#i need the man in my life and no we are NOT talking about my possible daddy issues

[astonmartinii]

day eight: is it new years yet? | franco colapinto social media au

pairing: franco colapinto x fem albon!reader

christmas day has come and gone and lovers have the agonising wait until new years to reunite (ie complaining a lot)

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

francocolapinto

liked by olliebearman, alexalbon and 828,056 others

tagged: yourusername

francocolapinto: will someone bring my wife back from the war

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user1: i need this kind of man in my life please

user2: i just know he's wearing that shirt completely unironically

user3: i need him to wear it in the paddock please

alexalbon: "the war" being her family's home for christmas

francocolapinto: well yes! why would she want to spend time with YOU when she could spend time with ME

alexalbon: she's not being held hostage she can leave if she wants to

francocolapinto: you're using the pets to your advantage

francocolapinto: DISGUSTING

alexalbon: excuse me?

francocolapinto: free her! and let her bring stan too!

alexalbon: you know what? it's christmas so i won't be entertaining this absolute nonsense

francocolapinto: my love for your sister is not nonsense alex, i am hurt by these accusations

alexalbon: FUCK OFF

user4: oh alex and franco bickering you are so personal to me

user5: i don't know how i'm going to deal with franco not being on the grid next year

yourusername: trust and believe sis, he'll in that paddock no matter what

user6: thank you for your service queen

alexalbon: if you must i guess

yourusername: missing you more baby

francocolapinto: actually not possible

yourusername: you could always come here ...

francocolapinto: and miss out on the sun on christmas?

francocolapinto: and have to hang out with alex ????

alexalbon: i am SICK of you pretending i'm not an absolute hoot

francocolapinto: i'll agree this one time and that's only because you share genetics with y/n so i must assume you must have some of her qualities

alexalbon: what the hell, sure

yourusername

liked by landonorris, francocolapinto and 341,984 others

tagged: alexalbon

yourusername: is it new years yet?

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user9: personally if i had that many cute pets i would not be complaining about going home for christmas

user10: real

albon_pets: that's exactly our points !!

francocolapinto: but not as cute as franco!

user11: did you forget to log into your burner account?

francocolapinto: no i just have a very secure view of myself

yourusername: therapists are AFRAID of him

user12: have we considered they do miss each other but are really on a covert mission to subliminally force us to listen to sabrina carpenter's ep fruitcake

yourusername: it is a banger i will say that

alexalbon: our family are NOT ANNOYING THIS IS A LIE

alexalbon: the song is good tho

landonorris: speaking of sabrina carpenter, do you wanna try out some freaky positions while you're back in england @yourusername ?

francocolapinto: i will tear you limb from limb and then drag you around silverstone attached to my williams like cans from a wedding car

user13: that's so romantic 🥰

landonorris: MURDER IS ROMANTIC?

francocolapinto: stop flirting with my girlfriend or i will invent a crime worse than murder

landonorris: it's a JOKE ????

francocolapinto: i am not laughing.

yourusername: he's so protective hehehehe

landonorris: so you're willing to let franco murder your friend of over TEN YEARS ?

yourusername: he can do no wrong in my eyes

landonorris: ALEX?

alexalbon: firstly, you bought this upon yourself. secondly, franco actually got me a really cool christmas present so he is above you on my friendship pyramid now

francocolapinto: no one can resist franco xx

user14: this comment section is a fucking mess

user15: and i wouldn't change it for the world

francocolapinto: counting down the days xxx

yourusername: i'm so excited i can't stop talking about it

albon_pets: this is true, she's even talking to the cats about it

alexalbon

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 409,302 others

tagged: lilymunhe & yourusername

alexalbon: despite popular belief, my sister does actually love me (or she at least loves the animals)

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user16: they're such a cute lil family

user17: and with the introduction of franco's face card they will be unstoppable

georgerussell63: with the absolutely blasphemous speculation in these comment sections i would like to lodge a formal complaint concerning the fact that i have never been invited to an albon christmas

francocolapinto: not cute enough

georgerussell63: i can go toe to toe with you franco

yourusername: lying is a sin george

georgerussell63: what happened to the y/n i once knew ...

yourusername: listen george if you want the invite you gotta marry in to the family, and since both alex and i are taken it looks like your best bet is one of the cats

georgerussell63: that would be beastiality

yourusername: not my problem

alexalbon: please don't fuck one of my cats george

georgerussell63: SHUT UP !!! i merely wanted some recognition for my importance to the albon family but alas you are all IDIOTS. DID OUR HOMOEROTIC SHARED THROAT INFECTION MEAN NOTHING ALEX

alexalbon: i don't really know what you want me to say here?

user18: george has been off his rocker since qatar i fear

yourusername: it's been much longer than that lol

francocolapinto: she'll never love you more than she loves me

alexalbon: considering you two are in a romantic relationship i would hope so

yourusername: oh girlies we should get this all out now before franco gets here and before we camp out in the williams garage all season

alexalbon: i must ask do you have to be there all season?

yourusername: we're scheming

francocolapinto: james can't resist my puppy dog eyes for that long

yourusername: count your days @carlossainz55

carlossainz55: excuse me ??

francocolapinto: you heard her !!!

carlossainz55: @alexalbon is it going to be like this all season?

yourusername: not if we have anything to do with it

carlossainz55: so just for a few races

francocolapinto: no dipshit we're going to steal your seat

user19: i love when a couple really come together to maxmise their joint slay

francocolapinto

liked by yourusername, olliebearman and 823,019 others

francocolapinto: i hate the time warp between christmas and new years so much what do you mean i actually want to be playing trivial pursuit with alex :(

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user21: why does he have a bunny?

user22: it's best not to ask questions about franco really

user23: i want to know but also i think for my sanity it's best i don't

alexalbon: everyone goes on about the 'franco charm' but really it's all about the alex charisma

francocolapinto: whatever, you can have this one, but know you'll never truly be me

alexalbon: was the half compliment in the caption the yearly compliment for 2024

francocolapinto: yeah so savour it

alexalbon: you're so kind franco

francocolapinto: i know 🫶

alexalbon: i was being sarcastic

francocolapinto: compliment is a compliment

user24: franco is the type to be called pretty dumb and just hear pretty

user25: he wouldn't be wrong

yourusername: i've been holding down the fort while i can but this dumbass has clearly done some reading in his spare time

francocolapinto: no one is as smart as you amor i have no worries

user26: is this game of trivial pursuit lasting days?

landonorris: there is no way you're the trivial pursuit champion ???

yourusername: i've won for the last five years running, why wouldn't i be?

francocolapinto: choose your words carefully lando... i'll be on british soil before you know it

landonorris: why is it just me you're going after the whole twitch gc agree

charles_leclerc: not sure what you're on about here lando

georgerussell63: i've always been impressed by y/n's trivial pursuit skills

alexalbon: i love her so much i let her win

francocolapinto: @landnorris consider this a warning

landonorris: how did i end up with the threats again?

user27: franco does not play omg

yourusername: he's the biggest loverboy eva

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, alexalbon and 603,029 others

tagged: francocolapinto & alexalbon

yourusername: reunited and it feels so good !

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user28: i have never felt jealousy like this

user29: hey siri play that should be me by justin bieber

user30: you're telling me i gotta live and people like y/n get to have an f1 driver brother AND franco colapinto as her new years kiss ???

francocolapinto: longest ten days of my LIFE

yourusername: you can't get rid of me now

francocolapinto: good! i need my fix of y/n :3

francocolapinto: i'm addicted to you

yourusername: you're addicted? they're tryna make me go to rehab

francocolapinto: but i said

yourusername: no

francocolapinto: no !

user31: are these motherfuckers quoting amy winehouse ???

alexalbon: worse, they're actually singing it to each other right now

user32: WHAT? show it to me rachel....

georgerussell63: wait he came to england ????

francocolapinto: yes! you're no longer the hottest f1 driver in the country - i'm so sorry!

georgerussell63: @alexalbon please tell me this little menace is not crashing your festivities?

alexalbon: well technically ... franco is family so he's got more of a right to an invite than you ...

francocolapinto: snooze you lose georgie boy

georgerussell63: you need better taste y/n

yourusername: wanna say that again

alexalbon: oh george ...

georgerussell63: you need better taste y/n

landonorris: oop.

yourusername: I DON'T CARE IF IT'S MEANT TO BE NEW YEAR NEW ME, IF YOU'RE NOT CAREFUL THERE WILL BE NO 2025 FOR YOU RUSSELL

francocolapinto: that's so fucking hot

yourusername: i love you <3

francocolapinto: i love you more

kimiantonelli: do i have a teammate for next year or?

fin.

note: amazing news!!! the vets found that my cat was too healthy to be put down so he lives to slay another day. hope you enjoy this celebratory franco fic, my first for him i think? (can you tell i need to update my masterlist?)

[whambambatfam]

Webs of a Wing

Chapter 1

I am not well versed in DC knowledge. I've read a bunch of the older comics but, honestly, these timelines are too confusing to say I have a firm grasp on what the fuck is happening at any given point.

Anyways, this is my story, I made a tumbler for it. I'll definitely upload again..

When the fly on the wall starts to spin webs of their own, can the bats catch on? Or will they be left to dangle in the web they've tangled?

───── ⋆⋅ 🕸 ⋅⋆ ─────

You're hardly school aged when you wake in a strange place, vague memories of someone patting your head as you fall asleep. Then it was all blurry and you went from cold hard ground, suddenly, to a warm bed worth more than you've ever seen.

Laying still, staring up at the ceiling, you lay dazed until you hear the door starting to creak open. Quickly shutting your eyes you wait for the suspect to peak inside.

When his voice sounds, back on the other side of the door, you perk up, "Who's this? They're kinda cute." A boy, most likely a few years older than you.

When that deep, fear inducing voice reaches for you, you jump out of bed after it. "Apparently, my child." He couldn't possibly be talking about you, right?

You make your way silently to the creaked door. Peeping through to watch them. "Huh? What?? Like seriously???" Hands resting on his hips, a boy of black hair and lean physique gapes.

A tall man with a build as intimidating as his voice, "Yes, I've run a DNA test and everything." His large arms cross over his broad chest.

Mirroring the older man's stance, the boy questions, "So, who's the mom?"

"I'm still working on that.."

"Have you.. asked them?"

There's a heaviness lingering in the hall around them. "We don't know if they'll talk yet, not till they wake up." He doesn't like not having answers, clearly.

"Can they?"

Swinging the door open, you bark out at your own defense, "I knew how'd to talk!"

His shoulder shot up, face blossoming in embarrassment, "Oh, sorry." Sighing, he tries to appear nonchalant. "Well, heyyy.. kid.. My name's Dick.” Placing a hand on your shoulder, he smiles, “Guess I'll be like, your, uh, big brother?"

Eyes widening, you step away from his grasp. Being in a strange place with strange people claiming to be your family was concerning. Even in your young mind, alarm bells rang loud and clear.

Like a light shining through your darkest times, his voice cut through the tension. “This may be all too much for,” A man, much older than either, rests his hand on your back, “the newly young master Wayne.” He ushers you gently back into the room. All gentle pats and kind smiles as he insists on you resting.

You never spoke about who or where you came from. It hurts to try, to think of the cold, the dark, the pain, the fear. Push out all the bad. Make it just go away. You just wanted it to go away. Wanted to take every memory of before and lock it up, never to be found. So, that's what you did, burying every painful memory. After some time, your young mind turned repression into suppression. Now, left with only bits and pieces, you couldn't remember even if you wanted to.

So, you’ll need to fill in the emptiness with this fresh start.

Life in the Wayne house started off joyfully. You found serenity in the solitude of the manor, disconnected from the rest of Gotham. When Alfred wasn't pushing tedious homeschooling work, you explored the massive house you'd be calling home. The quietude of empty ballrooms, winding halls and stodgy gardens was your respite. While it wasn't a place made for children, you felt at peace for the first time. The perfect home for a ghost with plenty of walls for flies and flowers alike.

Coming from unknown origins with no paperwork to speak of left you in a peculiar predicament. As a child was low grasp on the passage of time, you couldn't exactly say how old you were. Let alone when your birth date was. No one has ever bothered to tell you and if they have you certainly weren't going to remember. Infact, at Alfreds insists on a celebration, he comes to find you've never truly experienced a birthday of any kind. He had to correct this at once, give you a proper one with cake, singing and presents. It makes him wonder what sort of childhood you've been plucked from.

“Well, young master.” Alfred takes your hands as you climb the step stool next to him, “It's been a year now since you've joined us at the manor.”

Your hands slap onto the counter when you finally reach it. “Yeah, I like it.” Smiling wide up at the old butler, you babble on, “everything is so big and warm and it smells nice and I like when you cook and I wanna cook too and-” Alfred hushes your ramblings with a hand on your head.

“Yes, that's lovely, my child.” The other hand opens a draw nearby. “And that's what we'll be doing today.”

You tilt your head as the hand on it brushes over it and falls away, “Cooking?” Craning your neck, you try to peek at the cards he flips through.

“Well, baking, but yes.” He confirms, offering you a smile that's warm and sweet like his cookies, “Today was the day you joined the family, it's as good a day as any for a party.”

Your eyes light up, “A party for what?”

“Your birthday, my dear.” He chuckles softly at your look of awe,“Today will be your birthday, and every year I shall make you a cake.”

“Woah, every year?” You gasp as he hafs you the small stack of cards, each a handwritten cake recipe. While you can't read them yet, there are pictures of each cake pasted alongside the words. “That's a lot of cakes.. Can I help?”

“Whichever you like most we'll bake.” You're quick to pick one, waving the card around frantically, “I would be honored to have your help as well, young master.”

Alfred got to work with measurements, letting you pour everything into the bowls. He shows you how to mix, guiding you hand over hand when you struggle. You can't help spilling half of you what you're given, covering the counters. Sliding the pan batter into the oven, Alfred has you assist by wiping away your mess.

As he begins readying ingredients for frosting you ask, “Are those guys gonna join us?”

You're too busy scrubbing batter from your stool to see the way he deflates. “Unfortunately, your father and brother are tied up in something.” He sighs, taking the rag and finishing your job. With a sullen smile he hands you a measuring cup of sugar, “Perhaps next year.”

The night is spent merrily celebrating. When it cools Alfred frosts and decorates your cake. He places a number of candles, It's the first of many birthdays spent with just you and Alfred.

The next years were your first time in true schooling, a prestigious boarding school to boot. You couldn't remember seeing so many other children before. The eyes you received from strangers when given your new last name made your skin crawl. Deciding to forgo it in most encounters. Yet, for some reason to a great number of your fellow classmates, that fact seemed to matter greatly. If you met someone who insisted or withheld their friendship without, then you'd simply roll your eyes, never speaking to them.

You decided friends weren't important, instead making it your goal to not just succeed but to exceed. If this was your shot of a real family, you wanted to show them you were something capable. Worthy. You were hopeful, determined in getting close.

Only to be pushed aside at every opportunity.

“I got’ perfect score!” The words burst from you with such excitement you're bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Bruce doesn't even bother to look at the paper you're frantically waving at him. Simply mumbling as he places his mug in the sink, “Very nice.” Before turning to Dick, “Come on, son. It's time to go.” You thought maybe this was how a father was supposed to be. Cold, distant and hardly ever around for someone so small.

Alfred steps up from behind your slumped form. Plucking the paper from your dejected gaze. He hums softly before you hear a rap on the fridge beside you. “Wonderful job young master.” You smile for him as he pats your head. Happy to have at least someone’s acknowledgement.

From what your classmates say, a big brother will either pick on you or support you. Soon you came to find that living with Dick Grayson didn't guarantee you any of his time. Good or bad.

So, despite the terror that being center stage fills you with, you entered your school's spelling bee. The thought that maybe you could possibly impress them gave you just enough nerve.

“Hey, um, Dickie...” When you catch his sleeve, your teeth skin into your cheeks. He peeks over his shoulder at you, “Here, it's a competition.”

His nose wrinkles slightly before he smiles. “Spelling bee?” Not a real smile, you don't get those. It's a empty, meaningless thing that hardly lifts his lips.

“If you're not busy.” You clasp your fingers together, steeling your nerves.

“Uh, yeah. Maybe.” It’s thinly masked disgust if anything.

Time came to discuss bringing you into the public eye, an official declaration of your relationship with the Wayne's. Just the thought of it was unsettling, like placing a target on your back. The last place you want to be is the spot light.

“I don't wanna go. I won't go.” It was then in that moment, when the words left your lips, you could see it in his eyes.

A wave of relief Dick couldn't quite stifle, lip touching at the corner before turning to Bruce, “Maybe they're just scared of all those new people. With everyone looking at them, seeing them as your..” That uptick in his features falters slightly, “first child, technically.” Back then, you thought he cared. That this was actually for your protection. “It's a lot of pressure, maybe it would be better. For them, to stay safe.”

Bruce crosses his arms, examining his older child before looking back to the younger. “You have a point there, Dick.” You've twisted your fingers into Alfreds pant leg, half hidden behind him. “Fine. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. It might even be for the better.” Neither of them wanted you there, thinly veiled behind words of care, never quit saying it.

Not once then did you realize. There was nothing you could do, nothing you could say, nothing you could show for. Nothing to make them see you, the real you. You couldn't provide them with anything, that made you useless.

“Very well, Master Bruce.” With a sigh, Alfred guides you away as the two leave. He was always the one in your corner. Before you even know this life would be a battle.

This give on the topic began your gradual slope into obscurity. In the hectic years of adolescence, you'd come to the conclusion that private schools are for snobs. You manage to convince the old butler, with baked goods, to allow a change of schools. Not wanting to slow your studies yet overwhelmed by your known family reputation. Public school seemed viable, no one had to know who you really were. There seemed to be no object, or real acknowledgment of this decision.

You used to believe, despite how they act, this was it, this would be your family and you could be happy. Surely, you thought, it's because you're new to them. It must be hard to connect, you found it quite difficult yourself.

So, you decided, you'll just need to put in more effort. Show them that there is something that you and they can do together. You took up everything you Alfred offered to teach you when he was around. You learned to cook, sew and clean the whole manor faster than the master butler himself.

Of course, he had other priorities, not just as your caretaker. Try as he might to keep you at the top of that list, he still has duties to attend. So, you would take your days, even weeks, alone with stride. A good time to build your skills on your own, finding new ways to utilize them. Hoping for something, anything, to bridge the gap with your new family.

“I'll be home late today, Al.” While you had gotten away from uptight private schooling, Alfred still set into a well funded school.

He gives a light chuckle of disbelief over the phone, “You have plans, young master?” Pinching the device between your shoulder and ear, you fumble through your first ever locker.

“It's just a club, I'll still need you to pick me up after.” With all your free time, you thought you'd use more of your growing skills.

“At your service my dear.”

You took time to catch on, years of peeling away from the background. Picking and pulling apart from the inside out, finding something that could peak their interest. Hoping to think twice, even once to turn their heads back to the lone manner.

That's how you found them, their secrets; and the life that pulled them as taunt in one direction as the other did. Digging for a way that you could connect from beyond the twice eye catching lives they live day and night. You were piled with reasoning when you found that special place in the library they all seemed to love. The idea of passing the security felt out of reach at the time.

Walking along the dark water line, looking out to the misty sky. You don't wish for misfortune, but you wait. When that light flickers on and that familiar symbol reflects on the dark Gotham clouds, your breath catches. Ducking alonge the rocky cliff wall by the large alcove, you listen to the rumble. You brace yourself as something in the shallow cave opens, the rumble growing.

Then you have your answer. The Batmobile comes billowing out of the cave, in its wake you hide. Long after its departure from the property, you emerge from your hiding spot. Slipping through the closing doors and wandering down into the bat cave.

Despite how they see through you most times, you're sure Alfred knows when you sneak in. So, appreciating this to be Alfred throwing his hand up and hiding his eyes for your sake.

It's awe inspiring to say the least, especially knowing you live above it every day. It felt like peeking through the lives of strangers and you couldn't look away. You don't know why he kept it from you but you didn't want to be shut out for knowing. Yet, you couldn't satiate your curiosity with just this visit.

You had told Alfred you had a meeting after a club and that you would be home late. For some strange reason he promised Dick would pick you up.

Water splashes up from a speeding tire as you walk along the misty Gotham streets, “Aw man, come on!” Of course Dick didn't show! Why would he? When has he ever?

Now, in this situation, Alfred would wish for you to call him for assistance.

“Over there! Look, look!” Across the intersection a pair gasps and squeals, fingers pointed up at the Boy Wonder. The last thing on his mind as he leapt through the night sky, was an unwanted sister.

If only Alfead could get everything he's ever wished for, but you're not a fairy.

Following gunshot and bangs you skirt around chaos, nearly avoiding an obvious outbreak of costumed thugs. You watch in ired fascination as they beat down each threat thoroughly. As the moon starts to sit lower again and the bad guys are carted away, you realize how long you've been gone.

You arrive at the gates in tune to be blown past by the Batmobile. Inside, Alfred gives you a look as if he knows every secret you've even kept. Thankfully he doesn't say a word, You're out of your damp clothes by the time the dynamic duo ascend to the manor.

For people of the shadows, they never could seem to see you creeping through them.

It's through this that you managed to learn about Barbra Gordon. The commissioner's daughter was someone you could only catch glimpses of from time to time. It was rare for you to catch her attention. Much too preoccupied with her work for the Bat, your father.

The batgirl's skill inspired your own delve into tech. Hacking, coding and even trying your hand at tinkering with new devices. Creations that you've jerry-rigged and hoped against hope that she would even glance at.

She's coming over today, you overheard dick say so. You've poked your head over the banister as you wait to spot the red head. Yet, once she's there, you freeze. Dick and Barbara push through the front doors together. Light rain chasing them inside from the sturing storm. Their foot falls followed by light laughter and easy chitchat. If only it was so easy for you.

You watch as your brother scurries off, promising to grab a towel. This is your shot. “Oh, um!” Words are coming from you before you even know what to say. Stumbling over yourself, you bumble over, haltung in front of her. “B-Barbra?”

“Huh, who?” At the ruckus you've made, she whips around. Head on a swivel 'till green eyes locking on you. “Oh! It's you.. uh..” looking you up and down she stumbles as well.

You have to give her your name, again.

“Right, right. Sorry.” Barbra looks off sheepishly, carting a hand through her hair. Hand flicking droplets from the ginger ringlets.

“It's okay..” that's alright, that's normal Even. You don't see each other all that often.. even though you remembered her name just fine. “I just want to ask you about some-” Unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, she cuts you off before you can pull out what you want to share with her.

“I've actually got to-” Her mouth snaps shut before she thinks better of words, “Well, um, talk with Bruce.” She finishes with an awkward chuckle and mumbled “Y'know how it is. Always something with the Wayne's.”

No, “Yeah..” You didn't know.

You've never shared more than a last name with the Wayne's.

Patting your head she smiles, “Sorry again, hun. Maybe later?” turning away down the hall Dick had disappeared to. Even to the all seeing eye you were nothing but a mere fly on the wall.

Gothams streets were dark, dangerous, and the only place you could see them for more than a minute. You loved nights like this, when you could slip from the manor. Undetected by the inattentive gazes that should have kept a preteen like you home.

With this habit of bird watching, you found yourself looking more into your subpar self defense. Living in Gotham has given you a natural caution but all too often you've wound up in tight situations. All because you couldn't keep your eyes off them. Maybe if you show them you could do that, fight back, they might see you.

You put yourself out there over and over, “Uh, d-dad?” Alfred insisted you call him that, but it never felt right, “I've been doing, um, I have this..” taking a breath you force it out, “It's martial arts, could you come see me?”

Another paper half glance at before the typical, “I'll see what I can do.”

Apparently, there are some things even Batman can't do.

“H-hey.. I, uh, am doing..” You pull out the flier for your competition. inspecting it over before looking to see him. Half-heartedly glancing up from his comic, Dick gives you a once over before continuing to read, “Gymnastics.”

Finally his eyes hold yours when the word shoots from your mouth. For a second you think this is it. This is when you’ll finally have his attention. Finally make that long awaited connection with your big brother. “I'll see, why don't you ask Bruce?” Dick lays the paper on the living room table in front of him.

“I did... he said the same thing.”

The paper is still there when you come back later.

[zorosangell]

hiii! hope you’re doing good and I’d like to give in a suggestion, could you make a fic about gnreader being choppers mother figure and both zoro and reader are fighting for the parental role 😭😭

(they later on share it lol)

⛥ﾟ・。 endgame

synopsis: prequel to inn -- when chopper asks about your past, zoro reminisces on your history together... and is reminded of exactly what you are to him.

cw: THIS IS A PREQUEL TO INN, fluffly fluff, comfort, takes place pre-timeskip during alabasta, young reader is so cute, protective zoro, ZORO IS WHIPPED, i really loved writing this.

a/n: i really, really loved writing this

"Hey, Zoro!" Luffy called, eagerly. "Look over here! Look at what we're doing!"

"We're training!" Usopp added, clapping his hands together.

Begrudgingly, Zoro looked up from Chopper's fur, glancing toward the boys, who were standing under a huge stream of water like it was a ninja's waterfall.

"Real funny," he nodded, sarcastically, before returning to what he was doing.

After saving the kingdom of Alabasta, the king invited the crew to the royal bath, hoping to clean up after dinner.

The young doctor had asked for help washing his back, and the swordsman played it off as having nothing better to do.

But, in actuality... he enjoyed helping boy, feeling a sort of fatherly obligation toward him.

"Zoro?" Chopper piped up, quietly, eyes trained forward as the man went back to carefully scrubbing his fur.

"Yeah?" Zoro hummed. "What is it?"

"Do you know why (y/n) acts the way she does?"

Confused, Zoro raised a brow, unsure of what he was talking about.

"What do you mean?"

"Well... you know," the boy slightly stammered. "She's so nice... and kind... she cares for me so well even though I just joined the crew."

He looked down at himself, making sure to choose his words carefully.

"Even Doctorine didn't warm up to me this quick... but she treats me like she's known me all her life. And I figured since you two grew up together, you could tell me why."

'So, that's it...'

Zoro nodded, finally getting the picture.

"I see what you mean," he confirmed, moving on to the boy's shoulder. "(y/n)'s always been like that... even when we were kids. There's no rhyme or reason to it."

He glanced up, the memories rolling back like calm waves after a storm.

"She just... is."

"I thought I told you to stop following me! Cut it out!" a ten year-old Zoro exclaimed, glaring at you sharply.

"But... you're bleeding..." a nine year-old you reminded, worried, as you tightly clutched the handle of your first aid kit. "Kuina beat you up really bad this time."

"Shut up!" he barked. "I don't need your help! Or anyone else's! I'm gonna get stronger all on my own!"

You flinched at his tone, but held strong, despite the tears welling in your eyes.

"Well, you can't be the strongest if you can barely lift your arms!"

Zoro's eyes widened, surprised.

In your months of chasing him, attempting to patch him up, you had never raised your voice.

Not even once.

"I believe in you! And I wanna help you! So let's make a deal!"

Brows furrowed with determination, you pointed at him, firm in your disposition.

"Every night, I'll patch you up, and help you out with normal stuff, like food and clothes! And in return, you work your hardest to become the strong enough to beat Kuina! Sound fair?"

"No!" he scoffed, incredulously, and incredibly confused. "Why are you doing this?! You don't even know me! What do you get out of that?!"

"I get to watch you!" you grinned, jumping at the chance to gush. "You're so cool! And tough! I'm no good at sword-fighting, but you're amazing at it! I can tell you're gonna be a really great swordsman someday!"

Happily, you looked up at him, your starry eyes bringing a faint tinge of pink to the boy's cheeks.

"And I wanna be there to watch the whole thing!"

For a moment, Zoro paused to think, weighing his options before caving with a sigh, unable to say no to your hopeful smile.

"...Fine."

"YAY!"

Without hesitation, you pulled him into an embrace, overwhelmed with joy.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! No hugging!"

Zoro chuckled, moving the scrub brush to the young doctor's head.

You were the strangest, most persistent girl he had ever met... but the only one that believed in him from the very beginning.

Even if it was at your expense.

"What were you thinking?!" a twelve year-old Zoro scolded, haphazardly applying band-aids to all your cuts and bruises. "You know Haru and Kenzo are stronger than you. Why'd you try to fight them?"

An eleven year-old you sniffled, using the back of your hand to wipe away the stray tears rolling down your cheeks.

"They were making fun of you," you mumbled, looking down at your lap. "They said three-sword style was stupid, so I tried to punch them... but I missed and they ganged up on me."

"Did they, now?" Zoro glared, turning to the two boys next to him.

Quickly, he struck them both in the back of the head, giving them two giant welts and adding to their multitude of injuries.

"What do you two say to her?!"

"We'wre sowwy..."

Chopper lit up, relieved to her you had no ulterior motive in your kindness.

"(y/n)'s been this nice all her life? Wow! I wish I met her sooner! She sounds like a really great friend!"

Zoro nodded, fighting off the small smile threatening to rise to his lips.

"I was lucky to meet her when I did... her enthusiasm always gave me something to look forward to."

He sighed, dreamily reminiscing on the thought.

"Even when the future was unclear..."

"I can't believe it! We're actually leaving!" an eighteen year-old you squealed, watching the island of Shimotsuki get smaller and smaller as you clung to the mast of your small fishing boat. "This is so exciting!"

"I know," a nineteen year-old Zoro agreed, watching with an air of pride. "Feels like a new chapter. One step closer to becoming the strongest."

You nodded along, until you were suddenly hit with a thought, which forced you to sit down.

"But... I can't help but wonder," you started, glancing up at him. "Why'd you bring me along?"

He raised a brow, confused, and silently asking you to elaborate.

"You know I'm not very strong. Hell, I can barely throw a punch," you reminded. "I won't be much of a help..."

"All those years ago... didn't you say you wanted to watch me become the Greatest Swordsman in the world?" Zoro asked, rhetorically. "You can't do that cooped up in a dojo."

Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting such a straight-forward answer.

"I promised you I'd work hard to become the strongest. So you better believe you're getting a front row seat," he smirked, plopping himself down next to you, slightly rocking the boat. "You're stuck with me, (y/n). There's no backin' out now."

You replied with a chuckle, carefully resting your head on his shoulder, blissfully unaware of the flush on his cheeks.

"Thanks, Zo'."

He nodded, slowly and warily looping an arm around your shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief when you didn't move away.

"Don't mention it."

"Wow! I'm so happy!" Chopper cheered, jumping up from his seat. "I'm gonna go dry off and give her a big hug to say thank you for all the stuff she's done!"

Quickly, he turned to Zoro, his blinding smile warming the swordsman's heart—though he'd never admit it.

"Thanks for telling me Zoro!"

Without a word, Zoro nodded, and Chopper zoomed off back to the rooms, leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

Glancing at the divider separating the men and women's bath, Zoro listened closely, tuning out Luffy and Usopp's roughhousing to see if he could hear you.

And he did.

From beyond the great wall flowed in your silvery laugh, the delightful sound hitting his ears like the world's greatest song.

Closing his eyes, the swordsman rested his arm on his knee, and his cheek in his palm, allowing himself to fully experience its beauty.

God, he was so in love with you...

Words couldn't even begin to express.

You were the most consistent thing in his life.

His personal nurse.

His number one supporter.

His best friend.

His childhood crush.

If he was being honest, he didn't know where would've ended up if it weren't for you, or the person he would've turned out to be.

You taught him the value of kindness and compassion at such a young age, and were never afraid to wear your heart on your cheek if it meant pushing him closer to his dream.

And you knew him so well.

He couldn't have found a better partner in crime if he'd searched for a thousand years.

Muscles relaxing, a small smile rose to his lips as your laugh floated into the air once again, accentuated by the occasional, adorable snort.

There was no one else in this world for him.

There would be no one else in this world for him.

You were absolutely, positively, without a doubt... his endgame.

[lunajay33]

Suppose to be You

•🖤🍑🏹🧟‍♀️•

Summary: You’re Shane’s girlfriend but when the apocalypse hits you find him changing and find yourself leaning more towards the only person who gives you the time of day, also you’re Rick’s younger sister

Pairing: Shane x f!reader, Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: Shane’s a cheater obvi, harsh words, Merle

•Masterlist•

I first met Shane when my older brother Rick first started bringing him around the house, I never thought much of him but as we got older he started flirting and we only started dating when I turned 22, about a year ago, it’s been fun but then I lost my brother and then the world got taken over by walkers and that leads to now, camped out in a quarry on the outskirts of Atlanta

We took my sister in law, Lori and my nephew with us but after being here for a while Shane’s been treating me differently, like I’m just a burden to him

Sitting around the fire I’m sat across from Shane as he’s right next to Lori, I understand him wanting to console her her husband died, but he was my brother and I’m Shane’s girlfriend I just thought he’d try to console me even just a little

“You alright sweetie?” Dale asks from next to me

“Oh I’m fine thanks for asking though” I smile trying to brush it off but inside I’m hurting deeply like I’m loosing everything

“I think I’m just gonna head to bed early” I say standing up to leave, all Shane did was glance at me before his eyes went back to the fire, Carl got up and gave me a quick hug

“Night auntie y/n” he smiles, he’s always been the sweetest kid

“Night honey” I walk away as the cool of the night started to envelope me, instead of going back to the tent I went down to the quarry shore, I knew how to take care of myself around walkers I just need to be alone

I sat down feeling all the pressure weighing down on my chest, I lost my brother, then the world ends and now my boyfriend treats me like garbage, what else do I have…….whats the point

Finally letting the tears fall I let it all out before I hear branched snapping behind me, I turn nervously wiping the tears away sighing in relief when I realize it’s just Daryl Dixon, thankfully not accompanied by his ass of a brother Merle

“What’re ya doin down here alone” he asks his eyes squinted at me but for some reason he didn’t make me nervous

“Ummm just needed to get away, what’re you doing down here?”

“Just came back from a hunt saw ya down here……wanted ta check on ya”

My heart skipped a beat, something I haven’t felt in a long time now

“Come on let’s get ya ta bed” he huffed motioning back towards the path, it was a silent walk up to the camp but it was a comfortable silence

I got to mine and Shane’s tent when I hear his fast heavy footsteps heading our way

“The hell are you doing alone with Daryl Dixon” he groans gripping my arm and roughly pulling me away from Daryl

“Shane that hurts, he was just keeping me company” I look back at Daryl and I swear if looks could kill Shane would definitely be dead on the ground

“Get lost Dixon, go back to your dick of a brother” Daryl’s eyes landed on mine and I could see them soften before he left, the further the got the more I wanted to run to him instead of being near the person I should be safe with

“The hell were you thinking”

“Like you’d care” I sigh looking down to the ground

“What’re you talking about you’re my girlfriend of course I care”

“I can’t do this right now Shane I just wanna go to bed, I think I’m gonna stay with Carl tonight, Lori can stay with you bet she’ll love that” I brush him off and walk past him to the smaller tent Carl and Lori stayed in, thankfully they were still out so I could just finally have a moment of peace

How could I feel more peace and safety around a redneck man that I barely know, than my boyfriend I’ve known almost my whole life

I quickly drifted off to sleep welcoming the darkness

•

I woke up early the next morning to the subtle chirping of birds, I quietly left the tent trying not to wake up a still sleeping Carl

Looking around there wasn’t anyone up yet so I went at sat at the camp fire that still had some embers burning

“Hey, what’re ya doing up so early” I hear next to me seeing it’s Daryl again, usually he’d have a snippy attitude with the others in the camp but lately he’s been nice to me and I honestly didn’t care why I just needed someone to cheer me up

“Just couldn’t sleep much I guess, I’ve got a lot on my mind” I say poking at the fire

“Here” he grunted handing me a granola bar he must’ve gotten from his stash

“Thanks”

Then he was gone dissapearing through the thick tree line most likely going for a hunt again

Slowly people started to filter out of their tents and start getting ready for the day, I see Shane making his way towards me with his typical scowl that he never use to use towards me, I look away and turn my back to him

“Have you calmed down since last night” I scoff looking up at him as he towered over me trying to scare me asserting his dominance

“Just leave me alone, you only act like I matter when someone else is giving me attention, tell me do you even love me anymore?” He paused for a moment before answering

“Of course you just gotta stop being selfish I’m trying to console a grieving widow”

“Yeah well he was my brother Shane, did you forget that, just get away from me” I brush past him going towards the trees for some peace and quiet but when I’m deeper in the woods I feel him behind me squeezing my shoulder and he pushes me against a tree

“Shane what are you doing let me go”

“You better watch your mouth don’t forget who saved you when all this started” now he’s trying to guilt trip me

“I could’ve made it on my own, I probably would’ve been happier alone” he raised his hand before a bow zipped between us landing on the tree next to us

“You touch her like that again don’t think I would beat your ass down” Daryl growled coming closer taking my hand and putting me behind him as he stared down Shane

“You think you could take me Dixon, you may be a filthy redneck but don’t think I won’t take YOU”

“Shane just go away, why don’t you go check on poor Lori” I say holding onto Daryl’s arm tighter out of fear, a fear I’ve never felt around Shane before

He huffed before tromping off back towards the camp, when he was far enough away I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding as I let all the emotions flood me

“God Daryl I’m so sorry to get you mixed in this, I don’t…..I don’t know why he’s like this, he never us to treat me like this and I’m…..I’m scared to be around him now” he takes both my shoulders in his hands and makes me face him gently

“It ain’t yer fault peach, I’ve been around my share of angry men and he’s a ticking time bomb, ya can’t be stay around him”

“If you can’t tell I don’t have no where else to go” my chest felt like it had a thousand bricks on it

“Ya can stay next ta me, we got an extra tent”

“Are you sure, what about Merle won’t he be mad”

“I can deal with that grump, come on let’s get ya settled” I’ve never heard Daryl speak so much but I can’t complain he’s like my saviour right now

•

We got the little tent sat up next to him that was a bit further away from the others but I didn’t care much, the further I am from Shane the better

“Thanks for all this Daryl” I say as we both finally settle down around the fire he sat up since night was falling

“Look at this, my lil bro got himself some tail” Daryl was cut of before he could speak by Merle’s grating voice as he plopped down across from us at the fire

“Merle give it up”

“She staying here now, good ta know we got some action right next door” he grins that sends unsettling chills down my spine

“I’m not doing that Merle for the thousandth time, I just needed some space”

“Finally figured out yer cop boyfriend is cheatin on ya?” My heart stopped, suddenly everything made sense, why he always stayed with Lori, why they’d both dissapear at the same time, why Lori could barely look me in the eyes

“Oh my god I feel so stupid how did I not notice I must look so pathetic to everyone” I groan as I drop my head in my hands

“He dont deserve ya, he’s the pathetic one” Daryl said softly as I heard Merle’s steps retreating into his tent, Daryl must’ve shooed him off

“You know why my brother first got shot I was a mess, couldn’t leave his side I was always so filled with anxiety I was basically wasting away but one day Shane convinced me to take a day to myself so I did, I went home and cleaned up and everything, the next thing I know Shane is busting in dragging me to the truck telling me everyone is dropping like flies and my brothers dead, then suddenly he treats me like a piece of trash, only Lori mattered, and…..he almost hit me today, that’s not the man I knew something’s wrong with him, sure he’s always been a bit hot tempered but this is different and all I can think about is……what is he comes after me again but no one’s there to help me” I sigh finally letting everything off my chest

“Ya ain’t goin no where alone anymore, I’ll protect ya” he said gently placing a hand on my back for a moment before it was gone again

“I can’t ask that of you, I’m not your problem”

“Believe it or not, yer the only person in this camp that doesn’t drive me up the wall, I’d like ta keep ya around a lil longer” he smiled as his words cheered me up a bit, I’ve never seen him genuinely smile and it’s making me feel all light headed

“Let’s head to bed……it’s been a long day” I stand up heading to my little tent as he did his next to mine

“Night D”

“Night Peach” his gaze stayed on me for a moment longer before he entered his tent, only making me think what life would be like if I had met Daryl first maybe I’d me happier

•

Part.2<-

[two-white-butterflies]

gave you all my best me's (i)

Description: Aemond needs a fake-girlfriend. It's a good thing that he has leverage over his nephew's ex-girlfriend.

Pairing: (past! jacaerys velaryon/reader), aemond targaryen/reader

Notes: I wanted to rewrite this fanfic before writing a bonus chapter. I'm not a big fan of the old version of this: you're losing me. TWO PARTS SO COMMENT TO GET TAGGED.

It is a beautiful thing to be admired for your talents, but when the media begins digging into your personal life - it is difficult to decipher where one draws a line. "When are you getting married?" The late-night host asks.

You answer him with an awkward chuckle.

Despite your social media branding - you longed for marriage, a white picket fence, and children. "There's so much more to life than getting married," you pursed your lips into a thin line. You could already see yourself in tomorrow morning's tabloids - trending on Twitter AND Tiktok with a witty hashtag.

"I agree, but for other people, it's a milestone moment for them. Is it not in your plans to get married in the future? Or is it an if it happens, it happens kind of thing?" The man continues to inquire.

You forced a smile on your face.

You did want to get married, but it's not in Jace's plans. He's the type of man who goes from hotel to hotel - the type of man who doesn't have his own apartment because he likes to act like a cowboy. Jace is the type of man who'd wear speedos with Birkenstocks. He does not ever see himself getting married, but he sees himself staying with you forever.

"I, unfortunately, don't see myself getting married. I mean respect for the people who are married, but for me, it's not really a necessity because I already see myself staying with this one person my entire life, and for me, I don't feel the need to get married." You explained, echoing the words that Jace whispered to you last night.

"- but yeah, if it happens, it happens." You rolled your eyes.

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You placed your Le Smoking YSL Jacket loudly on the table, hoping that Jacaerys would take a hint and know that you've finally arrived. It has already been three-weeks after the viral interview, and he didn't seem bothered by the attention.

"I missed you," you smiled at him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He always smells like vanilla. "- did you watch the interview?" You asked, pulling away from the embrace. He returns back to typing on his 3-year-old Macbook. "I watched it," he confirms.

You took a deep breath, which probably means that his family has already watched it. "I'm sorry my PR manager forgot to warn me. I seriously felt like a deer caught in headlights," you complained, pausing to see if he was mad.

Jacaerys is the oldest son of Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen. He is the scion of the two oldest families in America. His great-great-great something on both sides came to this country on the Mayflower - and thus, they took extreme precautions when it came to safeguarding their privacy. Rhaenyra was already adamant about allowing her son to write his little books, and now that you were in the picture...

"It's fine, I hope they stop asking about that marriage thing." A sigh escapes his mouth, and you can hear him clacking on his keyboard - typing without an end. "Maybe it's a sign for us to talk seriously about the topic." You begin.

"Marriage is for people-pleasers. We spend a lot of money on this one celebration where everyone gets to eat and dance, but marriage doesn't mean being with someone forever." He articulates, unable to say, that he doesn't want to repeat his parents' mistakes and that he doesn't want to live in a bickering home.

"I want to get married," you blurted out.

He responds with silence. It is obvious that he is thinking of an appropriate response - but you know that the answer is no. "I have everything that I could ever want in the world, a perfect career, a perfect boyfriend, a perfect house. The only things that I want now are marriage and babies, Jace." You continued to explain, and his face dropped to the floor.

You reach for his hands, entwining them with yours. He gazes up from his laptop, and he stares right into your eyes. "We're not going to be like your parents." You promised.

"We aren't a hundred percent sure of that. I can't even promise you everlasting love, I can't even promise you that I can love you with the same strength every day." He tilts his head. Which leads you to believe that the only reason he hasn't married you yet - is because he doesn't love you at all.

"I know, but you choose me every day. You choose us every day, and that is the same thing as love." You persuaded.

You could sense the reluctance in his movements. "We're fighting all the time. I haven't seen you in almost a month. Getting married is not going to fix our problems." His voice softens. He loves you with all of his heart, but he doesn't know how to show that love without first ruining it.

"Let's break up," he proposed.

He was expecting you to say no, like all the other times before, but this time - you retreat silently. You grab your things and you leave his hotel room.

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archiebald22: OMG WHY?? DIDN'T SHE JUST HAVE AN INTERVIEW WITH JIMMY FALLON 😭

pussydaposi: This is my roman empire

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(ONE YEAR LATER)

nameofficial: I Love You, I'm Sorry OUT NOW!

liked 1,293,012 others

>comments

sacramentoLove: When are you gonna pay ur taxes 🇪🇸

Destination12: Shakira x Y/N Collab cuz they both don't pay taxes to the Spanish government

oompaloompa: Y/N singing bella ciao link in bio 😭

comments have been restricted

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"Who's the guy?" You whispered in Lucie's ears, and she turned around to look at the man who had been staring at you for the past five minutes. "Holy fuck, that's Aemond Targaryen. His family literally owns half of Texas." She whisper-shouted.

It didn't help with the fact that the man was smoking hot. Lucie stares at her phone for half a minute. "Wait, can I leave alone for just a second? Cecil forgot to bring his polo, and the receptionist is not letting him in." She groaned. "I'll be fine," you gave her a slight smile.

Lucie leaves your side, and Aemond begins walking towards you. "(Your Name)," you introduced yourself with a smile. "Aemond Targaryen," he shakes your hand.

This could be the beginning of something new...something different. "You don't look like the type of person who'd spend her weekends in old country clubs," he smiles charmingly. "I came here with my friend, Lucie. She's supposed to have a date with this guy, but he seems to have forgotten the rule of the country club." You chuckled.

Aemond tilts his head softly, and he whispers. "Always wear a shirt with a collar." He laughs.

"It's such a preposterous rule, I bet you that I'll have to hear about her boyfriend's expensive suit and how it is preposterous that he wasn't allowed inside." You giggled.

"I bet you that the staff doesn't get paid enough to deal with people like them," he led you to another part of the gardens. This part was exclusive only to esteemed members of the club, which probably means that this Aemond fellow is important. "I heard that a beautiful singer was going to be here. I had to my brother's golfcart to make it in the Clubhouse in time," his eyes narrowed.

Of course, the people that he heard those sentiments from weren't exactly appreciative of your presence. It was one of his mother's cousins who said something about these idiotic celebrities eating in the place where they were eating. "Oh please, you don't need to sugarcoat their words. I bet you that Lucie is scandalized for bringing me," you snorted.

You hate spending time around these old money folks. In your eyes, they've spent the majority of their wealth, and the only thing that they have left is their snootyness. "They're all idiots anyways," Aemond rolls his eyes, pleased that you weren't one of those cunts who'd kiss ass to the wealthy.

His phone rings, and he reaches for the call card inside of his wallet. "I'd love to take you out on dinner sometimes, not here, but you choose where to eat. Please call me as soon as possible," he placed a hand on your shoulder.

He bids farewell, realizing that his business partners were calling him already.

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It was a surprise to see that Aemond had a follow-through; the next day, he had already arranged a dinner with you. "I honestly had no idea where you'd want to eat. I mean, I'm sorry for bringing you to this small diner." You chuckled.

Rich people can be so banal sometimes, they eat at the same five restaurants, they wear the same clothes from the same five ateliers, and they all go to the same yoga studio, for goodness sake. You knew that if you wanted Aemond to consider you worthy of his attention - you needed to stick out. Which leads you to this diner, the real heart of NYC.

"It's beautiful. I've never been here before." He looks around with an appreciative smile. "I used to eat here a lot when I was a college student, I couldn't afford anything else - and the food here seriously tastes better than some Michelin restaurants. It's nice here, it feels so ... raw." You struggled to find the words.

The food was amazing, but the community that this diner constantly fed - it's a thing for the books. The cab drivers, the hotdog stand sellers, and the college students. It is home. "It must be hard being famous," he shoves a piece of pizza inside of his mouth.

You licked your lips.

"I've been famous for as long as I can remember. I don't know how to live without all of the cameras." You pierced the pancake with your fork, bringing it to your mouth. "I need your help." He places both of his hands on the table.

"Where?" Your eyebrows merged together.

"My father is dying. He says that he'll leave his entire inheritance to the first person who gets married in our family. My siblings and my nephews are fighting for that spot, seeing that my older sister doesn't want any ties with us. Now, I know that there are cases against you by the Spanish government, and I can make all of that go away," Aemond offers.

"I'd love to help you but I'm really good at making mistakes," your eyes narrowed, weighting in your choices.

His eyes softened.

"The only mistake that you've made is allowing your father to control your finances. He's in jail now, and if you're not going to fix yourself, you're going to end up there too." He says.

You play with the rings on your finger, inhaling the scent of maple syrup. "So, I marry you, and you clear up all my charges?" You inquired.

"I fake our marriage, clear up your name, and give you $10 million to start again." He corrects.

"Alright then," you hummed. "Do we have a deal?" You smile.

He shakes your hand.

"We have a deal," he confirms.

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Being in a pretend relationship with Aemond was honestly one of the easiest things that you've ever done. He makes it really hard not to fall in love with him. The way that he places his hands inside of his pockets, the way that he gives you the sweetest smile - it almost makes you think that his feelings are genuine. It is not, you remind yourself.

You flick through the rack of dresses in front of you. "What are your parents like? Are they traditional, or are they as laid back as you?" You questioned. He pauses for a while, trying to find the words that would properly describe his parents.

"My dad is a traditional man. He likes guns, and he believes in the Second Amendment. He's a senile old man. My mother, however, is trendy, and she's warm up to you." He informs.

"Tell me more about your family," you pressed.

You needed to be prepared for this battle.

"My older brother is an armchair socialist. He's always complaining to our mother about some animals dying. He's a vegetarian, although he always orders Chipotle on Fridays. His morality is a grey compass," Aemond snorts.

You giggle too.

"Helaena, my older sister. She's my second older sister. I think she's the person that Aegon thinks he is. She's too busy running this non-profit for refugees, but you don't need to worry about her, she's kind." He comforts.

"Then, I have a little brother, Daeron. He doesn't like us. He'd much rather spend time with our uncle." He turns to look away. Your eyes land on the vintage white dress you've seen in Lucie's wardrobe, it's a dress that Chanel never showed the general populace. An iconic piece, but not famous enough that it would seem tacky.

His hands snake around your waist. "What?" Your eyebrows merged together, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, subtly pointing at the paparazzi that were standing outside of the boutique door. "Kiss me," he says, pulling your body closer - until you could smell his cologne.

"You are so demanding," you teased, reaching to cup his cheeks. Standing on your tiptoes as you pressed your lips together. The paparazzi outside of the door were caught in a frenzy, flashing lights of all colors greeted you.

He tastes like cherries and diet coke. It's intoxicating. A taste that is so different on your tongue. You pull away from the kiss - and he pretends to gasp at the sight of the paps outside of the door. "Let's go," he mouthed - pulling you into a deeper part of the store, where the media couldn't see.

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ynkittens: (fan sent the picture) Y/N L/N with mystery man in NYC. Who is this man???

liked by 92,239 others

>comments

DoodleCop: OH MY GOD I miss her and Jace 🥺

YNNationSupport9: Stop, you're losing me

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Aemond stares at his phone, an indescribable frown on his face as it continues to vibrate due to the number of notifications sent to his personal account. "I didn't expect your fans to be this crazy," he mumbled, seeing his face shared all around Instagram.

"You did tell me that our relationship needed to be public to be believable," your eyes narrowed. "Yeah but now they're calling my personal number," he shows you his phone.

An amused chuckle exits your mouth.

"If you can't handle the smoke, don't start the fire." You shoved a piece of pastry inside of your mouth. Aemond slumps on the blue cloud couch and turns his phone off. He has been staying in your apartment for the past month now, after the whole scenario with the paparazzi the studio apartment that he was renting was no longer safe.

"Helaena has been blasting my other phone since yesterday. She's a really big fan of you," he smiles, pulling you closer to him until you are laying on his lap. "She sounds amazing, when are we going to meet?" You inquired, reaching for a book on the coffee table.

His fingers comb through your hair, untangling the knots that your hairbrush couldn't fix. "Maybe tomorrow during the family reunion? She kind of just shows up," he says.

He couldn't deny your beauty. As time grows, he slowly finds himself loving everything about you...from your gentleness to your fickle mindedness. You weren't satisfied with making a decision without first looking at every possible perspective. When someone does a bad deed, you say well, maybe it isn't their fault, maybe it's the way that society has treated them.

Even when the situation proves to be difficult, you still choose to be kind. It's just a summer thing, he tells himself because nothing beautiful ever chooses him. All the good things wilt in his hands.

He flicks a strand of your hair away from your face. "I'm a little nervous about tomorrow," you admit. "- I've never felt like I belonged, you know what I mean?" You scrunched up your nose, and he continued to massage your scalp.

"I'm so hesitant when it comes to attending these parties because when I was a kid, my dad took us to one of his black tie parties, and my mom let me wear this beautiful unicorn dress, but apparently, the black-tie rule was for everyone, regardless of age. The host didn't want me to go inside the halls with my pink glittery dress because it didn't reach past my ankles...one of my cousins pitied me so much. She let me borrow her dress, but it was too big on me." You flinched at the faint memory.

"I had to sit beside my mom the entire time, and all of the kids were staring at me like I had a third leg." Your teeth burrowed into your lower lips. "That sounds horrible," he frowns. "Which is why I promised to never look unfashionable ever again..." You say.

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nameofficial: our secret moments, in a crowded room. @aemondtargaryensapphires

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MaybeThisTime3: Rue, when was this?

aemondtargaryensapphires: ❤️‍🔥👸🏻 - nameofficial: ❤️

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Lucerys stuffs a large amount of vanilla ice cream inside of his mouth. "Did you check Instagram?" He teases his brother, continuing to play on his Nintendo Switch - almost smearing an entire spoonful of vanilla on the screen.

"Can you stop being annoying for five seconds?" Jacaerys rolled his eyes.

"He is so bothered," Joffrey giggled while scrolling on his phone. "I am not bothered," Jacaerys gritted his teeth.

"He's not bothered, but he's turning red!" Lucerys piped in once again. "I wonder if he'll take her to the reunion." Joffrey ponders, and a sigh escapes the oldest brother's mouth. Give you my wild. Give you a child. Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other. Now, the only thing he's answered with is a different type of silence.

It's neither of your fault that the relationship ended. It was just too much of a chasm, your personalities were too different. You were the type of person to fight for the relationship, the type of person who disobeyed fate, and he is the opposite of that.

Because if something is meant to be, then the whole universe conspires for you to have it by your side. If it is meant to be - you wouldn't need to fight for it.

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You were wearing a white-satin dress that reached past your knees, it was embroidered with Swarovski crystals, truly a miracle that the dress ever held up. "Remember the story, I proposed on the beach, we didn't bring any cameras." He whispered, and you could sense his nervousness.

The car continues to drive inside a long entryway that curves to the side, you are greeted with tall bushes that cover the facade of the mansion. As you reach the third turn, the beautiful mansion is made known to you.

It was truly a sight to behold.

A mixture of French and Italian architecture was made even richer by the aged bricks that were used in constructing the estate. The mansion was about the same size as Central Park. It was clear that Aemond Targaryen was richer than God.

"You said family reunion," your lips pursed into a thin line. He gives you a stare, telling you that he didn't expect this many guests either. "My father must've invited his golfing buddies," he explains, regaining his composure.

He reaches for a box inside of his pockets. He opens it, showing you a beautiful emerald oval ring, a ring that is simple and elegant - a ring like you. "Are you ready to meet the vipers?" He smirks, placing the ring on your ring finger.

A doorman begins to open the doors to the car.

"If we wait until I'm ready, we'll be waiting forever." You plastered a smile on your face, straightening your posture, and exiting the car - making sure that everyone's eyes were on you.

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Jace freezes as he sees the faint silhouette of your body. His relationship with you ended on good terms; he was happy with the outcome, but seeing you a year later - brings him back to pleasant and unpleasant memories. He partly wishes that he was stupid enough to his ex-girlfriend, but he is smarter than that.

He knows that the only time that he was ever truly happy was when he was with you, and now you've left him. Now, the only thing that brings him back to those pleasant memories are the songs that you've written about him.

What a horrible day to be alive.

His jaw clenches, watching as his uncle's hands snake around your waist, the very same waist that his hand used to fit like a perfect puzzle in. He watches as Aemond leans to whisper something in your ear, and you giggle. He bets that the joke isn't funny at all.

"Isn't that (Your Name)?" Rhaenyra inquires, and suddenly, Jacaerys' hand feels clammy around the champagne flute. He desperately wants to puke. Rhaenyra's eyes softened instantly, heart heaving for her oldest son. "Oh Jace," she cooed and he forced a smile on his face - he took a lazy sip of his champagne, and the drink bubbles in his stomach.

"I'm alright, mom." He insists.

Jace still cannot understand why his heart longs for you. He has everything he wants - he has everything that you prevented him from achieving because you dreamed of marriage. Why is he missing the shackles that he allowed destiny to remove?

Aemond begins to march in his direction, a satisfied grin on the other man's face. Could he have known? Jace asks himself. "Jacey," the man teased, one hand wrapped around you, and the other hand on a glass of merlot. Aemond was absolutely glowing.

"Uncle Aemond," Jace answered.

"Have you met this lovely lady?" Aemond tilted his head, half-expecting you to smile warmly at his nephew, as you have done to all of his relatives, but he was greeted with silence. Your eyes trailed back and forth between Aemond and his nephew. "Uncle?" your eyebrows merged together.

"I'm too young to be an uncle. My sister had him early." He informs. "I didn't expect you to be here," Jace says plainly as if Aemond was not standing right beside you. "I could say the same thing," you replied, your grip on Aemond tightens.

Something shimmery on your fingers catches Jacaerys' eyes. An engagement ring. An oval emerald engagement ring - like the color that the other side of his family proudly wore. "Congratulations on the engagement," he greets, forcing himself to be happy. Marriage is the only thing that you didn't agree on with him - he found it useless, you found it monumental.

"Thank you," you and Aemond say in unison.

"When she's the one wrapped around your fingers, you have to make a fist." Aemond stares at your face. Jace could only hum in return, his throat felt dry again. "I know the feeling," he takes a sip of his champagne.

He curses himself for still having these feelings for you. He should have fought against the world to have you beside him. He should have taken you dancing, bowling, skating, singing - but he didn't, because he was too engrossed in his own little world, unaware that everything was unfolding outside of his bedroom window.

He takes another deep breath, the world is bigger than the stories inside of his laptop. He can't believe that it has taken him this long to figure that out.

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"Can you please sing something?" Helaena requests, flashing you her puppy eyes. You turned to look around you, and everyone was looking in your direction. Viserys raises an eyebrow as if asking for you to sing.

Daeron hands you one of his acoustic guitars.

"Do you have any song in mind?" You inquired, prepared to sing one of your love songs. "How did it end!" Helaena cheers, pulling Morghul (her dog) on her lap.

"That's a nice song that you've chosen," you forced a smile on your face. Of course, she chooses the one song about your breakup with Jace.

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aemondtargaryensapphires: beautiful ❤️

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helaenatargaryen: YOU ARE SO FAST WITH THESE HAHA

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Jace watches as the waiters begin to serve their food. It was a gourmet meal provided by his step-father's fine dining restaurant, the food was beautiful, and it had the right color. You couldn't help but feel out of place - like the girl who wore a unicorn dress to a black-tie event.

"I'm allergic, I can't eat this." You whispered, flashing Aemond a concerned look. "Sorry, Aemond was the one who confirmed the samples." Rhaenyra's voice sounded apologetic, and sad because she was the one who planned the entire event. "Oh, it's okay." You smiled.

"How long have you known each other?" Jace blurts out, swirling the champagne in his glass. The first thing that couples do while knowing each other - is going on a date, and if you've been on a date with him thousands of times, wouldn't Aemond know about your likes and dislikes?

"Nine months, and it's alright, you can have Aegon's salad. He only pretends to be vegan." Aemond switches your place with Aegon's who is currently occupied in the bathroom. "Thank you," you mumbled.

"Your brother is going to throw a fit once he sees that," Alicent interrupts. "Mom he won't even notice," Helaena looks at you with hearts on her eyes.

Jace could only raise his eyebrows. Nine months and, his uncle wasn't aware that you're allergic to lamb sauce. He bets that Aemond doesn't even know that your eyebrows merge together when you're angry. He bets that the other man doesn't even know that your favorite game is Overcooked, and you refuse to move to the next stage when you fail to reach all three stars.

He's losing you to a man that hardly knows you.

"Where did you meet?" Lucerys pipes in, taking a sip of his strawberry milkshake. "In the country club," Aemond smiles. He looks at you like you are the earth, and he is nothing but a moon that rotates around you. "Her friend Lucie Churchill, she introduced us to each other," Aemond lies.

Alicent smiles, a look of adoration on her face. Aemond has chosen the best possible woman to fall in love with, a woman who's mantle is heavy with her own achievements. "When are you getting married?" She chimes in, happy with the idea of having grandbabies.

"Soon, I've always wanted a summer wedding." You answered coyly. You glanced at him, and suddenly, this summer thing was beginning to look real. "The good ones never wait," Aemond smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

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Jace enters the balcony, seeing that you are sipping wine on your own and staring at the French skyline. The dress that you were wearing was now slightly wrinkled, and the ring on your finger was slightly loose.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Sure about what?" You asked with a rough voice.

"My uncle," his lips are pursed into a thin line. He looks for a glimmer of hope behind your eyes, but it is too far.

He is too late to bring this love back to life.

"He's the only thing that I'm sure of," you answered.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, and your eyebrows merge together. "Sorry for what?" You scoffed.

"I'm sorry that I didn't fight for us." He continues. "- it was always doomed from the beginning. I could never have asked you to make that sacrifice for me. I didn't accept it at first, but that just wasn't the life for you." You finished.

"But if I asked you back then, you would have made that sacrifice for me, so I'm sorry for not being what you needed." He says, slowly walking out of the balcony, completely oblivious of the man leaning on the door and eavesdropping on your conversation.

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nameofficial: I can't help falling in love with you... ❤️ This is the beginning of forever baby 💍

liked by 2,129,391 others

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ynkittens: wait did u get married? - nameofficial: Engaged. I'm sorry for not making it clear in the caption haha 😭

JacintaRobin: "I wanna teach you how forever feels like" aint for JACK IN A BOX bcs it's for mr aemond - Bananashake44: Aemond the literal alpha male??? THE SIGMA GIGA CHAD ??? THE ULTIMATE RIZZLER

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PART TWO

@glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @winxchesters @yentroucnagol @hotchnerswife @mxxny-lupin @mxtantrights @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kravitzwhore@sweethoneyblossom1 @introverbatim @flrboyd @kemillyfreitas

[shina913]

A Very Patient Man | LJH

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x AFAB!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: F2L; FWB; smut; pwp

Warnings: cussing; breast play; fingering; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; PIV sex; riding; ass smacking; dirty talk; creampie

Word count: 4.6k words

Summary: You’re frustrated because it takes you longer to reach an orgasm during sex. This has made you feel insecure, and you started to accept the fact you’d never meet someone patient enough to give you the attention you need. Your friend, Jihoon, casually offers a solution.

A/N: Idk. I slipped and fell onto my keyboard and all this horny word vomit spilled out. Thanks to @roaminginthenights for always enabling me in the DMs 🤣

This is also un-beta'd so...it is what it is.

Anyway! Here’s something filthy to end the year! 💜

It started innocently enough at Jihoon’s studio. You were sitting on his couch, venting about your dating life, and as always, he listened attentively just as you do when he shares his own experiences.

However, today’s visit was different. He’s letting you ramble on about a very specific topic.

“I feel like there’s an invisible time limit on foreplay.”

Jihoon’s chair creaks as he leans back, laughing at your incredulous claim. “No, there isn’t!”

“But I really think there is!” you argue. “My last date got visibly impatient, even though I...” you inhale through your teeth, “clearly asked him for more time down there. Instead, he just said, ‘It’s been five minutes, it’s my turn now.’” You huff in annoyance.

“Well, that sucks. Did you get rid of him?”

You grimace before replying. “Please don’t judge me. He was cute, so we still fucked. My vibrator finished the job,” you admit guiltily. “I blocked him on the app afterward though.”

He sighs, shaking his head in mild disappointment. “You shouldn’t compromise on your needs. If you want more time, say so and stick with it.”

You huffed wistfully. “I just take too long. I get all panicky when someone’s been down there for longer than 5 minutes.”

“You can’t rush pleasure,” he comments.

“I know that, but now, it makes me think—how long is too long before you come? Is there a play clock winding down on the field? Do I need to call out an audible?”

He doubles over again, laughing when you start using sports metaphors.

“How can some women summon an orgasm—” you snap your fingers, “just like that?”

His laughs subside, turning more serious now. “Don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to other people. Everybody’s different.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” you remark sarcastically.

He turns away to face his screen, adding more edits to a track he’s working on.

“I don’t know…” you mumble, shrugging in defeat. “I guess my vibrator and I are destined to spend the rest of our lives together. Might as well reserve matching burial plots.”

Jihoon snorts. “You just haven’t found the right partner. A really patient one, I might add,” he says, half-joking.

You smack him on his bicep, and your hand stings from the unexpected firmness under his oversized shirt. Has his arm always been this solid? When was the last time you touched his bicep? Wait—why are you even thinking of his bicep?

You and Jihoon have been close friends since college, maintaining a purely platonic relationship—never a hint of romance or sexual tension between you. On rare nights out, you even act as each other’s wingman, helping one another find potential dates. You two simply click on a different level—easy and no complications.

He looked up from his mixing board, turning to you with a slight smirk. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I happen to be very patient.”

The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. It was the kind of tone he used when chatting up potential conquests on your nights out.

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Don’t you dare use that Joey Tribbiani move on me.”

“It’s not a move.” He keeps his face serious, looking genuinely hurt by your comment. “You’re my friend. I wouldn’t do that to you,” he says softly. “I’m just saying, if you ever wanted to try, I’m game.” He tilts his head, giving a casual shrug. “No judgment.”

You stare at him, stunned, as his offer hangs in the air. You try to laugh it off, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

Was he seriously proposing that you two—nope! You refuse to go there. Jihoon is a great friend, and although you trust him, you’re not sure you’d be comfortable with the idea of...

You shake your head. You can’t even finish the thought. You glance at your watch for no reason at all.

“You know, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Oh? I thought you wanted to grab dinner?” He’s surprised and confused at your sudden change of plans.

“It’s getting late.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t that late. You feel guilty lying to your friend, but you need to escape this conversation—and this situation—as quickly as possible.

“I just got a notification from work. I need to come in early, yada-yada…You know how it is.”

He looks disappointed but doesn’t push. You gather your things, slipping your puffer jacket on, despite the room feeling several degrees warmer.

“Alright. If you’re sure—”

“Yeah,” you cut him off. That came out more tersely than you initially intended. “I’m sure,” you add with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes to try and make up for it.

He rises from his seat when you do and moves in for a hug—just like he usually does. But this time, the hug feels different; you’re suddenly hyperaware of his touch, your skin tingling all over. You return his hug stiffly, without your usual warmth, then hurry out of his studio and immediately tear off your too-hot jacket.

That night, your dreams were filled with visions—his hands tracing paths across your skin, his dark head dipping between your thighs, his intense gaze meeting yours as you hovered on the edge of unbridled pleasure. The dream felt so vivid you could have sworn you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin. It wasn’t until your alarm began blaring, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat, that reality came crashing back.

********************************************

A couple of days passed, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Jihoon. This wasn’t your usual “hope he remembered to eat lunch” thoughts or impulse to send him funny memes that popped up on your algorithm.

After your NSFW dream about him, you started noticing little things about him you’d never paid attention to before—the adorable way he’d scrunch up his nose while concentrating on work, how his muscles moved when he reached for something, or how the warm red studio lights perfectly highlighted his features.

You shake your head. It’s not that deep. Jihoon’s suggestion was only practical. There’s no reason to go down this rabbit hole.

Still, you can’t deny the growing curiosity gnawing at the back of your mind. You hadn’t expected his offer to affect you this way, but it does.

After days of avoiding him, you decide to invite him to dinner at your place. Maybe if you discussed this with him, the dreams and inappropriate thoughts would stop.

The moment he walks through your door, everything falls apart. You become hyper-aware of his every move. You catch yourself stealing glances when you think he isn’t looking, and you flinch whenever he gets too close.

Finally, he’s had enough.

“Okay,” he says firmly. “What’s with you? Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” you lie, your heart racing. You reach for your drink and take a hefty gulp.

“Have I said or done something? You’ve flaked on me the last couple of times I asked you to go out, you’ve left me on ‘read’ more than you’ve responded...”

You felt guilty for avoiding him, but you needed that space to sort out your thoughts. Though you wanted to have this conversation, you couldn’t find the right moment to broach the topic.

“Then you invite me over, barely talk—” he continues to rant.

“It’s... it’s really more of a me-problem,” you stammer.

“Just talk to me! I can take it.” He throws his hands up in frustration.

You inwardly groan, before finally coming clean. “Remember the last time we were at your studio? I was whining about...something.”

He squinted for a bit, then you could see the recognition slowly dawning in his eyes before lowering his voice. “You mean, how you take a long time to reach an orgasm?”

You shut your eyes, mortified when he articulates it. “Yes…”

“What about it?”

“It’s not exactly about that, but it’s more about what you said after. You know—your offer to help?”

His face visibly relaxes, prompting you to continue. “Okay.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, but you push through. “Did you mean it, or were you just messing with me?”

He stares at you for a moment before shaking his head, the corner of his lips quirking up. “The offer still stands, if you want it.”

You sit there chewing the inside of your cheek, feeling torn. Your brain tells you to be careful—fucking your best friend could make things weird. But your body has other ideas. The warmth pooling between your legs makes it harder to think straight.

“Are you considering it?” His voice is gentle, giving you space to choose.

You deflect, buying time to sort through your tumbling thoughts. “I’m curious... have you thought about this before? About us?”

“The idea has crossed my mind from time to time.”

His candor sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“What about you? Have you thought about us...doing things?”

You draw in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be equally honest. “I never thought of us that way before you mentioned it. But now...” you trail off, unable to verbalize how his suggestion has shifted something between you.

He inches closer, but maintains enough distance to keep you comfortable. His expression grows serious, earnest. “Listen, I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to. You’re one of my best friends, and that matters more to me than anything else. If I’m out of line, just say the word and we won’t talk about it ever again.” The sincerity in his voice, the genuine concern in his eyes makes your heart ache. You’ve always known him to be considerate of your feelings.

“You weren’t out of line.” Hearing you say this was a huge relief to him. “But you can’t really un-ring that bell,” you add wryly.

You also couldn’t get past an earlier comment he made. “So…you’ve thought about us before?”

He takes a moment before answering. “Yeah. I mean, you’re beautiful. Who wouldn’t want you?”

Your cheeks flush at his compliment.

Your best friend has always had this effortless way about him—you’ve seen firsthand how easily he charms people during your nights out together.

Your resolve crumbles, and honestly, you’re tired of fighting it. “How are you so chill about all this?”

He laughs. “It’s sex, not rocket science.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Things won’t get weird afterward, will they?”

“Afterward? So...you’re saying you want to have sex? With me?” His eyebrows raise slightly.

You already knew the answer to that question the moment you asked him to come over. “I guess I do,” you say softly with a nervous smile, “for science?”

His sexy, throaty laugh echoes through the room.

********

You sit nervously on your couch facing each other. Since this is completely new territory for both of you, you know you need to take things slow and make sure you’re both comfortable. Gathering up the courage to agree to this experiment is the easy part, but actually getting into it?

“Just to be clear—this is a one-time thing, right?”

“Of course,” he confirms. “This is purely for educational purposes. And your pleasure.”

You scrunch your nose in protest. “That doesn’t seem like a fair exchange.” The idea of him seeing this as one-sided doesn’t sit right with you. “Shouldn’t this be mutually beneficial?”

“I never said I had to get something out of this. You want to experience an orgasm from foreplay alone, without mechanical assistance, right?”

You nod.

“Okay. So, let me focus on making that happen for you. You don’t need to think about anything else.”

You didn’t want to be selfish, but his offer was difficult to refuse.

“This is about you, not me,” he insists. His decision is firm and he wasn’t budging.

“Okay,” you relent. Fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt, you take in a deep breath and release it before muttering, “How should we do this...”

When Jihoon doesn’t immediately offer any suggestions, you think of the most natural way to start.

“Maybe we could start with kissing?”

“Right, good idea.” His voice wavers slightly, betraying that he’s just as nervous as you are despite his attempts to stay composed. Oddly, this puts you at ease—knowing you’re both on the same page, figuring this out as you go.

You both move in closer together, and time seems to slow as he leans in. Your eyes flutter shut, then his lips meet yours. They’re exactly as you’d imagined—soft, warm, and unexpectedly gentle. The kiss starts tentatively, but as your lips find their rhythm, everything feels natural.

When you break apart for a moment, you can’t help but smile. “You’re a good kisser.” You barely finish the sentence before being drawn back to his lips.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he hums, and you can feel his smile against your lips as you both laugh, the sounds melting into your kisses.

Your kisses grow more intense, your mouth sucking on his top lip while his tongue traces delicately along yours, building a warmth that spreads through your entire body. You fist at his shirt, bunching the fabric between your knuckles, while his hand cradles your neck, his thumb gently stroking along your pulse point.

Gradually, his kisses move from your lips, following a path along the curve of your jawline, down to the slope of your neck. You can’t help but giggle at the sensation.

He instantly pulls back, a worried look on his face. “Sorry, are you not into that?”

“No, no—I mean—Yes, I am into it. I’m just a little bit ticklish there, that’s all,” you explain.

“Oh... okay. Do you want to keep going?”

You nod, and as he leans in for another kiss but pauses when you place a hand on his chest. “You know, I didn’t think I’d enjoy this because we’ve been friends for so long, but I have to admit that I like it.”

“Yeah?” A smirk plays across his lips. “Tell me what else you like.” He nips at your jawline. “Or show me.”

Desire spreads through you like wildfire. This was the point of no return. You take his hands and guide them under your shirt until they cup your breasts.

“What do you want me to do?” He murmurs through your lips.

“Play with them.”

His lips capture yours again as he squeezes your breast gently.

He eases you down onto the couch, his lips trailing from yours down your neck to your sternum. When he lifts your shirt to your chest, you feel constrained and pull it off completely, tossing it aside. He follows your lead, removing his own shirt.

His skilled fingers unhook your bra and takes a nipple into his mouth while his thumb teases the other, drawing a sharp breath from you.

You run your fingers through his hair as his kisses trace down your stomach, making your back arch at the sensation against your skin.

His hands glide down your sides until they reach your jeans, where he carefully undoes the button. You hook your fingers into your waistband and start pushing your bottoms down. He helps slide them off, his touch remaining gentle but with a hint of urgency as he pulls the fabric from your legs. As the last piece of clothing falls away, the cool air against your newly exposed skin makes you shiver.

One of his hands pushed between your legs, making them fall open shamelessly. His other hand continued to massage your breasts, making them unbearably sensitive. You can’t believe how slick you’d gotten in a short span of time. To think he hadn’t done much to you yet, apart from kissing you and squeezing your tits.

His gaze traveled down your body, lingering where his fingertips teased your sensitive folds. His feather-light touches made your inner walls clench with need. This only heightened your arousal, making you squirm beneath him, silently begging for more.

He slid one finger carefully into you. Your eyes closed against the unbearable vulnerability of being spread out naked and fingered by your friend, kneeling on the floor beside you. “Don’t think…just feel.” You keened as Jihoon pulled out and thrust gently back into you with two fingers. You couldn’t hold back a moan.

It’s probably been a few minutes now, you’re not sure as you’ve completely lost track of time. You blink furiously in a mild panic and stare down at him, still leisurely finger-fucking you. What he was doing felt so good, but you weren’t even halfway to your peak yet. By this point, other partners would be coming up for air, wanting you to return the favor or just ready to stick their cock in to get their fill.

“Relax...” he cooed, pressing a kiss against your inner thigh. Each deliberate dip and languid curl of his skilled fingers inside you made you wetter, gradually coaxing your muscles to yield. “It’s not a race,” he reassured you softly, his voice thick with desire. “I’ll keep going until you come.”

His words of encouragement sent waves of arousal coursing through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Kiss me,” you choked out, needing to feel his lips against yours. Without hesitation, he obliged, sealing his mouth over yours in a deep kiss that made you dizzy.

Your fingers clutched desperately at the edges of your cushions, knuckles turning white from your grip as you felt that familiar sensation between your legs. “Right there. Don’t stop,” you gasped between heavy breaths, your hips bucking against his steadily thrusting fingers. The pleasure was building to an unbearable level, making you feel like you might shatter to pieces if he didn’t push you over the edge soon.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things—words you’d never heard him say to you. They revealed previously unspoken fantasies that ignited your body and overwhelmed your senses. A fleeting thought crossed your mind, wondering if this was his usual bedroom talk. But that thought slipped away as his words and actions consumed you completely. Before you realized it, you were peaking.

“I want to see what you look like when you come,” he purred. “Do you look as pretty as you do right now?” Everything tightened in your core while he kept up his ministrations in a steady, unhurried rhythm.

“Oh fuck, I’m coming…”

“Don’t hold back. Let me hear you,” he urged.

You let out a strangled cry, your mind far beyond the depths of euphoria to care about being quiet or demure about this. He was mesmerized, unable to look away at the sheer pleasure that washed over you. Before you could even process what just happened, he’d already hooked your leg over the back of the couch and covered your cleft with his mouth.

He stroked your clit with his tongue, fluttering over it, building your hunger back up again. He teased your slick folds, taunting you with the promise of another orgasm—something you thought impossible to achieve so soon, yet your body responded eagerly. When his fingers pushed inside you at the same time, you had to bite your lip to stifle a scream.

You came again, your thighs trembling, tender muscles pulsing around his touch. His growl vibrated through you. You didn’t have the strength to push him away when he returned to your clit and sucked softly…tirelessly…but now you wanted more. You needed to feel him.

You manage to sit up and squeeze his shoulder to get his attention. He peers up at you from between your thighs.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Already?” He smiles, teasing you with painfully slow strokes of his fingers. “Pretty sure I can get another one out of you,” he says cockily.

“Lee Jihoon—I. Am asking you. To fuck. Me,” you punctuated. “Will you do it or not?”

He sits up, turning sheepish all of a sudden. “I, uhm…didn’t expect us to be doing this, so I didn’t bring any condoms.”

It’s not like he was some random guy. Although you appreciated his caution, you just wanted him inside you. “I trust you,” you tell him before pressing a kiss to him.

After he settles on the couch, you shift unsteadily to straddle his hips, pressing your bodies together. Reaching between you, you fumble with his jeans until he helps, lifting his hips in a fluid motion to pull them down just enough to free himself. Bracing yourself, you let him guide you as you slowly sink down onto him. Your lips part with an involuntary sigh that turns into a soft moan as he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way.

When you begin to roll your hips, the friction sends sparks of pleasure through your core.

“Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he breathes out roughly, his fingers digging into your hips before worry suddenly crosses his face. His cheeks flush as he stammers, “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

You giggle at his compliment, causing your muscles to clamp around his length. “I’m not mad at it,” you reassure him. “You make me feel really good, too.”

“Yeah?” His brow quirks. “You like when I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you moan, dipping your head to his lips in another kiss as you find your rhythm together.

His hands roam your back, pulling you closer as you rock against him with increasing urgency. Before this, you’ve resigned yourself to never experiencing an orgasm from penetrative sex, and yet here was another brewing and there was nothing you could do but let it happen.

You gasp as his hand makes sudden contact with your ass, the unexpected sting making you freeze in place. You stare at him dumbfounded.

“What are you going to do about it?” he challenges. Before you can answer, his hand comes down again with another firm smack that rings through the room. “What?” The sound of provocation in his voice makes your pulse quicken.

You hover over him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer. Through gritted teeth, your voice emerges as a heated whisper. “Harder.”

“I thought so.” He smiles slyly before your lips crash in a fierce kiss that leaves you both breathless.

With a firm grip, he holds your hips still as he thrusts into you with deliberate, measured strokes. You clutch at him, the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Jihoon buries his face between your breasts, his rough groans reverberating against your flesh.

You whine helplessly, overwhelmed by the building pressure as the familiar coil of tension in your belly winds impossibly tight. Your thighs burn as you teeter on the edge of release.

“Yes...d-don’t...stop...hm...so close,” you pant.

He slows his movements to an agonizing pace, drawing out each thrust to drive you insane. He pulls out completely before sinking back into you with one deep thrust that makes you see stars. Your jaw drops, unintelligible sounds tumbling out your mouth as you come hard.

You hold onto him for dear life, your nails leaving a trail of crescent marks on his skin as he picks up the pace once again, his own rhythm becoming more erratic as he chases his own orgasm. A deep groan rumbles from his chest as your walls pulse and clench around him.

“I’m close,” he warns, his usually calm and collected face now twisted with agonizing need.

“Don’t pull out,” you manage to choke out between strained, ragged breaths.

“You…s-sure…?”

You nod eagerly. With your permission, he thrusts deeper and harder, making your neck loll in ecstasy. He draws you back into a rough, hungry kiss that muffles your shared moans as he reaches the end of his rope, his hips jerking against yours while he spurts inside.

Pressing your sweat-slicked forehead against his, you wait for your heart rate to return to normal. There’s no doubt in your mind—no previous partner could compare to Jihoon.

“Oh my fucking god,” you sigh. “We’ve been missing out all this time.”

He laughs softly, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “It was worth the wait though!”

********

After a quick shower and a necessary trip to the pharmacy down the block, you and Jihoon return to your apartment with bags of late-night snacks. All that sexual activity had certainly worked up an appetite, and you found yourself craving something sweet. An ice cream waffle cone hit the spot for you.

“Are you okay?”

You smile, endeared at his worrying. “You know, you’ve asked me that same question multiple times now, and I’ll keep giving you the same answer—I’m fine. Great, actually!”

“I know, I know,” he responds sheepishly. “I just hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”

“Trust me, I don’t feel awkward about any of this at all,” you respond with complete sincerity before facing him to find out if he felt the same way you did. “Do you?”

He shakes his head, tilting the bag of Skittles into his mouth. “Nope,” he answers between chews. “To be honest, I thought that was fucking mind-blowing!”

You inhale sharply at his candid comment, nodding in agreement. “Same. Absolutely no complaints from me!”

He gets up from the couch, takes out a small box from the shopping bag to set it aside, and stuffs your discarded candy wrappers into it before heading to the kitchen to throw them away.

When he returns from the kitchen, your eyes linger on him. “Thanks, Jihoonie,” you whisper. “For…everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies with a wink before sinking back into the couch beside you.

This turned out to be the complete opposite of your initial fears. Not only did this one-off experiment exceed all your expectations, but it seems your friendship remained the same. Though you never would have guessed that your best friend would end up giving you the best orgasms of your life.

As you continue to enjoy your treat, you notice Jihoon’s eyes fixed on your tongue as it swirls around the chocolate ice cream. His dark eyes watching you with the same intensity as when you came undone with his touch earlier.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “Quit staring at me like that,” you cautioned, though your tone suggested otherwise.

“Then don’t ever eat an ice cream cone in front of me,” he responds with a chuckle as he subtly adjusts himself beneath his pants.

You bite your lip, feeling a warmth between your legs again. “You know...” you clear your throat, reaching for the box of condoms he left on the coffee table, “I wonder if these things really live up to the ‘raw’ feel.”

He clicks his teeth dismissively before responding. “I think it’s false advertising.”

“You think so?”

He takes the box from you, examining the label. “I mean, we do have a perfect point of comparison,” he reasons, a smile ghosting his lips. “Should we find out?”

You stare at each other for a moment before breaking into grins and exclaiming in unison, “For science!”

Main SVT Fic Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

Interaction/feedback is appreciated but *not* required. But just in case you feel comfortable enough to comment or just say hello, my inbox 📩 is open 💜💎

[notapradagurl7]

Frosted Whispers.

Black Fem! Reader x Terry RichmondBillonaire! & Kelvin Harrison Jr.Billonaire!

Word Count: 3544k 😭

Warnings: +18, dirty talk, mention of burnout, praise, mention of favoritism, profanity, mention of wealth and power, fluff, soft Kelvin, soft Terry, voyeurism, toxic smut, confession, fingering, oral(male & female receiving) slight degradation, dominant duo, teasing, PWP, consensual for all parties, Kelvin and Terry are bosses but spoil the reader, unprotected sex.(wear protection)

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @life-in-the-slut-house @liatreads @sweettea-and-honeybutter @ovohanna24 @henneseyhoe @euphorichappiness10 @mightbeher @miguelspvssy @simplyzeeka @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @planetblaque @blackmoonchilee @slutsareteacherstoo @writingsbytee @nayaesworld @mymindisneverhere @sageispunk @slippinninque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone @keyera-jackson @amplifiedmoan @avoidthings

A/N: Happy holidays! I've been seeing these two on my timeline so much that I decided to write about these two cuties, here is a cozy, nasty Christmas gift from me to you! Enjoy! 🎄🤶 Don't forget to leave a like, comment & reblog to support, feel free to ask for a request! ❤️

Summary: You were sent to a cozy cabin Christmas retreat in the secluded Rocky Mountains picked by two of your wealthy bosses Terry and Kelvin, for a much-needed break from the hustle and bustle of your corporate lives.

————

Ding. The notification you've been waiting for since September, you grabbed your phone from the dresser and your eyes scanned the text message from Mr. Richmond or Terry as you would call him outside of the workplace.

Terry.

We are on our way to pick you up, don't forget to wear a coat since it's gonna be snowing out there.

Your phone buzzed again, you giggled at Kelvin text in the group chat called “It's Work, right?”

Kelvin.🤣💞

Don't forget to be out of that house by the time we pull up🙄

You.

You ain't my daddy Kelvin,🙄🤣

Terry.😌💞

Kel, you play too damn much.

You grinned like a Cheshire cat from Alice In Wonderland, laughing at the messages, unlocking your phone and quickly sending a text back to the attractive man who was also your boss.

You.

Okay, can't wait to see both of you! I'll be waiting impatiently 🤣

Dressed in a warm toffee-colored turtleneck sweater and black pants, matching boots, and socks adorned your feet. Your brown box braids hung to your elbows, a beanie atop your pretty head.

Full of zeal you were for a much-needed break from work, luckily you chose to work from home. It was a private cozy cabin in the Rocky Mountains with your bosses Terry and Kelvin.

You worked diligently and consistently in a successful corporate business which was an LLC, owned by Terry’s father and Kelvin’s father through inheritance, which some would call a clear, cold case of nepotism. Turns out their fathers were the best of friends.

Some would call it a white boys club at that, but it wasn't at all, it was black-owned by two black men with black business workers there. It was certified for sure.

Let’s not forget that you worked for two very handsome men, but on the outside, they were strict yet fair to their employees. Knowing when to not take shit from anyone and ready to fire the ones who were douchebags, or being inappropriate to co-workers. Prematurely erased from the planet, and unable to find another job.

The men made sure to get tested and sent you the papers to prove it that they were both clean, you did the same and let them know that you were on the pill. You were glad they did it without complaining, they wanted to be honest with you.

Other co-workers accused Terry and Kelvin of favoritism, which only involved you since you were an assistant to them both, you didn't make excuses, and you arrived at work on time, and worked nights and days.

You earned an amazing amount of pay that allowed you to get in a great house in a safe neighborhood, and books you wanted to read, places you wanted to go. It was a dream come true.

Obviously, you didn't give a damn what other people said or thought of you. You knew that you worked hard to get where you needed to be, you didn't need to prove it to anyone.

Looking in the full-length mirror, making sure you look good for you self. You sure did as always.

“Damn, I look fine as hell and I'm nervous,” you mumbled.

You caught the sound of a horn honking cutting through your thoughts, you kissed your teeth and grabbed your pink duffle bag.

Hurried your way out of your house, turned on your alarm and locked the front door with quickness.

Kelvin leaned against the luxurious black truck with a sinful grin on his face, while Terry sat behind the wheel. Leaning in the seat as his eyes flicker toward you, chuckling at your almost lateness.

“Hurry your ass up, girl! The snow is probably melting by now!” Kelvin hollered with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully at them, as your movement was fast anyway, you've never been to the Rocky Mountains before, so seen that much snow.

This was your first taste of cabin living, the crisp snow crunched underneath your shoes and greeted you with the holiday season.

Normally, bosses and their employees weren't at good terms but it was different between you, Terry, and Kelvin. When they wanted to go to dinner, you agreed.

At first, it was about the benefits that came with being friends with Terry and Kelvin, but they turned out to be such sweethearts, normally some men wouldn't understand or try to get with co-workers but this was different.

“I’m coming, damn!” You yelled back, slinging your duffle bag over your shoulder.

Kelvin held out his hand like the gentleman he was, you passed your duffle bag to him. “What a perfect gentleman, thank you,” you replied, in a royalty-like tone.

He nodded and opened the door for you, in the backseat. “You’re welcome, after you, my lady,” he replied back, his tone in royalty-like.

You chuckled lightly, “Y’all are too much,” you said, shaking your head as you slid into the backseat.

The car was warm with the heat blowing at the right temperature, a stark contrast to the brisk winter air outside. Terry glanced back at you through the rearview mirror, his playful smirk softening into something more tender.

“You’re gonna love it up there, just you wait,” Terry chimed in, his voice smooth as melted chocolate.

“I’m sure I will, as long as you two don’t start acting like children,” you teased, leaning back comfortably against the plush leather seats.

Kelvin turned slightly in his seat, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Who, us? Never. We’re perfect angels,” he said, feigning innocence. But you knew better.

“Right, and I’m the Queen of England,” you retorted, crossing your arms playfully.

Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “You know you love it. Besides, you’re the one who’s been working your ass off. You deserve this break.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it’d come with a side of y’all acting like complete goofballs,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully.

The car came to a stop in the clear driveway, before you can reach for the door handle, Terry opened the door for and stepped out. Thanking him with a warm tone and you passed your bag to Kelvin, while you smiled at him.

The cabin was nestled at the base of a mountain, surrounded by the whispering pines dusted in white. The moment you stepped out, the air felt crisp and fresh, invigorating.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathed, taking in the stunning view.

Terry stepped out beside you, his tall frame casting a long shadow. “Welcome to our little winter wonderland,” he coaxed, a proud grin spreading across his face.

Kelvin joined you, his hands thrust deep into his pockets, his playful demeanor shifting slightly, as if he was soaking in the serenity. “And we’ve got all the comforts of home. Hot cocoa, a fireplace, and—” he paused dramatically, “—a fully stocked kitchen.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “I might just make you both work.”

“Now, that’s the spirit!” Kelvin laughed, nudging you playfully. “But only if you promise not to burn anything.”

“Ha! Very funny,” you shot back. “I’m not that bad.”

Terry leaned closer, lowering his voice. “We’ll see about that. Just remember, if you burn something, you’re on dish duty.”

You laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet woods. As the three of you made your way to the cabin, a sense of warmth and comfort enveloped you. Kelvin unlocked the door and nudged it, You walked in first while Kelvin and Terry followed behind you.

Inside, the cabin was just as cozy as you imagined, the fireplace crackling and casting flickering shadows on the walls. It was breathtaking, biting down on your lip.

“Let me show you to your room,” Kelvin chimed in, his tone shifting to something softer, more sincere. “We want you to feel at home here.”

You followed him down a short hallway, feeling your pulse quicken slightly as he opened the door to a beautifully decorated room.

“Wow, this is amazing,” you exclaimed, stepping inside. The space was adorned with plush blankets and twinkling fairy lights, presents on the bed with your name on them.

“All for you,” Kelvin exclaimed, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze steady. “We wanted you to feel special.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, warmth flooding your cheeks. “You guys really didn’t have to do all this,” you said, turning to him.

“Of course we did,” Terry chimed in from behind you. “You work harder than anyone I know. You deserve it.”

You felt like a queen in a storybook, soon to be courted by two kings who wanted to give you the world that was created by only them.

You turned to him, finding his gaze sincere and deep, something settling in your chest. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot.”

“Good, now go get settled. We’ll be right out here,” Kelvin added, his voice dipped low, almost intimate.

As you closed the door, you took a deep breath, feeling the excitement and tension swirl in the air. You felt like you were on the edge of something new, something thrilling. You took off your coat and beanie, throw it in the dresser, take off your shoes and slide on some slippers.

After unpacking, you joined them in the living room, where they were both lounging on the couch watching a movie from the 2000s, a bottle of wine and glasses waiting on the coffee table.

“Join us?” Terry asked, his dark eyes inviting.

“Absolutely,” you smiled, taking a seat between them, feeling the warmth radiate from their bodies. Grabbing a champagne glass from Terry.

“You know, we’ve been talking,” Kelvin began, his voice a low rumble.

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh really? What’s this about?”

Terry leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends. It’s about time we show you how much we value you.”

“Let me guess, it's time for me to unwrap my gifts in my room.” you teased, giggling a bit.

Terry darkly chuckled with a smirk, watching you sip from your glass. You sat in between them on the couch. Patiently waiting for what they had to say to you. “You can say that,”

“We have mustered up the courage to tell you that we both have feelings for you, if you don't feel the same way then we completely understand,” Kelvin confessed with gentleness in his time.

Obviously you liked both of them, could you be with them both without a scandal? You would have to quit your job or would they fire you? They wouldn't, A throuple would be the appropriate label.

You shook your head trying to brush off those thoughts away and enjoy this moment with them.

“I don't want to choose, I rather have both of you, Terry and Kelvin, you've been on my mind for quite some time now, but I want to keep it on the low at work, I need my job,” you confessed.

Terry and Aaron exchanged looks before nodding, “Understandable but if this ever goes out then we will protect you,” he said in a reassuring tone.

“Have you been naughty or nice this year beautiful?” Terry chimed in, his eyes roaming your body.

A smile etched on your face, placing your hand on the nape of his neck, “I think I have been good this year,”

“Can I get a kiss from my girl?”

“Your girl? You mean our girl right?”

After that, Terry kissed your lips deeply, while Kelvin slid off your sweater, he began to take off his tee shirt. Unhooking your bra and throw it across the room, your breasts poked out swiftly, he kissed your cheek as you broke the kiss with Terry, causing the male’s face to twist up.

A sinful smirk etched on Kelvin’s face, “What? You could get all the damn attention from our girl?”

“Is that a challenge I hear?” Terry asked him.

Terry slides off his sweater, unbuckling his belt and freed his dick with your hand grabbed it gently eliciting a grunt from him.

“Would you like a taste?” Terry coaxed darkly.

“Can I eat you out while you're sucking him off?” Kelvin asked, kissing your neck and sucking your skin to leave a hickey.

“Yes, please,” You replied with a seductive tone, kissing his lips twice.

You took him eagerly in your mouth, using your hand to stroke him from what you couldn't fit in your mouth, sucking him off and Kelvin took off his clothes. Rubbing your breast and pinching your nipple, “Kel…mhm..” you moaned again.

With your consent, Kelvin gently slid your purple panties from your ankles, grabbing underneath your knees and resting them on his shoulders. His lips kissing your clit sweetly eliciting muffled moans from you. You sent vibrations on Terry’s thick length, bopping your head while Kelvin’s fingers slid between your wet folds. “So fucking wet, this shit is turning you on?” he asked.

“Suck that shit baby, you're doing so well for me,” Terry groaned, pushing his hips into the warmth of your mouth. Closing his eyes to relish in every moment.

That only made Kelvin work harder with his mouth, his tongue tracing shapes on your throbbing clit and thrusting his fingers in and out of you skillfully, your essence spurting out on his wrist and moaning onto Terry’s dick. “You taste so fucking good,” Kelvin moaned onto your pussy.

On the verge of a climax, you and Terry felt the knot untighten, his warm jets of cum poured onto your tounge causing you to swallow every bit of him, pulling his dick out. “You did an amazing job,” Terry praised, You moaned loudly at Kelvin still eating you out.

Your hips rolled against his mouth, your head fell back onto the armrest. Your essence poured onto Kelvin’s mouth, swallowing every drop of you. Hand resting on the nape of his neck, “Just like that, you're both are so good to me,” you babbled softly, hearing a slurping noise from him.

Kelvin moved his head away and looked up at you with a smirk, “You deserve the better, my love,” he cooed, cupped your face and kissed you passionately yet deeply, your tongue slipped in with his. Pulling away with a soft smack.

“My turn,” Kelvin playful sang before kissing your lips sweetly.

Kelvin lifted you effortlessly and sat comfortably on the couch, your hand resting on his shoulders with his hands gripping your hips. Sliding you onto his dick gradually and filling you completely. “Damn, I'm buying an engagement ring next time,”

Your mouth parted wide, pulling him close in a tight bear hug, you kissed him sloppily, “Strange way to propose..yess,” you cried out, his hips moved yours, creating a slapping sound similar to a gunshot.

“Oh fuckkk! Kelvin!” You cried out, eyes rolling back. Hips rolling against him as your body shook with pleasure. Kelvin watched your essence pooled around his dick, he groaned out your name like a seductive song, watching you fall apart after every stroke.

He laid you down on your back and you grabbed the couch armrest for dear life, fucking you like he had something to prove, he rutted into you and Terry watched with a smirk, your reactions to Kelvin’s thrusts turned him on. “Oh yes! Shit!” you cried again, nails scratched his back eliciting a hiss from him.

Terry’s lush lips took your nipple in his mouth with genuine care, your hand rested on the nape of his neck. Your hips rolled against Kelvin’s thick dick, screaming out their names to the mountains.“T-Terry…Kelvin..baby, you make me feel so gooddddd,” you babbled, tears falling down your cheeks.

Terry’s finger rubbed your clit in circles, and you whimpered his name again. “Damn, you’re so perfect,” Kelvin groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he thrust into you deeper, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Such possessive men they were, your attention and your love were their oxygen. Couldn't live without it.

Terry looked up from your breast, his dark eyes glinting with pride. “You’re taking him so well, baby. You’re such a good girl,” he praised, his voice low and sultry, sending shivers down your spine.

“Y-yes, I’m trying baby,” you stuttered out, trying to keep your composure as both men lavished you with attention.

Kelvin leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You feel so damn good wrapped around me. I could stay here forever,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

“Me too,” you breathed, losing yourself in the moment as you rocked your hips against his, feeling his length hit the perfect spot inside you. “Please don’t stop.”

“Never,” he replied, picking up the pace, his thrusts becoming more frantic. You could feel the tension building within you, the knot tightening in your belly as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

Terry’s mouth moved from your nipple to your ear and cupped your breast, his hot breath sending another wave of arousal through you. “Let go for us, baby. We’re right here,” he murmured, his fingers still working expertly on your clit, teasing and coaxing you towards your release.

With a few more thrusts and Terry’s skilled fingers, you felt the world around you blur. You cried out as the pleasure peaked, your body trembling as you came undone. “I’m cumming!” you screamed, your nails digging into Kelvin’s shoulders as the waves of ecstasy washed over you.

“That’s it, baby girl. Let it all out,” Kelvin urged, his own release following closely as he buried himself deep inside you, filling you with his cum completely.

Terry’s fingers continued to work on your clit, coaxing out every last bit of pleasure until you were panting, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasm. “Terry…please, Kelvin!” you cried out.

As Kelvin collapsed beside you, still catching his breath, Terry leaned over to kiss you softly, his lips brushing against yours tenderly. “You did so amazing, sweetheart,” he whispered, his eyes sparkling with affection.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “I couldn’t have done it without both of you,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face as you glanced between the two of them.

Kelvin chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, feeling a sense of belonging and happiness you hadn’t experienced before.

“Next time, we should try the hot tub outside,” Kelvin suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Only if you promise to keep the hot cocoa flowing,” you teased back, feeling the playful banter return.

“Deal,” Terry chimed in, his arm tightening around you, making you feel safe and cherished.

“A hot bath for our favorite girl?” Kelvin asked with a grin, picking up you in his arms, and carrying you to the bathroom. You nodded weakly.

“Make sure it's on the right temperature, nigga.” Terry shouted out, rolling his eyes. They pulled up their pants and followed behind Kelvin. Cleaning up the place immediately.

The white marble curved bath tub was filled with heat and soapy foam, you sighed in bliss. Terry passed your favorite book with a bookmark in between and kissed your forehead, “Enjoy, Empress,” he said before closing the door.

You freshened up, dried off, and applied lotion. You wore a loose t-shirt and leggings. you sauntered back into the clean living area, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.

As you entered, you found Terry and Kelvin lounging comfortably on the couch, both looking up at you with amused expressions.

"Look who decided to grace us with her presence," Terry teased, a playful smirk on his face.

"Had to make sure I was all clean and cute for my two favorite bosses," you replied, winking at them as you sank onto the couch beside Kelvin.

"Cute is an understatement," Kelvin remarked, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of desire. "You look absolutely stunning."

"Thanks, I appreciate it,” You smiled, sitting in between them.

For the rest of the night, you cuddled close to them with warm blankets and classic Christmas movies, and hot cocoa. Treated like the queen that are you.

[vminsos]

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@nedaaabd - post | fundraiser

@hashem1979 - post | fundraiser

@yasmin-yonis - post | fundraiser

@ammarfamily - post | fundraiser

@yousef-falestinef - post | fundraiser

@mohammed-hassouna1 - post | fundraiser

@samy-family55 - post | fundraiser

@wafaaresh1 - post | fundraiser

these are the ones it was on my inbox today! this post probably will be updated if i receive more!

[thezombieprostitute]

Taking Care of You

A/N: Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Prompt: hot chocolate/apple cider/tea and a nice book

Warnings: Implied smut, Language, Pregnancy. Please let me know if I'm missing any!

Series Masterlist

You were sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket, alternating between watching the snow fall and reading your book while drinking cider made from the apples you and Steve had picked earlier in the year. Back before you knew you were pregnant.

Your smile widens at the memory of Steve trying to tell you about it. That it was the reason he'd been in such a territorial, protective mood. You weren't upset with him but you did ask about a pregnancy test or two to confirm. He understood and not only got you the pregnancy tests but also got you a doctor appointment to confirm. Sure enough, you were about a month along then.

Since then Steve has been going into overdrive to make sure you and the baby are safe and comfortable. Emphasis on the comfortable. You never thought you'd go for the kind of man that takes care of almost literally everything for you, but Steve might be changing your mind on that. He somehow manages to be around all the time without feeling suffocating. Even when you go into town together and he's in full on guard mode. If anything, his caring, protective side just makes your hormones go even more out of control.

As if on cue, Steve comes into the living room from his workshop. He's been working on a handmade crib for the little one, insisting he wants the pup to be surrounded by familial scents. He must have worked up a sweat because his shirt is off and you lick your lips at his exposed torso. You gently squeeze your thighs together and he gives you a knowing look.

"Does my girl need some attention?" he almost growls.

"Please, Steve," you whine.

"Tell me what you need, Doll."

"I need you to fuck me, Steve," you whimper. "I need you to fill my pussy with your cock, please!"

Steve's pupils are blown as he starts unwrapping you from your blankets. "It'll cost you, you know."

"What's the price?" you moan. The blankets are off and his hands are pushing down your sweatpants.

"First I get to eat your pussy like it's my last meal."

A shiver runs down your spine as you whimper, "yes, please."

You're woken up by the sound of Steve's voice. You feel a slight pressure on your stomach and, after blinking a few times, you realize Steve is talking to the small bump created by the baby.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," he confesses to the baby bump. "But I promise I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you and your mama are safe and happy." He pauses for a few moments. "That being said, we gotta have a talk about your eating habits. I get that you want a lot of protein but you need to let Mama eat some vegetables. You both need the nutrients. It can't be steak, pork chops, and ham all the time. Though you do seem to accept soups and stir fry. Maybe Mama can teach me how to make those so she can rest some more. Don't think I haven't noticed how tired she's gotten. Seriously, you gotta let her eat some veggies."

His one-sided conversation is interrupted by your giggles.

"Excuse you," he playfully chides, "I'm having a conversation here."

"You're talking to my belly," you counter.

"I'm talking to our baby, thank you."

You both smile softly when he says that. You gesture for him to move in close for a kiss and he acquiesces.

"And I know you're going to be a great dad," you assure him, making his cheeks turn pink.

"We won't know for certain until the baby is here."

"Trust me," you hug him. "You're already working hard to make sure this baby has a great start in life. You've even been reaching out to other werewolves, something you've never done before, just to ask about things for me and the baby. You swallowed your pride for us. That's no small endeavor."

Steve nuzzles his beard against your neck. "Thank you for giving me a much better, richer life than I ever thought I'd get."

"My pleasure, Steve."

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[martybaker]

There was only one couch

Tfw you cannot find the jayvik fic you crave so you write it yourself 🙃

I also gotta preface this with - I cannot write science talk for the life of me, in my defense they are sleep deprived so if it doesn’t make much sense, it’s not supposed to 🙈

—————————

They’ve been stuck at this problem for hours, any potential paths they managed to come up with immediately shattering after but a couple pokes of logic aimed to test the solidity of their foundations. Like bubbles popped by a child’s finger. Like heated corn kernels. Like dreams of making a difference-

Viktor’s too tired to think in metaphors.

He drops the pencil and swivels in his chair, facing Jayce who’s already draped across their shabby sofa, long legs sticking out from one end, head inclined on the armrest on the side closer to Viktor.

“What if we…build an oven?” Jayce says. “Well not like, an oven, but reverse, a device that could contain the energy and…,” he waves his hands in the air as he talks, as if that would help illustrate his train of thought, “…uhhh, we could more safely work on directing the charges? Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

Viktor chuckles. He doesn’t know why he does, it’s not even particularly funny, the exhaustion must have erased any common sense of his that was left. Yet it’s…comforting to see that same exhaustion mirrored in Jayce. The same dark circles, the same bone deep tiredness weighing him down, the same look of frustration after they’ve been hitting dead ends and running in circles. It’s a shared exhaustion, just like the hard work is shared. Probably should have called it a night hours ago. They both direly need the rest.

“An oven? That would be your hunger speaking, I’m afraid,” Viktor says, reaching for his cane, grinding his teeth to gather the energy to push himself up onto his feet.

“Nah, m’not hungry,” Jayce mumbles. “We had those sandwiches for lunch. Or was it dinner? What time is it even?”

“Too late by all accounts,” Viktor says, taking the few steps towards the couch. He looks at Jayce, who seems glued to the couch and likely is planning to spend the night there. Viktor looks towards the door, but hesitates. The idea of the track across campus to his lodgings really doesn’t sound appealing.

It’s not even that far, the university tried to accommodate Viktor’s needs as best as they could and gave him a room on the ground floor, plus the building is the closest housing to the Engineering department’s laboratories. And yet, today it feels miles away. Damn his leg, damn all the stairs, and damn his hubris for yet again pushing his body beyond its limits, knowing fully well it will backfire ten folds and render him even more useless in the morning.

Jayce notices his hesitation, damn his partner’s bright mind too. He can read Viktor too well, he guesses the reason for his histation despite Viktor’s lack of complaining.

“Oh, do you wanna sleep here? I’ll head home, no problem,” he suggests way too readily, already hoisting himself up onto his elbows.

Viktor tsks and pushes against Jayce’s chest, pushing him back down into the couch.

“Stay,” he hisses. Jayce lives off campus, it would take him much longer to get home. Viktor’s not about to kick him out. And he doesn’t care for compassion either.

Jayce knows this, yet the man cannot help but be kind and caring, and though it irritates Viktor when it's aimed at him, it is also a quality of Jayce’s that he admires. He’s kind to everyone. Meets everyone halfway. Though at times they push too far, and Jayce lets them. Too kind for his own good.

Viktor shakes his head, trying to clean it, the stacked up piles of thoughts seem to have all spilled inside his brain and are rattling around. Rest. He needs to rest.

He looks at Jayce, who is still lying down on the couch, hands raised as if in surrender, big doe eyes staring at Viktor. Was Viktor too cross with him just now? He’s unable to determine. He pats Jayce’s knee in an attempt to smooth over his own prickly temperament.

“I just…I need to take a moment. Before I head out,” he tries. He hopes Jayce won’t insist. He is too tired to come up with reasonable arguments. He doesn’t wanna fight.

But Jayce doesn’t fight, he nods, then he bites his lip and opens his arms.

Hmm.

Viktor considers.

The couch is clearly too small for one grown man, let alone two.

Still it would be more comfortable than the chair.

And Viktor’s not averse to touch. Despite perhaps coming off as such. To everyone, except for Jayce.

It is true that he doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, especially unexpectedly. But he is human and just like for anyone else, there are moments when he would welcome touch. Moments when he finds it comforting. And Jayce is a very tactile person. He didn’t hold back from putting a hand on Viktor’s shoulder the very first day they met, and he hasn’t stopped since. There was a moment near the beginning of their partnership when someone pointed out Viktor’s (alleged) aversion to touch and Jayce panicked, apologizing profusely for making him uncomfortable, and it took days for Viktor to convince him he really didn’t mind. Because that was the truth, Viktor didn’t mind. Not when it was Jayce.

Of course cuddling on the couch was an entirely different matter.

They’ve never done that before, however, Viktor wasn’t a stranger to the comfort of a warm body next to his either.

From cuddling with his parents for warmth as a kid in one too small bed, to seeking the pleasures of a lover to relieve stress, the warmth of a body next to his was undoubtedly beneficial.

And he and Jayce are friends. It wouldn’t be a big deal.

And so Viktor slowly drops his cane to the floor and lowers one of his knees to the couch, trying to figure out how to arrange himself next to Jayce.

Jayce tries to help but it takes some maneuvering, what with Viktor’s leg and their sleep deprived brains, there are a couple of winces and pointy elbows and just way too many limbs, an “Oof” from Jayce when he earns a knee to his stomach, but eventually Viktor finds himself situated with his back against the back of the couch, his head on Jayce’s chest, right leg on top.

It’s…it’s warm.

It’s nice.

It’s not a big deal.

“Okay?” Jayce checks.

Viktor hums. He can hear Jayce’s heartbeat, feel his breath on his forehead. Smell the musk, the odor of an unshowered body, but he has no right to complain, they both haven’t showered for however many hours or days they’ve been locked in here.

Jayce’s heartbeat and breathing slows, but Viktor cannot slow his racing thoughts. He can feel every point of contact where their bodies are touching. He can feel Jayce’s muscular chest moving under his hand. Jayce’s right hand briefly pets Viktor’s hair before it settles on top of his shoulders. Viktor fights against the urge to burrow closer, to inhale Jayce’s smell, to tug his hand back into Viktor’s hair.

Stupid sleep deprived brain. Viktor could have figured such close proximity to a warm body would reduce him to animal instincts. He can only be glad he’s way too sleepy for his nether parts to react as well.

Jayce feels his restlessness. How could he not, pressed so close.

“Viktor,” he whispers, warm breath tickling Viktor’s forehead and despite himself Viktor exhales and melts against that strong chest even more. “You can rest, V, I’ll wake you in a couple of minutes and walk you home.”

My ass you will, Viktor thinks, we’re both gonna fall asleep here, your right side will be completely numb and my back will be killing me tomorrow. He’ll barely be able to stand. But he’s too tired and too comfortable to say any of that now. It’s a Tomorrow Viktor’s problem anyways. This Viktor burrow’s closer against Jayce’s chest, letting all his worries and all the problems fade, falling into the sweet embrace of sleep.

[mxtheialurks]

I'm here, baby. Avis Amberg x !Singer Reader

Hello there, so I noticed there were not a lot of Patti LuPone fics. Or... perhaps I have already read all of them...? But here it is, a 'Hollywood' fanfic between Avis Amberg and !Singer Reader.

Word count: 2928 Warnings: none

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

“Get your head out of the gutter, kid!” Ernie yells, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look down and realize with a jolt that you’ve overfilled a customer’s gas tank, the fuel spilling over the edges.

“Oh my God, Ernie! I’m so sorry, I—”

Ernie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Save it, kid. Go to my office. We need to have a little chat,” he says, his voice calm but heavy with disappointment.

From the small office window, you watch as Ernie talks to the man whose car you overfilled. Your stomach twists in knots as the man laughs, pulls out a crisp hundred-dollar bill, and drives off, still chuckling.

Inside, you sit anxiously, rubbing your temples as your mind spirals. Am I going to get fired? Suspended without pay? The possibilities whirl around your head like a storm until Ernie finally walks in. He lights a cigarette, inhales deeply, then coughs out the smoke.

Before you can say a word, he cuts you off. “Alright, what’s going on with you, Y/N? You’ve been so out of it lately. Did that guy say something to you? Something about... Dreamland?”

Your heart races, and a nervous sweat beads on your forehead. Ernie notices immediately, his expression softening as he drops to one knee in front of you.

“Tell me,” he says gently. “Did he?”

Tears spring to your eyes, and your voice wavers as you manage to stammer, “Yes, and I—I just froze...”

Without hesitation, Ernie pulls you into a hug, his large arms wrapping around you protectively. “There, there, kid,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “You know you don’t have to do anything like that, right? You’re here to help me out, not deal with people looking for a good time. That is not why you’re here.” He reminds you. 

He pulls back, his voice breaking slightly as he continues, “I know how hard it’s been at home since your mom—my sister—passed away.”

You sniffle, wiping your eyes, as Ernie stands up and pats your shoulder. “The guy whose tank you overfilled? He’s an old buddy of mine. Didn’t realize you were Martha’s daughter until I told him. He laughed it off and even handed me a hundred bucks as an apology.”

He reaches into his shirt pocket, pulls out the bill, and presses it into your hand. “Now, go wipe those tears and buy yourself something nice, okay?”

A small smile breaks through your tears as you hug him tightly.

“Happy 23rd birthday, kid,” he says softly, kissing your forehead.

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

After shedding your gas station uniform, you head to the town’s boutique, Uncle Ernie’s words ringing in your ears. It’s not often you get the chance—or the means—to splurge on yourself.

The boutique feels like another world, the faint scent of vanilla candles mixing with the polished wood floors and soft hum of instrumental music. Your gaze drifts instinctively to the rack where that dress once hung.

You’ve been dreaming about it for months—a red dress with a daring slit that cuts mid-thigh. It was perfect in every way, except for the price tag. You’d promised yourself you’d buy it someday, but that day never came. Life has a way of pushing dreams aside for bills and groceries.

“Looking for something, miss?” a cheerful clerk asks, breaking your thoughts.

“Yes,” you reply, hesitantly. “Do you still have that red dress? The one with the slit—”

Before you can finish, she nods knowingly. “Wait here.”

You tap your fingers against the counter as she disappears into the back. The minutes stretch long, and your heart pounds with a mix of hope and apprehension. Then she returns, holding it.

“Here you go,” she says with a smile, presenting the dress like it’s a treasure.

Your breath catches as you take it in your hands. The fabric is even softer than you remember, the color more vibrant. Without a second thought, you pull out your wallet, the crisp bills from Uncle Ernie making it possible.

Moments later, you step out of the boutique, a grin spreading across your face. The dress swings from your hand, a symbol of something rare and precious—joy that’s yours alone.

Back at your apartment, you hold the boutique bag in hand, still glowing with excitement when a voice startles you.

“What’d you get, kid?”

“AHHH!” you scream, nearly jumping out of your skin. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ernie! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaim, clutching your chest and gasping for air.

“What? Can’t an uncle visit his darling niece?” he replies, unbothered, taking a drag on his ever-present cigar.

“We just saw each other earlier! What do you want?” you ask, exasperated.

He chuckles, his laugh as gruff as his demeanor. “Well, kid, I figured you’d spend your birthday alone in this crappy apartment, so I’ve got a surprise for you. I’m taking you to dinner—me, you, Aunt Ellen, and my good friend Avis.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Avis? You mean Avis Amberg? The owner of Ace Studios?”

Ernie nods smugly.

“Why would a big shot like her come to a birthday dinner for someone she doesn’t even know? Ernie, I’m nobody—”

“Kid, nobody is nobody in this town,” he interrupts, jabbing the air for emphasis. “Once Avis meets you, she’ll see what I see—someone who’s something.”

You snort at his dramatics.

“Come on, Y/N,” he persists, rubbing your shoulders. “You’ve always wanted to be a singer, right? Who knows—maybe she’ll have you record backing tracks for her movies. Whaddya say, hmm?”

You let out a resigned sigh. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit!” he exclaims, slapping his thigh with glee. “Now doll up. Wear that sparkly red dress of yours—”

You freeze, narrowing your eyes at him. “Wait a minute. How do you know I have a ‘sparkly red dress’ in this bag?” You hold up the sheathed garment for emphasis.

Ernie smirks, his cigar bobbing in the corner of his mouth. “Kid, you’ve been gawking at that dress every time we passed Ursula’s boutique. You think I don’t notice? Besides,” he adds with a mischievous waggle of his eyebrows, “Ursula and I go way back.”

Your face twists in disgust as you chuck a shoe at him. He ducks out of the way, laughing as he retreats toward the door.

“See you at seven, kid! Don’t be late!” he calls out before disappearing with a slam of the door.

You sigh, glancing at the dress. “This better be worth it,” you mutter, already dreading the evening ahead.

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

Seven on the dot, just like Ernie said. You stand in front of the restaurant, purse clutched tightly in hand. The cool evening air does little to calm the nervous energy coursing through you. Dolled up and dressed to the nines, you mutter under your breath, “Simple birthday dinner, my ass.”

The thought of the Avis Amberg being inside makes your stomach twist. What if you say the wrong thing? Or laugh awkwardly?

After a minute of deliberation—and a deep, shaky breath—you step inside. Warm air envelops you, carrying with it the sweet and savory aromas of high-end cuisine. The soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses fills the room, but it does little to drown out your own thoughts.

At the front desk, you muster your courage. “Reservation for Ernest West?”

The receptionist smiles and nods, promptly leading you to a private room.

On the way there, your thoughts race. A private room? How much did Ernie shell out for this? And with Avis Amberg as an audience? You grip your purse tighter. Oh boy, this is going to be interesting.

The doors to the room swing open, revealing a warm and intimate space. Ernie is the first to greet you, his arms wide as he strides toward you with his trademark exuberance.

“There she is! The woman of the hour!” he exclaims, pulling you into a hearty hug.

Your eyes sweep over the table. To Ernie’s right sits Ellen Kincaid, his ever-gracious wife, offering you a warm smile. Beside Ellen is none other than Avis Amberg herself. The moment your gaze lands on her, it’s as though the world stops spinning.

Avis is a vision in red, every detail impeccable—from her perfectly coiffed updo to the shimmering jewelry that catches the light with every movement. You glance down at your own dress, also red, and feel a pang of insecurity. Great, of all colors to wear tonight...

But Avis is unfazed, her sharp eyes already reading you, assessing you in a way that makes your palms sweat.

Ernie, oblivious to your internal panic, guides you to the table and pulls out a chair. Ellen stands to greet you, kissing both your cheeks warmly, while Avis remains seated, her gaze fixed on you like a hawk sizing up its prey.

When your eyes finally meet, she smiles—a slow, deliberate curve of her lips. Extending her hand, she says, “And you must be the birthday girl.”

You take her hand, shaking it a little too eagerly. “I am—”

“Avis Amberg,” you finish for her, your voice steady despite your nerves.

Her smile sharpens into a grin, her grip firm but elegant. “Well, well, looks like someone did their homework.”

You laugh awkwardly, the sound escaping before you can stop it. Realizing how unpolished it sounds, you quickly cease, pressing your lips together. Ernie catches it, grinning as he moves to his seat. He leans down to kiss Ellen, who playfully smacks his chest.

“Avis, you know us Wests. We always do our homework, ain’t that right, sweetheart?” he says with a wink in Ellen’s direction.

She chuckles, shaking her head. “Yes, darling, you do. Oh, Avis, if I haven’t mentioned it yet, our darling Y/N here is an aspiring singer—with a voice that could bring down stadiums.”

Avis raises a perfectly arched brow, her red lips curving into a faint smile as she looks at you. “Hmm? If Ellen here speaks so highly of you, perhaps I should have you perform at one of my events.”

Your face flushes as a nervous smile spreads across your lips. “Oh no, Miss. Amberg, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you ramble, trying to wave off the compliment. “Singing is more of a hobby, really. I couldn’t possibly be as good as Ellen says.”

Ellen and Ernie exchange incredulous looks.

“Nonsense, kid!” Ernie exclaims, his voice booming with pride. “I’ve heard you sing plenty while working the register, and believe me, my customers stick around just to hear you. Take some credit for once, will ya?”

His laughter fills the room, and even Avis seems amused as she leans forward, her interest clearly piqued.

“You let your niece work at your gas station, Ernie?” she asks, her tone half-curious, half-teasing. “How is it that I’ve never seen her?”

Ernie smirks, waving his hand dismissively. “That’s because you never get out of your goddamn Cadillac, Avis!”

The table bursts into laughter, and for a moment, the tension in your chest eases. Still, the realization dawns on you: Avis Amberg is a regular at Golden Tip.

No wonder the boys at the station always seemed to have a little extra spring in their step, boasting about their big tips from “the lady in red.” So it was her all along—the powerful woman who spent money like it grew on trees.

As the laughter dies down, Avis rests her chin on her hand, her sharp gaze locking onto you. “Well, Y/N, it sounds like you’ve been hiding a talent that the world deserves to hear.”

Her words make your heart race, but the warmth in her tone sparks something new: hope.

“Thank you, Miss Amberg,” you say, your tone polite but still tinged with nervousness.

“Oh, baby,” she waves a hand dismissively, her bracelets jangling softly, “you may call me Avis. You’re making my back ache with all the pleasantries.”

You chuckle lightly, a genuine smile breaking through as you nod. “Well then, thank you, Avis.”

Her lips curl into a grin, pleased by your adjustment. “That’s better,” she says, leaning back in her chair with an air of satisfaction. “Now, tell me, Y/N—what’s your favorite song to sing?”

Her question catches you off guard, and you falter for a moment. “Oh, well, I guess it depends,” you say, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “I like singing jazz, mostly. Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald… their music speaks to me.”

Avis’s eyes light up, the mention of such timeless legends clearly striking a chord. “Ah, the classics,” she says, a touch of admiration in her voice. “Music that comes from the soul. You have good taste.”

Ernie beams at the exchange, clearly proud of you. “See, Avis? Told you the kid’s got it. I’d bet my bottom dollar she could belt out something right here and knock our socks off.”

You quickly shake your head, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Oh, no, I couldn’t! Not here, not now,” you stammer. “I mean, I’m flattered, but I’m not exactly… prepared.”

Ellen chimes in with a gentle laugh, “Oh, don’t mind Ernie. He loves putting people on the spot. But if you ever want to perform, Y/N, I’m sure Avis would love to hear you.”

Avis nods, swirling her glass of wine thoughtfully. “Indeed. There’s something about live music, especially when it comes from a genuine place. You’d be surprised how often talent like yours gets lost in the noise of this town.”

Her words carry weight, and for a moment, you feel as though she’s speaking directly to your deepest fears. Lost in the noise. Ernie, ever the optimist, claps his hands together. “Lost? Not this kid! She’s got a voice people’ll remember. Ain’t that right, Y/N?”

You give a shy smile, nodding slightly. “I guess so. I mean… I hope so.”

Avis’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before she raises her glass. “To hope, then. And to talent that deserves a stage.”

Everyone joins in the toast, raising their glasses with a clink. You sip your drink, the warmth of the moment settling into your chest. For the first time tonight, you feel like you truly belong at the table.

The dinner continued with laughter, stories, and a surprising ease that settled over the table. Ernie, true to form, dominated the conversation with his larger-than-life anecdotes, and Ellen balanced him out with her gentle humor. Avis occasionally chimed in, her remarks sharp and observant, but never unkind.

By the time dessert arrived, you were almost convinced you could get through the night without further incident. That is, until Avis set down her fork, leaned forward, and fixed you with a look that felt both intimidating and encouraging.

“Y/N,” she began, her tone measured, “tell me, what do you really want? In this town, I mean. Surely you’re not content to spend your life working at your uncle’s gas station.”

The question landed heavily, and the table went quiet. Ernie gave you a small nod of encouragement, while Ellen offered a reassuring smile.

You swallowed, your fingers gripping the edge of your napkin. “I… I want to sing,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to perform. To be out there in front of many people, the spotlight is only for me. My voice ringing deliciously in their ears, I want to become a broadway star” 

Avis studied you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Watching you enunciate every word, how your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth. Her gaze lingers for a while there and when you finally finish she meets your eyes with enthusiasm. 

“Let me tell you something about this town,” she said, her voice soft but commanding. “It doesn’t matter who you know—or don’t know. What matters is how badly you want it and what you’re willing to do to get it. Talent can only take you so far. The rest? That’s grit.”

You nodded, absorbing her words, though a part of you still doubted your place in a world as ruthless as hers.

Avis seemed to sense this. “You’ve got a spark, Y/N. I can see it. The question is, what are you going to do with it?”

Before you could answer, Ernie jumped in, his voice full of enthusiasm. “That’s what I’ve been telling her! She’s got the goods, Avis. She just needs the right person to see it.”

Avis’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Well, Ernie, perhaps that person is sitting right here.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You mean…?”

“I mean,” Avis said, setting her glass down, “I’m planning a charity gala next month. I always need fresh talent for Ace Studios. I have been thinking about it, expanding from motion pictures to Broadway plays and musical numbers. It’s not a guarantee, but if you’re willing to audition, I could give you a shot.”

The room seemed to tilt as her words sank in. An audition? For Avis Amberg? It felt too good to be true.

You managed a shaky nod. “I—I’d love to. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Avis said, her tone playful but firm. “The real work starts now, baby.”

------------------------------------------------------------ A/N: Will do a part two or more if you're interested in reading more. Hehe.

[grimaldiapologist]

Hi, my freeranged and appropriately enriched audience. I need to talk about something real big bad and I think I've already ended all of my friendships for this reason, so I'm doing it here instead.

This scene? After Colosseum?

There's so many things going on in this scene, and for the love of everything that is holy, in order to talk about any of it, I've clipped Macrinus out of the picture because he doesn't exist.

I'll start with the fact that, while these two are described as somewhat pathologically paranoid, this is the first day we see them living through that gives them significant reason to be worried. Most days, they seem to coast by being both terminally naïve and endlessly isolationist in terms of their company, focusing solely on each other and themselves, particularly their hedonistic pursuits, while assuming that everybody they surround themselves with loves them, for whatever reason. Everything is going great for them as far as they're perceiving it. They don't know the audiences are not cheering for them - they take every cheer as if it was aimed at them. Presenting Acacius at the Colosseum for the first day of the games? They receive no applause beyond what the audience is already dishing out upon their introductions. But producing Marcus Acacius has the audience heated, and these two somehow think that's for them. They're idiots. Morons. They're so stuck in their own delusions of grandeur that yes, while they do recognise they're in Rome and Roman emperors have a terrible tendency to catch a blade, they don't seem to be actually living that reality at all.

What we know from the script is, however, that they have never truly known stability or safety: his whole life, Geta has been shielding Caracalla from their father's explosive anger. Caracalla, presumably, has witnessed this if nothing else, though I'm curious about that golden tooth within this context. I'm sure he's caught some inbetween there, too, because Geta can only afford so much shield from a grown man. And they've never had any protection from any of that. Nobody would stand up to an emperor to protect a prince; they were his rightful property. He could do with his boys whatever he pleased, and Geta's sole duty has been, it seems, not to survive, but ensure that his brother does. His pain has never mattered. His rights, needs, wants, wishes have never mattered. Caracalla's have.

I'm sure they used to be at each other's throats like the wolf pups that they are when they were younger. But what you can see with them in their early adulthood is that this is something that does not apply anymore. They'll hurt anybody else, particularly anyone they perceive as hostile to them, and most often it's done just for fun and pleasure. This makes Caracalla's fetish for watching violence particularly interesting - what with the complex relationship kinks and fetishes can often have with prior trauma, feelings of powerlessness, and attempts to regain control - but that's for a wholly different meta there. What I'm getting at is that it's always others they inflict cruelty upon, and enjoy, but never each other; there is an absolute dynamic between them, it's them against the world, them for one another. Geta's first duty is to protect Caracalla, and Caracalla trusts him implicitly. At least before this scene.

While script!Geta has less patience for his brother than Quinn's Geta does, there is never any doubt there who and what his priority is. Caracalla comes first to him. So, it's safe to say that with Dondus screaming, when he flings his water in Caracalla's face, it's never with the intent of hitting him. I have sensory issues and I'll be the first to admit I've thrown things when my processing threshold is violently crossed and it's something you just don't second-guess, like someone hitting your knee joint with a hammer. But regardless of intent, the consequences are so very interesting. And I'm sure Caracalla, even, knows that this wasn't intentional. Dear gods though, look at his reaction.

This is the face of someone telling you you have crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed.

And, for the sake of my sanity, I need to make sure everybody understands that Caracalla's way to emphasise just how much things have broken here is to say absolutely nothing, leave the room, and go cry under a table. Terrifying. But I digress; what is terrifying is Geta, after this has happened.

This is the face of a man who has crossed a boundary of his own, and it has quite little to do with the previous. Yes, Caracalla is angry at him, and there will be consequences in some form. Again, for now, the consequences are that he's chosen to become inconsolable and hide under furniture, likely much as he did when their father had his rages. But Geta, for the first time in his life, broke out of his role of a protector, and the one to be beaten.

He's realised that Caracalla is not untouchable. And for ages, he doesn't move, because his whole world has shaken here; and what he does then to justify his actions is blame his brother for them. Caracalla did absolutely nothing to earn what he did to him, but it's now his fault, for being so unstable. A liability. How could Caracalla make him do this to him, truly.

This evening, Geta's been brought face to face with his reality: he is not loved. He is not untouchable. While he can mandate the word of gods, he is not, himself, regarded as a god. Not like he deserves. Not like he should be. He's suffered so much - but he is a great man, and he knows this. He's not stupid, and he's a conqueror, albeit from his comfortable seat at home. But he deserves better.

And what, pray, is standing in the way? What is holding him back? His brother is. Caracalla, who is always embarrassing him. Who is his first and last responsibility each day and each night, who needs him to watch his every move, to keep him safe not only from the world but from himself and his own instability, his insanity, his unpredictable actions. Without Caracalla, Geta could be focusing on being an emperor. He could be achieving so much more than he is, if he wasn't his brother's constant, eternal keeper, his babysitter, his court jester. And he deserves more, doesn't he? He deserves to be remembered.

So, let Macrinus (who doesn't exist as you can see from the screenshots) handle Caracalla this time. Geta has an empire to think of.

And this, this is what interests me about this scene more than anything. For Caracalla's part, things seem at a glance much more benign, though no less broken: the one thing he took as certain as air has fallen apart - that his brother would always stand for him first, and would never lay a finger on him to hurt him. His brother, who bled for him, protected him from their father, and has ever since looked after him, elevated him to the highest status, aside from some... minor symptoms of hubris, of course. But while all of this hurts him, deeply, fundamentally, it isn't enough to make him immediately see Geta as his enemy.

And I can't stop asking - should he? Should he now regard Geta as his enemy? His whole world is collapsing. It's from this very moment onwards (yes, this one, specifically) that he begins to show symptoms of acute psychosis: delusions, paranoia, severe lapses in reality, memory, and continuity. He doesn't look like he sleeps either, but of course, other factors come into play with that part. (And gods know I don't blame him for that.)

Geta was his foundation, his bedrock. They were in this together, whatever happened. Yes, they bicker, but they've always known how that goes: Geta's patience is endless with Caracalla, and Caracalla's thirst for violence is not turned towards him, even at its worst. Geta has no issues turning his back to Caracalla in the state that he is while the man is wielding a sword and doing god knows what with it in the background. Not for one second does Geta flinch when coming between Caracalla, his sword, and a man he's already condemned to die, because Caracalla would never harm him, either.

But after this? After the first blow, however small? What then?

I'm just asking questions here. This could lead onto the next subject - the way Caracalla's whole demeanor changes when he inflicts the first wound on his brother and finds that he bleeds just the same - but I'm keeping that to me for now.

[mamawasatesttube]

Janet lives au my beloved, I love the difference in the Janet lives vs the Jack lives au :)

Happy holidays! :D

thanks, happy holidays to you too!!!

also aughgh right??? there is so much to ponder wrt janet our collective beloved janet... i think often about this. like. his issues with jack would both shrink and grow because on the one hand jack is no longer actively around to do shit to feed into tim's many complexes. on the other hand, he now has jack up on the Perfect Dad pedestal in his mind because he's dead. can't criticize your dead dad that's fucked up and horrible. right?

and on the other hand. man. so lets posit he has a better relationship with janet than he would with jack (because janet is a better parent than jack, and let's be real, that isn't really a high bar. but given jack's... everything, i just kinda really get the vibe that he left most of the actual parenting to janet). now at first you'd think this is solely a good thing! ...but can you imagine how much more agonized tim is about having to lie to his beloved mommy???? all the time??? he's even more torn between The Mission and his filial piety this time around!!! augh!!!

like all those times jack didnt notice tim hiding bruises with makeup ? if janet's around it is sooo possible that tim steals HER makeup for this specifically at least once and She. Notices. deeply possible that she puts together "tim showing up with mysterious injuries he keeps trying to hide and also lying to me about it" with "tim getting closer with dick grayson and bruce wayne while i was away" and deduces that she doesn't know WHAT they've gotten her little baby boy into, but she IS going to kill those guys. tim keeps insisting that they're very nice to him but that really isn't helping anything. but just the entire concept of janet actually paying attention to tim's injuries - noticing if he steals her makeup!!! - or paying attention to things like. *checks notes* one of his classmates being SHOT DEAD at their SCHOOL ???? hey jack how did you not even check on him once after this. whats wrong with you. i just wanna talk jack

so i think she'd find out tim's robin way faster than jack. he probably would agonize about wanting her to know but The Mission and the need for secrecy, etc. but notably, when she finds out, i don't think she'd force him to quit - she'd really really want him to, because this is so dangerous and he's her baby and she doesn't want him to get hurt!!! but if he pushed back and tried to explain his side of it, she'd actually be willing to at least hear him out (unlike jack).

but also. not to be predictable but. i think it would be really funny if at some point during this drama kon-el shows up on the front doorstep looking for robin, and eavesdrops just enough to understand that janet knows now. because. hear me out. this is how we once again arrive at tim walking into his own house and home and just balking because kon is at the kitchen table hanging out with his mother. mom why the heck are you giving superboy my oreos!!!!

(also, calling back a little to the concept of baby kon somehow befriending janet, but. very specific vision in my mind of "janet lives past identity crisis too au" where at some point baby kon mentions to tim in her earshot that hes never had a mom and wonders whats it like?? and she doesnt say anything but this strikes her to the heart. several years down the line when timkon are established at some point she's like conner sweetie i know a long time back you said you don't have a mother, and i understand that completely and don't mean to try and take any place in your life you don't want me in, but if you ever would like to have a mother-in-law… and tim is just like. MOM. ARE YOU TRYING TO PROPOSE TO KON FOR ME??? THIS IS SO CRINGE. UGH MOM STOP)

[lost-romantique]

Why did they have to make Stolas' mental breakdown over being poor, so fucking hilarious. I feel like such a piece of shit for laughing as hard as I did.

Stolas, babe, it's okay. I also cried when I had to work my first customer service job. But like can we talk about how everyone just cringes at Stolas' reaction. Blitz's face literally screams, "Oh shit, the love of my life is an ex-Prince, and the best I can do is have him work receptionist."

"Answer it! Answer it! You can do it, Stolas, come on, answer the phone!"

Blitz using baby-talk to encourage Stolas to pick up the phone, than proceeds to be his boyfriend's biggest goddamn cheerleader is everything. If my man ain't this supportive, I don't want him.

"Hello, I.M.P?"

"Yes, we can kill your asshole."

"Immediately, just bring it here."

The way Stolas looks to Blitz for emotional support, and Blitz is just cheering him on, so goddamn proud of his birb.

"Thank you. Good day ma'am."

*collapses head on table*

"Uuuhhh... Close enough! Good job buddy!"

Blitz awkwardly patting his boyfriend on the head for a job well done. Stolas did so well for his first time! Now all he needs to do is write it down, and answer the phone without crying and he'll be golden.

Stolas' Entitlement is so Funny to me...

Stolas is presented as so well put together most of the series, and down to earth for the most part, that I think a lot of the general audience do forget that Stolas is literally a motherfucking Prince that has had a silver spoon for the entirety of his life.

This fucking man just had bacon, ham, scrambled eggs, and pancakes prepared by the man he loves, and I'm gonna be blunt, THE FOOD BLITZ MADE LOOKS FUCKING DELICIOUS by Hell standards.

"Normally I dine on a custom diet prepared by my waiting staff; full of essential nutrients and freshly prepared rarities, such as roasted vole or... Fire koi?

I cannot be the only person who has no idea whatever the fuck Stolas just said...

*Blitz look at him with his undivided attention*

"A fresh kale salad?"

"Oh, nice. Anything that I can get that's affordable?"

The fact that Blitz just straight out said that he can't afford the food Stolas usually eats, so when Stolas asks for rats, Blitz just obliges and takes the food away.

Motherfucker I've only seen you eat cereal.

"Really? Wow, rich people don't have any fun do they?"

"No, fun is free, but WE can afford nice things."

Stolas, not beating the "rich privileged asshole" allegations with that line, that's for sure. This is literally the most offensive thing I have ever heard come out of his mouth, and I am here for it.

"You know what might help that privileged little attitude? Paperwork!"

Simp Blitz is a fucking godsend because if someone who was crashing at my place said that shit to me...

"Eugh, you have to spend your holiday at work?"

Yes Stolas, it's called living paycheck to paycheck, and soon you'll have to join the fray.

"You could use a little money coming in, right?"

"Money coming in?"

"Oh lords... I'M POOR NOW!"

*sobs*

"FUCK!"

I find it so fucking funny that Stolas has been living on Blitzø's couch for an entire month, but it took Blitzø putting him in front of a telephone to realize that he's poor.

If it makes Stolas feel any better, since he is technically dating the boss, maybe he can just 😏 to get a little extra something... something.

[oldsoul007]

whispers

joel miller x reader

summary: y/n sees someone she’d thought she’d never see again

joel miller masterlist

The world had changed. That was something me and Joel knew all too well. Decades had passed since the outbreak—since everything we once knew had crumbled. But, as with all storms, there came a time when the skies cleared, and the silence after the chaos was almost as deafening as the screams had been.

I hadn’t expected to find him, not here, in this small town where I had relocated to escape the past and search for peace. I lived in a modest house on the outskirts of what used to be a bustling city—now a quiet, semi-abandoned place. It was one of the few communities where life seemed to have some semblance of normalcy again. People worked the fields, traded goods, and occasionally gathered around campfires in the evenings, sharing stories and building new memories. But I had never imagined I would run into someone from my old life here.

I had heard whispers of a man named Joel Miller—a name I hadn’t thought about in years. Joel. She remembered the way his laugh used to fill a room, his strong hands, the kind of man who could hold a gun as easily as he could hold a child’s hand. The memories of him came flooding back, but with them, came the painful reminder of the world that was lost.

It had been over twenty years since the outbreak, since everything had fallen apart, and I hadn’t heard his name once in all that time. He’d been a part of my life before the chaos, and then, just like everything else, he’d disappeared into the dark recesses of my mind, buried under the weight of survival. There was no time for reminiscing then. There were only the daily battles for food, shelter, and safety.

But now, here we were—two people standing on the other side of that storm.

It was late one afternoon when she saw him. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the dusty road that led to the town square. I had just returned from trading some produce at the local market when a familiar figure caught my eye.

Joel.

It took a moment for my mind to register the sight, but when it did, my heart skipped. He was older, of course, his hair graying and his face lined with age and hardship. But it was him—there was no mistaking those broad shoulders, that confident stance. He looked as if time had been kind to him in some ways, cruel in others.

My heart clenched as I hesitated, not sure if I should approach. I had to remind myself that the person I once knew was likely long gone. The man standing in front of me had survived the same brutal world I had—perhaps even in the same way. We had both adapted, changed, become someone else entirely. But in that moment, it didn’t matter. The past, the scars, the brokenness—we all seemed distant, like something trapped in another lifetime.

He looked up then, his eyes meeting mine. For a moment, he just stared, as if he too were unsure if he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. And then his face softened. “Y/n,” he said, his voice rough but familiar.

My breath caught. It felt like a lifetime had passed since anyone had called me by that name in a way that mattered. A name spoken in love, in comfort, not survival.

“Joel,” I whispered, taking a tentative step forward.

His eyes searched mine for a moment, as if to confirm that I was real. Then, with a small, half-smile, he closed the distance between us. His presence felt like both a weight and a relief, grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he said, his voice low.

“Neither did I,” I replied, my voice almost a whisper.

We stood there for a long moment, unsure of what to say next, unsure of who we were now. But it didn’t matter. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of history, full of shared memories that neither of us had ever been able to talk about.

Finally, Joel spoke again. “You… you still remember the old days? Before everything changed?”

I nodded slowly. “I try not to. But, yeah, I remember. Sometimes, it feels like a dream. Or maybe it’s the world that’s the dream.”

Joel chuckled softly, his gaze distant for a moment as if remembering the same things I was. “I remember when we thought we had time. When we thought the world could never get so bad. How naive we were.”

I smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “I remember our first date. I didn’t even know if it was a date at the time. I thought you were just helping me out because I was new in town.” I paused, shaking my head. “Turns out you were a lot more than that.”

Joel’s face softened. “Yeah, I guess I was. You were always good at making things feel normal, even when everything around us was falling apart.”

We both stood there, processing the weight of the words and the years between us. There was no rush to speak, no need to fill the silence with unnecessary chatter. We had already shared enough in our lives—grief, loss, and survival. What they had now, what they could build, was something new. Something fragile but beautiful.

“I never thought I’d see a place like this again,” I said after a moment, glancing around at the now-quiet town square. “I thought I’d spend the rest of my days running from everything that happened.”

“You’re not the only one,” Joel said quietly, his eyes flicking down to the dirt road beneath our feet. “But, somehow, we’re still here.”

I took a deep breath, my heart aching with all the things we hadn’t yet spoken. “Do you think it’s possible to go back?” I asked, my voice small.

Joel’s eyes met mine again, and this time, there was a softness there that hadn’t been there before. “I don’t know. But I think we can find something new. Something worth living for.”

We stood together, looking out at the remnants of the town we once knew. The wind whispered through the trees, and the sky was still—peaceful, for the first time in a long while.

And for the first time in decades, I allowed myself to believe in the possibility of a future. Not the one I had once dreamed of, but one where the echoes of the past could coexist with the hope of something better. Maybe, just maybe, the storm had passed, and there was room for something beautiful to grow in its place.

Joel’s hand brushed mine, and I took it, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip. No words were needed. Our past had shaped us, but it didn’t define them. We had each other now, and that was enough.

The world had changed, but so had we.

[poetry-protest-pornography]

Talking with @respectthepetty about the finale, and I think I've figured out my biggest sticking point.

We see the incredible care and love that Kan shows his patients, and Tew's mom in particular. We see him ask her for confirmation multiple times. He brushes her hair, asks her if she has any worries, promises to take care of Tew for her.

He calls her Mom. She cradles his cheek. He sits with her while she falls asleep.

We see this scene play out, we feel Kan's compassion for her, we feel his need to help.

And when he and Tew have their confrontation, he says all of this. He talks about how much it hurts to see people struggle with unbearable pain, how the system doesn't care about how well or how poorly people are living, doesn't care about what people want for their life. He gives an impassioned defense of the need for euthanasia to be made legal.

He tells Tew that his mother died the way she wanted to, that she passed peacefully and on her terms. He tells him that she wanted him to be happy.

And we don't see Tew truly understand any of that. We don't get to see him even really process any of it.

I didn't need or expect Tew to become a supporter of euthanasia, or to even fully forgive and understand what Kan did and why he did it. But it seems like what we got instead was Tew accepting his feelings for Kan, and acknowledging that.

So that "I love you" felt... Misplaced.

What good does a confession do when you've got the man you're in love with handcuffed, on your way to turn him into the police.

(The confrontation itself was beautifully done and it hurt all my feelings. But I'm not sure it was in the right place? There was no room to see them struggling with and processing it. Kan's sad nod of acknowledgement and no response was the correct response, but it was also mine, quick I think is not the desired effect.)

Also, Kan volunteerimg to turn himself in, without arguing for his patients who need him -- in his hospital that is desperately short staffed, in which he is the only palliative care doctor; a point that has been made over and over in the series -- also felt off.

I would've been happier with an ambiguous ending, maybe even the exact same one, where we didn't see the cuffs, and weren't sure what was next for them.

(from my understanding, this is basically the opposite of the source material? There's also the comments from the screenwriter that have kind of left an annoyed filter over all my thoughts about the show, but I digress)

Honestly, I may have been okay(er) with the outcome if we had had more of their relationship development on screen, more of them trying to understand each other (that felt very one sided in the end).

Idk.

The show was beautiful, beautifully acted, and had some very important things to say, and it made its arguments well considering the lines they had to tow. But the politics and the moral struggle of the show were embodied in Kan and Tew, and the culmination of that struggle feels like it wasn't given enough space.