours, you could feel his fangs occasionally graze your bottom lip. His tongue poked out from between his lips and shoved its way inside your mouth and began rubbing against yours. 

The intensity of the kiss was making you dizzy and with no way to pull away, as his hand was firmly on the back of your head holding you in place, you had no choice but to hang onto him as he explored your mouth with his tongue. Just when you felt like you were going to pass out Neteyam pulls himself away from your lips a tail of saliva follows, still connecting your mouth to his. Your chest heaved as you attempted to catch your breath from that dizzying kiss, you were so busy trying to focus on breathing that you almost didn’t catch Neteyam speaking. 

  “On your knees, now.” You barely had time to comply before he roughly shoved you to your knees. As you stare up at him, the hand that he was using to hold the back of your head comes to cup your cheek. As he cradles your face in his hand, his thumb comes out to gently run across your lips, eventually deciding to press against your bottom lip. 

 “Open.” He commands as his thumb presses harder against your lips. You comply by opening your mouth. He takes the opportunity to stick his thumb inside your mouth, making sure to press it against your tongue.

 His face twists into one of surprise when, without prompting, you begin to suck on his thumb. Your warm and wet tongue runs across the digit, sending a shock through his system that settles directly in his groin. He lets out a small groan of approval as he presses his thumb harder against your tongue. While you continue to suck his thumb he grabs his cock and gives it a few lazy pumps as he watches you obediently suck his thumb.

 Deciding he’s had enough, he dislodges his thumb from your mouth and positions the fat purple head of his cock directly in front of your mouth, taking care to rub his precum-soaked tip across your lips. “Come on sevin, open that pretty little mouth of yours and give it the same treatment you just gave my thumb.” Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock.

It was the first time you had seen it and what you saw worried you. While both brothers were well endowed in both girth and length departments, what Lo’ak lacked in length Neteyam made up for. By your estimate, he was only a couple of inches bigger than his brother but those inches worried you, especially considering he was expecting you to put it inside your mouth.

 Neteyam noticed your hesitation and the look of discomfort on your face and let out a dark chuckle. “What's the matter, sevin? Never seen a cock this big? Don’t worry, I plan to take good care of you, now open your mouth.”

Your lip quivered but you complied. No sooner than your lips had barely parted, he was already shoving most of his length inside your mouth. You could feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you gagged, allowing him to use this as an opportunity to shove his cock the rest of his cock into your mouth. Both of his hands were now on the back of your head, pressing your nose firmly against his pelvis.

 He lets his head fall back and releases a low guttural groan as he feels your throat spasming around his length. You began to panic and struggle against his hold on you. You begin to push against his thighs in an attempt to dislodge yourself but it was no use, your actions did nothing but cause his grip on your head to turn painful

 “Relax sevin, the faster you relax, the faster I’ll let you breathe.” He lets out another groan as your throat spasms around his cock again. “Fuuuccckkkk~ You’re not even sucking it yet and I’m already about to cum.” Somehow, you manage to relax just enough to allow yourself to take small breaths through your nose.

Once your throat stops spasming, Neteyam takes this as his sign to partially pull out of your throat. You didn't get a chance to breathe, however, because as soon as he pulls out he’s ramming it back down your throat. At this point, he wasn’t even trying to make sure you could breathe as he begins to violently fuck your face. You could do nothing as you felt his cock repeatedly going down your throat, all you could do was brace your hands against his thighs and wait for him to finish. 

 After what seemed like an eternity, his hips eventually still and he once again roughly presses your face against his pelvis as he cums down your throat. You could feel the thick ropes of his warm cum running down your throat and into your belly.

He holds you there for a few seconds to make sure you swallow it all, he releases his grip on your head. Assuming this is as good an opportunity as any, you push away from him and collapse onto the ground, gasping and coughing as your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen. 

 Neteyam doesn’t give you much time to recover before he’s on you again, pinning you against the floor of the cove and kissing your neck once again. You let out a whimper as you feel his fingers on your, rubbing small quick circles into the sensitive nub.

You weakly grabbed his wrist in an attempt to stop him, but that only spurred him on. You harshly bit down on your lip in an attempt to stop the moans from pouring from your lips but you couldn’t help the way your back arched off the ground under his touch. He smirked and his pace quickened as he felt the grip you had on his wrist tighten. 

  “That’s it yawne, I know you’re close so just go ahead and cum for daddy.” You didn’t have much of a choice because soon after he whispered those words into your ear, he harshly bit down on your neck, sending you spiraling over the edge.  He watched as you fell apart just from him rubbing your clit, he hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet. 

  As you lay there panting, you couldn't help the overwhelming sense of guilt clawing its way to the front of your brain. What would Lo’ak think if he saw you right now? Cumming from having your clit touched by his older brother. You had to end this and get away from him, maybe everything would get back to normal after you left this cove. 

 “O-okay Neteyam, you got what you wanted, I want to go home now.” You say as you feebly try to sit up but your attempt is stopped by Neteyam pressing a hand against your chest. 

 As you looked up at him through tired eyes, what you saw scared you. His eyes, instead of the pools of golden amber, were considerably darker. He had truly begun to scare you now.  Tears began to well in your eyes. He silently grabbed the back of your legs with one hand and pushed them to your chest, with the other he pulled his cock and pushed it so that the head was pressing against you, a trust away from penetrating you. 

  “N-Nete-” He silences you by swiftly capturing your lips in another sloppy kiss, leaving you dizzy and gasping for air once again when he pulls away. His lips are just barely hovering over yours as he speaks. 

  “I’m not stopping until you’re cumming on my cock sevin. I’m going to ruin this pussy of yours. When I’m done with you, you won’t be able to think of anything but me the next time my baby brother fucks you” A few tears roll down your face upon hearing his words.

He kisses them away before pulling his hips back and ramming himself inside of you, sheathing himself completely. A strangled moan leaves your mouth and your back arches off the ground when he enters you. He doesn’t wait long to start fucking you though. The pace he sets is animalistic and as he beings fucking into you, your hands fly to his back in an attempt to hold onto something. 

  As he fucked into you, you couldn’t help the moans that slipped out of you. Despite everything, Neteyam fucking into you felt good. Your pussy was fluttering around his cock and causing him to groan into your ear. You could feel a familiar pressure building in your lower belly and didn’t care that you were about to cum all over your boyfriend's older brother's cock. 

  After a particularly hard thrust right into your sweet spot, you let out a loud moan.  Sensing you were getting close, Neteyam started talking into your ear. 

  “That feel good sevin?” He asked, you could hear the smugness in his voice

  “N-Neteyam…please”

  “Tell me how good it feels sevin,  tell daddy how good his cock feels inside this tight cunt of yours” He sent another hard thrust directly into your sweet spot that had you seeing stars and slurring

  “It feels s-shooo good” You slurred, he was fucking you dumb and you couldn’t care about anything else. 

  “Who’s pussy is this?” He asks with a growl. You bit down on your lip to suppress the moans spilling from your mouth after he asked this. You knew what he wanted you to say but you couldn’t. 

  He growls in irritation and begins to slow his pace until he’s practically motionless inside you. Whimpers leave your throat as your pussy clenches around his cock. You attempt to grind your hips into his, but he firmly holds your hips flush against his, preventing you from getting an ounce of friction. 

  “Neteyam…please, please keep going. I was so close.” You were on the verge of tears as you begged him to keep fucking you.

Neteyam roughly grabs your face in his hand and forces you to look at him as he speaks, his voice coming out as pure venom. 

  “I told you sevin, I’m going to ruin you for him. So whatever fucking illusion you have that you’re going to go back to him after this needs to end now.  This pussy is mine now, I’m going to be the only one that fucks you like this, understand?”

  You nod as much as you are able, and he releases his grip on your face. “Now I’m going to ask you one more time. Who’s. Pussy. Is This?” 

  Mustering all the courage you could manage, you shakily respond. “...y-yours…” 

  “Good girl.” He chuckles and readjusts your hips before resuming his brutal pace. You let out a loud moan and throw your head back as his cock begins to abuse your sweet spot. The pressure from earlier returned, this time it was threatening to become your undoing. 

  “Good girl~ You’re such a good girl for daddy sevin.” He’s practically purring into your ear as he pistons his hips into yours. 

  “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…cummming. I’m coming!” You were moaning incoherently as his cock abused your sweet spot over and over, sending you over the ed for the second time

  He chuckled at your fucked out expression. “That’s a good girl sevin, just like that, cum all over daddy’s cock~” His hips never stopped or slowed as he fucked you through your second orgasm.

  You whimpered as he continuously pounded your poor overstimulated pussy into oblivion. 

  He let out a particularly loud groan into your ear and his thrusts became sloppy as he neared his release. 

  “Daddy’s going to cum soon sevin. Do you want that? Do you want daddy to cum into this tight little pussy of yours?”

  You weakly whimpered in response, you weren’t in any state to answer anything he asked of you. By now, he was fucking into you so hard that you could swear you feel the tip of his cock pressing against the entrance of your womb. 

  “I hope you’re ready sevin. Because here…thrust…it…thrust…comes!!” His hands move from holding your legs down to your shoulders, as he pulls you down onto his cock. He throws his head back and lets out a low guttural moan as he releases inside you. You can feel his cum filling you up, and he gives a few more lazy thrusts before pulling out of you. 

  As he pulls out and looks at you, his eyes soften. Your eyes are half closed and your chest is slowly heaving up and down. He can see the bruises he gave you already starting to form on both your arms and legs and a twinge of regret settles in his heart.  He hadn’t meant to be this rough with you but once he started he just couldn’t stop himself. 

  Gently, he picks you up and carries you both into the water. As the cool water hits your skin, you begin to whimper. “Shhh, it's alright sevin. I’m just cleaning you off and afterward, I’m going to take you home okay?” You give a weak whimper in response. It's not like you could do much else so you let him clean you off.

  ~~~~~

 After Neteyam had cleaned you off, he carried your tired body back to your tent and laid you down on your mat, covering you with a blanket. He gives you a kiss on the forehead and as he moves to leave you weakly call out to him.

“Lo’ak?” After all that he had done, he had wished that you were calling out for him and not his brother.

  “Yes sevin, I just have something to do so I’ll be back okay? He says as he takes one last look at you and exits your tent, making his way towards the entrance of highcamp to greet the na’vi coming back from their hunt. As he helps out he can see his brother brother sneaking off to your tent. The icy cold hand of jealousy comes clawing back and wraps its hand around his heart again.

 One day you will be his, even if that means breaking his little brother's heart

Eta: Please check out this post!

Taglist: @pandorxxx @samistars @neteyamsyawntu @xylianasblog @oasiswithmyg hope ya'll enjoy part 2

[kyleoreillylover]

The Bloodline x Fem!Reader

Summary: What's it like being the female member of The Bloodline?

A/N: The Bloodline is one of my favorite factions, so I need to curb my love for them by writing this! Hope ya'll like it!

Since you are the youngest, by default they are very protective of you. It can be suffocating at times- and causes a lot of arguments-but you know they mean well by it.

Aside from Roman, you were the talker of the group. You had the devils tongue and a pretty face- so manipulating others came very easy to you. You and Paul surprisingly formed a friendship with each other, he was kind of a mentor to you and the both of you constantly plotted new schemes and plans to punish your opponents. The audience lived for your interactions and everyone on the roster knew if the two of you were alone that trouble was brewing for them.

Jey, Jimmy and Solo were your personal guard dogs; always being at ringside for your matches, helping you when your opponent had the upper hand, constantly being at your side during interviews, when all of you were backstage. Jey and Jimmy would shieldyou from the brunt of Romans anger, walking you to your car after the show was over to make sure you are safe. You are their little sister, and they will do anything to protect you from the harsh realities of this world.

Solo especially, the two of you are closer in age and you are closer to him than with your other brothers. He will always keep an eye out for you, making sure you are comfortable and that no one bothers you. If you tel him anyone messes with you he will without a doubt beat their ass himself, and if it is a woman he will verbally beat them and intimidate the shit out of them.

You are like the Rhea Ripley of the group, dominant as hell and making sure that your boys are dominant as well, no matter what takes. And by extension, that means you always interfere in their matches unless they specifically ask you not to. You always laugh and taunt their opponents when they go to hit you after you attack them only to realize that they can't.

And they do the same for you. Obviously they won't hit your opponents, but hitting them with a title or a chair doesn't count, right?

If Roman isn't there (which let's be honest, half the time he isn't on Smackdown) then you act as the leader. It is natural to you, you are already abrasive and everyone backstage is intimidated by you, so there's no problem.

If anyone messes with your family, they have hell to pay from you. It doesn't matter if they are a man or a woman, they are stay on the injured list for a long time either way.

If any woman is dumb enough to insult you or anger you in any way, you control your anger for the most part because you enjoy to make them sweat and wait for your revenge. It is more fulfilling making them scared and to make them watch their back than to unload all your anger on them at once.

Since Jey and Jimmy would shield you from the brunt of Romans anger, the two of you didn't really butt heads at all. But if you guys did argue, all hell would break loose.

The two of you were mirrors of each other; power hungry, manipulative, spiteful, willing to do anything and everything to stay on top. But unlike him, you had loyalty, which was the basis of all your arguments. You hated the way he treated Jey, the way he would belittle him at every turn just because he was right about Roman all along. Nothing was off limits during an argument, and the only way it ends is if the both of you put away your pride long enough to put it behind you.

You might’ve been the meanest person on the roster, but ironically you were the one your family went to if they needed comfort. When Romans mind games were too much for Jey, you were a place of solace for him, letting him hug you and cry into your shoulder, let him release his pent up emotions. You distracted Jimmy by making him laugh with your inside jokes and sarcasm whenever he felt overwhelmed. Solo rarely came to you, but when he did, no words were needed, only a hug and the company of one another. If Roman was stressed out about a match, you would take charge and make sure he had nothing else to worry about that would make him even more stressed.

it's not just the women who were intimidated by you-it was the men too. And not just because you had 4 guard dogs always looking over you, though that was a very good reason. You were the Rhea Ripley in the Bloodline for a reason. You didn't hesitate to beat a mans ass or have a match with them if they were being an idiotic pest. Reginald and Tozawa unfortunately had to learn that the hard way :)

If you got hurt from the boys' opponents, just know they are putting them six feet under. One time Drew accidentally clamored you when you shielded Roman from him, and the twins and solo made sure he couldn't walk on his own two feet and had to be stretched out by medical.

You were a famous figure on social media, so you were constantly annoying one of your brothers or cousin to take pictures of you. They would pretend to be annoyed but actually didn't mind it, especially when you would get invited to a event or premier and would bring them along.

You hate losing, and when it does happen (which is rare) you would shut everyone out, letting yourself wallow. Roman’s disappointment didn't make anything better. So Jey and Jimmy would bring you some food, crack some jokes and wait until you talked. If you didn't talk, they'd bring in Solo and leave the two of you alone. Solo wouldn't even need to say anything, he just hugs you and lets you cry into his chest and release your anger and sadness. After your finished crying, he would wipe your tears and you’d give him a thankful watery smile. He’d smile back at you and take you to get your favorite ice cream :)

All in all, you were the pillar of The Bloodline, the one who was keeping it stable, the one making sure it wouldn't fall apart. And eventually, you knew you would have to destroy it. But right now, you wanted to reap its benefits.