#i really really really hope that this does not become

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Actor

The Golden Age of Hollywood. Stars are born every day and you're desperate to become one. Thanks to @laboodanda for requesting this!

Yandere! Actor who's well established in the industry - his name on the Walk of Fame, his face on all the posters, his agents calling day and night with new offers.

Yandere! Actor who meets you on the set of his latest movie. You're barely even part of the main cast - just a side character with a few lines. But you sparkle.

You have that razzle dazzle in you that makes a true star.

Yandere! Actor who knows it's just a matter of time before you make it big. You've already got your foot in the door and all it takes is a lucky break.

Yandere! Actor who comes up to talk to you during lunch, winks at you and grins at the way you blush. You're in awe of him and it takes a second before you can answer his questions.

Yandere! Actor who's used to starstruck fans, to women who shriek when he looks their way. But, it's somehow new and endearing when you're the one looking at him like that.

He can hear the other extras rushing to your side when he leaves, babbling about how lucky you are that he talked to you, the big stars never notice the little fish.

On the final day of filming, he congratulates you on your first ever role and invites you to dinner to celebrate.

Yandere! Actor who takes you to a cozy restaurant in a quiet seaside neighbourhood. He doesn't want to be interrupted by fans, but he also doesn't want to be seen in public with you. At least not yet.

You really impress him. You know quite a lot about acting techniques, about getting into and maintaining character, about catering to the camera.

But it's clear you're still a rookie. There's a slight nervousness to you that veteran starletts don't have. It's alright - he'll train it out of you in no time.

Yandere! Actor who shares he milkshake with you and offers you his jacket when the sea wind starts to nip.

When he drops you off, he squeezes your thigh and says he'll talk to his agent about you, that there might be a role in his next movie for such a pretty little thing.

Yandere! Actor who sees the innocent, love struck look in your eyes and revels in it.

Pretty soon he calls you and tells you about a private audition with some studio execs.

"Keep your hair loose and wear that short sundress you wore on our date."

It should be friendly advice, so why does it sound like an order?

The audition is in one of the studio's offices. A room filled with big shot executives and egotistical directors. Men in suits who are high on their own power, their own genius. They've seen a thousand hopeful girls and to them you're no different.

The way they look at you makes you feel like dirt, like the most untalented person in the whole world. You would have walked out then and there if it wasn't for him.

Yandere! Actor who volunteers to read the lines with you. He winks and smiles at you and by just being there makes you feel so much better. And a few sentences in, you find your stride. Immerse yourself in the scene.

You're playing the part of a jilted lover, a woman who gave everything to her man and has her heart shattered when he leaves. In the final act, you grab his collar and look up at him with tears in your eyes, your voice shaking.

"Please, please don't go. I love you. I need you."

You raise one hand to his cheek, your fingers trembling. "Don't you love me too?"

Yandere! Actor who actually forgets his line.

You're looking up at him so weak, so vulnerable that his mind goes blank. His director calls out the line and he repeats it blankly.

"And...End scene!"

Yandere! Actor who doesn't look away from you even when the directors start clapping and you turn to give them a bow. You were so raw that it didn't feel like a performance. The tears, the desperate way you pulled at him... It felt so real.

It's only when his agent slaps him on the back that he manages to snap out of it.

The director is already grabbing your arm and insisting to the studio executives that he needs you in his next movie.

Yandere! Actor who comes up behind you and drapes his arms around your shoulders. You don't realise it but he's staking his claim, showing all these rich and powerful men that anything to do with you has to go through him. He grins at his agent.

"She's perfect, isn't she?"

The man lowers his shades and drags his eyes across your body.

"You need to clean up her look a little, but you were right. She's the perfect girl for you."

You feel like there's more behind their conversation, things they've discussed that you aren't privy to. But you don't have the nerve to ask.

On your way out of the studio, Yandere! Actor curls his arm around your waist.

"You're gonna be a lead actress soon baby. The execs want you in a few supporting roles first, just to get you used to the camera, but the director has his mind set on you."

You smile at him, a megawatt grin filled with the thrill of having your dream come true. It makes him feel like the centre of your world, makes him feel like a man.

You throw your arms around his neck and hug him. "I owe you! Thank you thank you thank you thank -"

He cuts you off with a kiss. And in that moment you really do feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Yandere! Actor who slowly takes over your beauty routine. Who tells your hairdresser exactly what shade to tint your hair, exactly what shape to thread your eyebrows. Who buys you new clothes and tells you exactly how to style them.

You don't realise it, but he's shaping your look into something that compliments his own.

Yandere! Actor who almost invites you to his movie premiere until his agent advises against it. Who kisses you and apologises and says he'll bring you to the next one.

You understand, you really do. You're still relatively unknown and having you on his arm would just invite gossip. But it still stings watching him go to the premier on his own, his arm around his beautiful co-star. You go to bed that night with doubts nagging at your mind.

It's only when you hear him knocking at your door at three in the morning that your insecurities go silent.

Yandere! Actor who's still wearing his tuxedo from the red carpet. His hair falling out of its slicked back style as he dangles a bottle of champagne in front of you.

"Gotta celebrate with my girl."

He's barely three steps into your apartment before he's kissing you, his hands on your waist and dropping lower.

You try and push him away. Tell him it's your first time.

Yandere! Actor who nips at your neck. "Don't worry, 'm gonna be so gentle."

When you still try and slip away, he pulls back to look in your eyes. Despite the haze of alcohol, there's something piercing about the way he looks at you.

"How many girls can say their first time was with a Hollywood star?"

Yandere! Actor who let's his fingers climb higher up your thighs.

"I've been workin' so hard to make you an actress. Don't I get a reward?"

How are you supposed to say no to a man who holds your future in his palm? You nod your head just the slightest and he's back to kissing you, back to drawing you hands to his belt, back to growling in your ear.

Yandere! Actor who's a shameless liar. He isn't gentle with you at all.

Yandere! Actor who wakes up all groggy and hungover the next morning. Who pulls you closer to him and falls asleep again with his head on your chest. You look down at his dark hair and his chiseled features and for a little while, it doesn't feel like such a bad deal. Love him in exchange for a career.

And he is so easy to love.

Yandere! Actor who encourages the director to start filming your movie as soon as possible. A romance between a thief (you, in your very first lead role) and a jaded detective with a heart of gold (him, who's had so many lead roles he's lost count).

The schedule is gruelling and the director is a tyrant, but this is your big break. You give it everything you have. You learn the script inside and out, badger the screen writer until she discusses your character arc with you, follow the director around and beg him for tips.

Yandere! Actor who adores working with you. You're sweet and pliable and the chemistry between you is sizzling. Every scene with you makes him need a cold shower and a priestly intervention.

Yandere! Actor who pulls you into his trailer every chance he gets to "read lines." But it always ends with him holding you down and kissing you, claiming it's good practice for the camera.

"Character building," he pants from between your legs. "Just getting into the mindset."

Yandere! Actor who watches with satisfaction as the movie comes along. You remind him of himself when he just started, raw talent and a burning desire to please.

Yandere! Actor who is next to you every moment he isn't needed on set. Who gives you endless advice and makes you laugh with his stories about bad takes and wardrobe malfunctions.

Part of it is to keep an eye on you - there's a jealous bit inside him that thinks of you as his creation, your talent a reflection of his training - and part of it is to spark rumours.

It works exactly as he intends. Pretty soon the magazines and radio hosts are blabbering about a possible romance between him and his relatively unknown co-star.

Yandere! Actor who's determined to make this movie a success. On the premier night, he walks down the red carpet with his arm around your waist. When the cameras are at the height of their flashing, he takes your chin in his hand and kisses you.

The next morning, the papers are raving about it and the theatres are sold out before midday.

It's a critical and commercial success. Yandere! Actor who's high on the thrill of it. Who loves driving down Hollywood Boulevard and seeing you on the billboards, who loves having Hollywood's newest darling on his arm and in his bed.

But then the letters start coming.

Yandere! Actor who snarls at the piles and piles of fan mail you receive. Maybe, if it was all innocent praise, he could have accepted it. But most of the letters are absolutely filthy.

Men writing to you from all over the country, all over the world. Describing in detail all the things they want to do to you, all the ways they want you speared on their cocks. Men who promise to treat you so sweet you'd never want to leave them and men who threaten to whip you over their knee if you don't learn to say please when they fuck you.

Yandere! Actor who's never received mail with such perversion. His fans are mostly sweet young girls who timidly describe how nice it would be to find a man like him, to get taken to prom and courted.

Yandere! Actor who becomes suspicious of every man he sees. The gaffer that looks at you too long becomes the guy who promised to find you and fill your cunt with his come. The driver who holds your hand when you climb out of the car becomes the stalker who followed you home the other night.

Yandere! Actor who keeps his arm around you whenever you're outside. Who starts keeping his gun in the glove box of his car.

It's not only strangers he needs to worry about either. The studio executives keep pressuring you with stricter and stricter contract offers. The director wants you starring in a romance role with another man. Two dozen talent agencies are crawling over glass to try and sign you.

Yandere! Actor who tells you to let him handle the contracts and paper work.

"The bastards will try and trick you out of your money and your clothes. Trust me baby, I've had to deal with plenty of shitty deals. I don't want that for you."

Yandere! Actor who knows exactly how tightly binding a contract is. And it's no coincidence that the one he has you sign binds your career almost entirely to his. It ensures that the bulk of your roles are alongside him, that he has the final say in studio disputes, that he owns the rights to your name.

The studio executives might normally never sign a deal like that, but they're desperate to get you under contract. You're a blazing star and they aren't going to lose you to a competitor.

Yandere! Actor who drinks a toast to your success and kisses you infront of all those high flying executives. Despite all the attention and awards you've earned, you still look up at him with a blind sort of hero worship. He's the goal you've always aimed for, the standard you've tried to reach. To be his girl is still so dizzying you almost can't believe it.

In bed that night, Yandere! Actor thinks about proposing, about wifing you up. The wedding would be huge, generate massive press. His next big project with you is scheduled for half a year away. Maybe do a proposal during opening night? Or better yet, at the Academy Awards? Yeah, that would get cinemas sold out even faster than kissing you on the red carpet did.

Save the wedding for a few years down the line. When your career is more established and your image might need an upgrade.

You curl against his side and moan in your sleep, brow scrunched. Cute, naive little thing, aren't you? Hollywood would swallow you up and spit you out if it wasn't for him.

Yandere! Actor who kisses your forehead as you dream about cameras and lights and action.

"Don't worry baby, I'll take extra good care of you."

Yandere! Actor who's curated his image so carefully. Who wants a girlfriend who's light and talent make him shine all the brighter.

And who better than someone who owes him her career?

Extra!! Here's a short drabble I wrote when I was brainstorming the idea with @laboodanda

[dirtylittlesecre7]

Oh my gosh— someone who writes for nam-gyu? Am I dreaming?! I CANNOT find any fics of him!! Need headcannons about him rn😩 I feel like that man would enjoy making you cry and upset, like he would grin and laugh while doing so. (Cough— Hatefuck—cough..) Just need headcannons about that man so bad😩🫣

This is actually my first time asking, so I really don't know what to say🥲 but I hope you consider this🫶🫶🫶

-🌟anon

warning | nsfw content

word count | 0,6k

a/n | thank you so much for your request luv! I hope I could write something as you wanted

！he's had mixed feelings from the moment he first saw you. hate? anger? like?

oh no, not like. he just hates you so much that he wants to fuck you until you know your place.

"fucking bitch."

"huh?" thanos looked at him incomprehensibly, about to turn his head to you, but nam-gyu quickly changed the subject "nothing."

！he's insanely jealous of thanos👀 even if you don't respond to his flirting, seeing a man next to you makes him angry enough. at least it gives him a reason to make you cry more.

！he should be the only one who annoys you. if he sees someone picking on you, he'll quickly intervene, at first he'll protect you from that person, but then...

"are you too stupid to not protect yourself? no. don't even think about crying." his emotionless voice makes you tremble as he watches you quickly wipe your tears away "good. don't you dare unless I make those tears flow."

！he likes to tease you until you cry because he thinks you look so beautiful with tears in your eyes. If you turn your head and try to hide your face from him, he will forcefully grab your chin and make you look at him with your eyes full of tears. you will see that he is trying to calm down by taking a deep breath because oh...you have no idea how horny he is.

！If he can't sleep at night, he will come to your bed and bother you. If he can't sleep, you can't sleep either. but strangely, talking at night is when you get along the most. guess you are both too tired to argue, but that doesn't mean he won't say a few things about you.

okay, now please hear me out..

！this man is completely clingy when he loves you, but he is also hard when he fucks you, I can't say he doesn't like slow sex, but when he can fuck you like crazy, he doesn't really think about the other option.

！I say clingy because he can never be comfortable if his hand is not on your body in some way. he has to touch you in some way so that he feels better. when you least expect it, you may find his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him "mm...look who's here?"

！If we talk about life outside of the game, you can become his only world. yes, he likes to make you cry and upset. but only you. the others have never caught his attention and they don't. he still thinks you have the most beautiful tears.

！I can't say he's very loud in bed. he'll mostly let out short gasps and short moans. he likes listening to you more, whine for him and he'll make you see stars.

！he likes to tease you and make you cum so much that you cry from sensitivity. when you beg him to stop, he just puckers his lower lip in a mocking tone.

"aw.. does it hurt? what should I do?" he leans into your ear while his fingers, which don't stop, hit the inside of your pussy hard while you just had your 3rd orgasm "Is that all you can take? c'mon.. you can give me more, hm? ah..yes don't hide your voice from me, fuck-"

！he'll run his hand over you while you're sleeping at night, sorry not sorry. when you open your eyes and notices how his fingers are expertly tangled in your wetness, he'll smirk and say "you awake? good. now you better spread your legs for me and be loud as possible."

he's obsessed with you in some way, romantic or not, and he has no plans to leave your side.

[peachesofteal]

tw 18+ dubcon, breeding kink, brief daddy kink, baby trapping-ish - aka the whole purpose of the mating bond

Azriel who slips you a fertility tonic so he can give you a baby.

It starts as a fantasy.

He spends too much time watching you help with Nyx. Plays his dutiful uncle part, but all he's really focused on is how the baby sits so perfectly in your arms, how he's supported so easily by your hips.

How would you look, with his child cradled against your chest? How would you look, round with his baby?

It's maddening. Filling his dreams with ideas about a family of his own, a family with you. You who he loves beyond belief, you who he would die for, over and over again. You, who has become the reason he smiles, the reason he stands in the sun, the reason he looks forward to the future with hope, instead of looking back at the past with anger. You've changed him.

The bond isn't enough anymore, he craves it all. Needs to plant himself inside your womb until you're carrying a piece of him, but it likes that. It wants it, as much as he does, glows in his chest when he imagines it, purrs at the idea with satisfaction.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His cock swells when he thinks about fucking you deep, spilling inside of you again and again until it takes, giving you a piece of himself. Drives him insane, thinking about breeding you, putting his baby inside of you. Turns him inside out.

The shadows don't help. They find the tonic in Dawn Court and pull the emerald green glass bottle from a shelf, depositing it in his office. Thick like syrup, blood red like a candy apple, but completely void of scent. Helpful.

"What do you think about having a baby?" He breathes into your neck one night, still arched overtop of you, lips dragging along your jaw. You giggle. He swears it's the sweetest sound.

"I don't know, kind of soon, don't you think?" A lock of his hair falls onto his forehead, and you twist your fingers in it. "I know Madja said there'd be nothing to worry about but still... we've only been mated a few years, right?" He nips at your skin, slides his nose along yours.

"Right."

What started as a fantasy evolves into a plan. Wicked, and wild, it's all consuming, a parasite in his blood slowly taking over his body until he's disease ridden, obsessed.

"More?" He's perched on a stool, knees spread to accommodate where you stand between his knees, looking up at him with a lazy smile. You've already finished your first glass, the glass, the one with the tonic, and he's pleased to see you drank every drop.

"One more, I think." He taps your chin, tucks his fingers beneath it and tilts your face towards his before pressing his mouth against yours in a long kiss. When you pull away, you have that look in your eye. "Want to go home early?"

Yes.

He's high. Wound up, crazed. You're laid out on the bed, lax on your side, reaching for him. "Come here," you whine, wiggling your fingers, and he grips them before rolling you onto your back and pinning that wrist above your head.

"I love you," he sucks a mark against your collarbone, traces and plucks your nipple, enjoying your pants, the restless jolt of your hips.

"Az," you huff, and he smiles into your skin.

"Impatient." He releases his hold, teases down your belly to where you're already wet for him, soaked, and slips through your folds to find your clit, swollen, and waiting. Wanting. "So wet," there’s nectar between your legs, and he’s thirsty for it. Not tonight. Your clit throbs under his touch, back arching, tits pressing into his chest, "you're dripping."

"Yeah, ah- please," you paw at his shoulders and he pushes you down, lays you flat before grabbing your knees and flexing them towards your chest, your thighs framing the prettiest pussy he's ever seen.

"Keep them there." He warns. Your fingers dig into your flesh, and he taps the head of his cock against your clit, enjoying the way your hole twitches. "Look at you," he's lost in it already, stroking himself, slowly fucking the tip in and out, muscles coiled, ready to strike. It's a drug. You're a drug. His elixir of life, his faerie wine. The high of battle, the satisfaction of success, of killing. He's drunk on you, every day.

"Azriel," you hiss. His girl never likes to be kept waiting. He grins-

and then slams home.

"Fuck!" you scream it, head thrown back, abandoning the hold on your legs to fist the sheets. He pulls your ankles tall, and leans forward. Your eyes are as big as the moon, mouth open wide, perfect. Ready. Ripe.

"I know, I know," he soothes you, kisses you, aware that the pressure of his body over yours only shoves his cock harder against your cervix, and you gasp, pussy fluttering, warm and wet, better than a dream. He finds your clit, his touch turning you languid, helping you adjust to each stroke, "does that feel good, love? Nice and deep?" He catches your lip between his teeth, and then rests his forehead against yours.

"More," You twist in his grip, trying to move, and he swats your ass.

"Be good for me." Be good, be good-

be good for daddy so he can give you a baby, be good so he can plug you up, make it take-

"Yes..." You moan and your pussy quivers, already trying to suck him deeper, trying to pull him in. Your body knows what it wants, the bond knows what it wants, even though your mind isn't there yet.

You writhe, shudder. You're going to come soon.

He slows down, drags his cock almost all the way out, enjoying the way you pout, brows furrowed, before sliding back in, again and again, long strokes that drive you crazy, still flicking your clit. "I love you so much, pretty girl, need to fill you up."

"Yeah, p-please." You're chasing your orgasm, tightening like a fucking vice, trying to strangle him, hold him in, and he closes his eyes, relishing it, wishing he could die in it.

"Come on my cock, sweetheart, let me feel you." Your breath hitches and he fucks you harder, slamming his hips against yours, shoving his cock so deep he wonders if it's in your belly, and your eyes roll back, legs locking into planks, orgasm rocketing through you so violently you cry out.

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck, ah-"

"There it is," there's no stopping now, fucking you through the gush, the clench, "That's it, come for me," he coos, innocent poison, "good girl, such a good girl." His own end is building, fire in his blood, raw power surging up through his wings as they snap wide, and your toes curl as you tremble, pussy still squeezing, pulsing around his cock. "Stay still for me, gonna give you my cum- fuck- fuck it nice and deep." You mewl, half delirious, and he steadies himself before plunging as far as he can, exploding, shattering, flooding you with it all, his hopes, his wickedness, his dreams. His vision goes white, a shock radiating up through his toes, entire body rigid, and locked in, your pussy drenched with him. The bond sings for the true fulfillment of its purpose, the creation of children. It all comes together, him, you, the stars, the darkness, to give him what he wants, what he craves-

his baby inside you.

He tucks his fingers into your pussy as you fall asleep, shushing you back under easily when you blink at him in a daze. "Again?"

"In a bit." He kisses your temple. "Close your eyes sweet girl, you'll need your strength."

[svgarseason]

𖹭 cw: suggestive, fluff, angst

══════════════𖹭 MINORS DNI 𖹭═════════════

PT 1 ⋆ PT 2 ⋆ PT 3 ⋆ PT 4 ⋆ PT 5 ⋆ PT 6. PT 7 [SOON]

English professor Nanami could tell that you were uncomfortable the first couple of days that you stayed with him. He could see it in the shy way you asked for permission for every little thing. "You don't have to ask," he tells you. "I'm glad you're here," he says. He feels suddenly warm, the way you smile at that. It takes a while, but it seems you're finally comfortable, if the way you hum moving around the kitchen and plop down right next to him on the couch with your laptop are any indication.

Professor Nanami tries his best not to stare, but it's hard. He can't understand why seeing you do mundane, domestic things, like making coffee or rinsing dishes, makes his heart feel so full, but it does. He guesses he is probably in love with you, and if that's the case he is well and truly fucked because it can never come to anything. He hopes it is just a passing infatuation, not that he is particularly prone to those. It has never happened to him before, actually.

Professor Nanami knows that, when you leave, his house will feel quiet and empty and he'll torture himself with thoughts of who you're with and what you're doing. He knows it will be soon. The selfish part of him dreads it, but his practical and morally upstanding side will be relieved. The couch situation is becoming potentially problematic, after all. The shorts aren't helping.

"Professor Nanami, what do you think of this paragraph, like, is it actually terrible?" He couldn't truthfully tell you because the plush of your thigh is pressed up against his as you lean over practically on top of him. Your hair is falling over his arm and, although he doesn't mean to look, he can see down the front of your shirt over your shoulder. It is so much worse than when you would crowd in on him in his office.

"Why are your eyes closed," you giggle "Is it that bad?" It is that bad. His cock stays at least half hard pretty much around the clock, now. It has a mind of it's own. He is squeezing his eyes closed, desperately grasping at any thought that might direct bloodflow away from his twitching dick. But he doesn't tell you that, of course.

"Just thinking," he says, instead.

Professor Nanami opens his eyes and your face is so close it kind of takes his breath away. You have never been this close before, and you are so still. Still like a coiled spring holding tension until it just can't anymore. He doesn't mean to, but he looks down at your lips. When he looks back at your eyes, he knows he's caught. He knows he should look away, create distance between the two of you, but he is frozen in place.

And by the time he has done all that thinking, it's too late anyway. The crush of your mouth against his is soft and warm, like the press of your body against his as you crawl into his lap.

Professor Nanami wants to pull you closer, taste you deeper. He wants to undress you and explore your body with his hands and his mouth. Really take his time with you, memorize you like a favorite lyric. His hands find the angle of your jaw, trace the line of your neck he had so often admired before coming to rest on your shoulders.

Professor Nanami pushes you away. "Stop," he says, an alien strangled quality to his voice. "I can't."

Professor Nanami stands in the doorway of the guest room, saying your name softly. You are a quiet blur of motion as you stuff your things into a bag and tug on your shoes. Your face a shiny, red mess of ruined mascara. He says he wants to talk about it, but you don't care, you're too ashamed. You feel like a stupid little girl with a stupid crush who did a stupid, stupid thing.

Professor Nanami doesn't try to stop you when you go.

a/n; hey guys, spoiler alert, but I'm thinking of making the next part a smau. It would be texts between these two. Idk. I love reading smau but I've never made one. Or maybe the next part will be readers POV, then a smau. Anyway, any thoughts on that? & ty for reading as always.

[holdmytesseract]

Hii! It’s me again, back at it with another request (your writing is just so good! I can’t get enough of it).

So this is another dad!Daryl one, one where the reader is pregnant. So we know that some of the Saviours in season 9 didn’t particularly like Daryl because of everything that happened. What if a couple of the Saviours cornered the reader and kidnapped her, taking her to some place to keep her in. Daryl, naturally, is seeing red and will do just about anything to get her back. Angst with a happy ending.

Love you if you write this, love you if you don’t! 💜

What I do, I do for You

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When two Saviors kidnap you - Daryl's pregnant wife - in order to score him off, the archer sees red and does everything to safe you... Everything.

Set in Season 9!

Warnings: Lots of bad stuff is happening, so please act with caution! usual TWD stuff, a lot of angst, pregnancy stuff, violence, blood, character death, murder, brief mentions of rape, FLUFF, Justin & Jed (yep, they're a warning), please tell me if I missed something!

Also, protective!Daryl alert. He goes absolutely feral.

Word Count: 6.9k

a/n: @dixons-sunshine I really hope that I could do your request justice. 🙏🏼 I loved to write it and tried to give my absolute best. 🧡

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Ya sure 'bout that?" Your husband asked with a tinge of concern and fear in his voice. "Ya really wanna come?" You gave him a smile and stepped closer; invading his space. "Positive. I am drop-dead serious about it," you announced and raised your hands to his chest; adjusting the lapels of his angel-winged vest. "I absolutely hate it when you're away and I'm alone in Alexandria... Especially now..." Your gaze fell onto your yet small baby bump; Daryl's blue-greyish eyes following.

He couldn't suppress the soft smile on his lips, neither the quickening of his heartbeat. The man who had lost more in his whole life than he had won, had still a hard time to believe that he actually wasn't dreaming. That this was real. You. The 'wedding band' around your ring finger. The life he was granted to spend with you. Or hence, the new life growing inside you. Him, becoming a father. It was too good to be true. Daryl had to pinch himself on a regular basis, and still questioned himself how a man like him deserved something so precious. Luckily, you were always here to erase the bad thoughts ghosting through his mind... And to remember him how valuable he was to you - and to all the people around you whom you called family.

"A'right. 'M gonna take ya with me to the Sanctuary. Yer maybe right. Best way ta protect ya 's keepin' ya close to me I s'ppose," he agreed in the end and leaned forward to bestow a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled. "Thank you so much, baby. You won't regret it, I swear."

"I know, sunshine," he finally answered; his voice huskily with emotion. From the both hands resting on your hips traveled one to the front of your body; gently cupping the bump which was his child. "But 'm not sure..." You pouted. "Please, Dar... I don't want to miss you... And we both know I'd be the safest within your presence."

The archer chewed on the inside of his bottom lip for a long moment; contemplating his next words.

Oh, how wrong the both were going to be...

Barely two days later, you and Daryl made your way to the Sanctuary. Not on his bike, though. The archer had made that clear the moment you and him left the basement apartment you called home. "Hell nah. We ain't takin' the bike. 'S outta question. 'Specially in yer condition," your husband had said, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile. Sure, you understood him and got his point, but you were also aware that this wasn't a 'condition'. You were pregnant. Not sick. And besides, not even that far along. About four months was Siddiq's guess.

Of course, you hadn't even tried to reason with the archer; knowing already that you'd fight a battle you couldn't win. So, you had followed him without a word to one of Alexandria's cars - certainly not horse; Daryl would rather walk than riding on a horseback, even if it would take him days to get to his destination on foot - and were now comfortably seated in the passenger seat. Daryl steered the car to the place you actually still despised deep down in your heart; not having forgotten the things Negan and the Saviors had done. What they had taken and almost took from you.

A few former Saviors were out and about. Most of them tending to the crops and other things planted in the makeshift gardens. The lot of them greeted you and Daryl with respect; some even gave a smile, but others... If looks could kill. The coldness and hate in theirs eyes sent a shiver down your spine. Of course you knew that some Saviors didn't quite... appreciate the mercy you showed them, neither the things you did for them. They were still hanging on to Negan. Daryl knew as well - and he didn't tolerate them. Unfortunately, he had to. At the end of the day, he bent and listened to his brother; being faithful and loyal.

You passed by lots of beautiful places on your way; proofs that mother nature had taken back what belonged to her. But you also saw a lot of rotting corpses trudging and staggering down the abandoned streets, meadows and woods. Life and death battling over the world domination. Nobody would've seen it coming that the line between decay and reincarnation was going to be that thin at some point - and here we were.

"Ya a'right, sunshine?" Daryl's deep, but comforting and definitely slightly worried voice urged suddenly to your ears. You blinked and tried to refocus again. You didn't notice that you had your head in the clouds; lost in thoughts. Neither did you notice that Daryl had parked and turned off the engine of the car. "Uh, yeah, sure. Sorry. Just spaced out a bit." Daryl nodded and gave you a last look, before he opened the car door and moved to get out of his seat. "C'mon. We're here."

It was strange to be back at the Sanctuary. Only the mere look at the huge, old factory caused an uneasy feeling to spread within your stomach. And you could tell that Daryl wasn't quite at ease either. How could he? After all he had to go through here... After all the traumatizing experiences...

"Daryl." A blond woman approached the two of you. Your eyes scanned her face; realizing that you knew her. Laura - if you remembered correctly. The archer jutted his chin into her direction; silently addressing her. The both of them started to talk. Something about the crops and an incident with a 'living' walker as a scarecrow. You didn't pay fully attention to your husband and the former Savior, since you could clearly feel a pair of eyes on you. In search for them, you looked to your left; meeting eyes with a man. Tall, longer black hair and a beard. He was quite a few yards away from you but you could clearly tell that he was the one watching you.

You blinked and waved it off. It was most likely 'cause he had never seen you before.

"Let's get our stuff inside. 'S gettin' dark soon." Your husband's voice caused you to redirect your attention. "Yeah..." You nodded; still a bit absentmindedly, and followed Daryl inside the building.

He led you down several corridors, until you reached a spacious room with a bed, attached bathroom and a few other basic things. While Daryl put down his backpack and your bag alongside his beloved crossbow, you sat down on the bed; feeling a dull ache in your feet. "Ya okay, darlin'?" Of course, Daryl noticed immediately. His senses seemed to be even sharper since you told him about the pregnancy. You nodded. "Sure, Dar. Just some swollen feet." He gave you one of those cute, little smiles you adored so much. "Guess yer in for a foot rub tonight then."

It was the fourth day you spent at the Sanctuary. Daryl tried his best to be around you as much as somehow possible, but unfortunately, there was a lot of work to do for the 'leader'. So, you just decided to stay around him. Luckily, you had a few books packed and you'd always find a comfortable seat - no matter where. You just felt safer when your husband was close, and you could tell that it was much appreciated by him that he could throw a watchful eye on you from time to time.

Daryl wasn't the only one who had his eyes on you, though... Day after day, you could feel the unpleasant stare of that man who already had watched you at the day you set foot here... Justin, like you got to know. He didn't let a single opportunity slip to eye you. It was highly uncomfortable and quite confusing. You didn't know why he was doing what he did. It wasn't like you knew each other. You never even had exchanged a single word! Yet he was always looking... And when you'd catch him, he just gave you a little smirk - what didn't make you feel any better.

After day two, you just accepted it and tried to brush it off and ignore it. You didn't dare to confront the man. If you weren't pregnant, you wouldn't have even give it a second thought and walked straight up to your 'stalker', but... You were pregnant and didn't want to risk anything.

And telling Daryl wasn't an option in your eyes either. He was already so occupied and definitely way more on edge now that he was back at this former hellhole. This wouldn't end well; you knew it.

"You gotta come! Reilly and Mark are fighting. They're yelling at each other like kindergartners!" Daryl scoffed. "Dun care. They can handle their shit alone." The Savior standing opposite you frantically shook his head. "Man, if you don't intervene, this is gonna escalate! They're gonna beat each other up - or worse! You know how they are!" The archer groaned and rolled his eyes. Unfortunately was that idiot right. He couldn't let this escalate, even if he didn't care if it did. He had silently promised Rick to keep this place sane and running, so... "Fine," he finally answered, and turned to you. "Ya gonna find the way alone, sunshine?" You nodded, and placed a hand on his chest with a soft smile. "Of course. Go. I'll be waiting for you in bed. I'm tired." Your husband nodded and gave your hip a soft squeeze; an apologizing look on his face. He didn't want to leave you alone - but knew he had to. Turning on his heel, he followed the Savior and vanished around the corner.

"Dixon!" You flinched at the sudden, unanticipated voice of a man echoing down the corridor you and Daryl just walked through. You were actually on your way back to your room; ready to call it a day. Well, apparently not...

The archer stopped and turned; you both witnessing Dean - a Savior, of course, sprint around the corner. "Dixon!" "Wha'?" Daryl snarled in annoyance. He have had enough of that day. All he wanted was to disappear in that room and not leave it - and you, until tomorrow.

"Hello, Y/N."

You sighed and gazed behind you down the empty corridor, as you felt a flutter within your belly. You smiled; placing a palm underneath your baby bump, which was well hidden since you wore way too big, but comfortable clothes from the day you got here. "I know, munchkin. Daddy's gonna be back soon. Let's go to bed. We could both use some sleep," you talked to your unborn baby quietly; the smile never leaving your lips.

Everything was eerily quiet. Well, no wonder. It was quite late and most of the Saviors were already sleep, you reckoned. Hopefully me too, soon, you thought; pushing down the door handle and opening the door to yours and Daryl's room. You switched on the light - thanks to the generators.

An unknown voice suddenly urged to your ears; causing you to flinch and almost stumble right back out of the room again. You spun around to seek out the origin of the voice; finding the man who had watched you for days sitting on that one chair in the corner of the room with a smirk on his face. You swallowed hard.

"Justin, right?" You tried to sound brave, even though you had a very uneasy feeling brewing within your gut. "What are you doing here? Can I, um, help you?"

Justin's smirk widened. "Oh yes, indeed. You can help me... Close the door, love. I wanna talk." You did what he said and slowly closed the door, but your hand kept gripping the handle - just in case.

"I have never see you before," he started. "Surely we both crossed paths before without knowing - blame it to the war." "Most likely, yeah..." You answered. Justin shook his head and let his eyes wander over your body again. You felt like a piece of meat. "You're a true sight for sore eyes, Y/N... What a shame..." You frowned. "Shame?" The black haired man nodded. "It's a shame you have such low standards and waste your time on a man like Dixon. You are his girl, aren't you?" Your frown deepened at his words; feeling anger bubble up inside you.

Just as you wanted to speak up, the Savior cut you off. "Or... Wait... Are you just his little toy? An occasional fuck? God, how pathetic," he laughed to himself. "What do you get in return? Protection? Food? A shelter? Or are you doing it for free? His dick that good?"

Your jaw almost dropped at the foul words leaving Justin's mouth. He definitely went to far. You've had enough. Nobody threw mud at Daryl like that. Nobody. You were not having it.

"I'm his wife! I-" "His wife?" Justin cut you off once more; laughing. "So this is some serious shit, huh? Wow... Never thought a guy like Dixon could pull such a hot girl like you. You're too good for him, you know," the man said with a dramatic sigh and pulled himself up from the chair. With calculated steps, he crossed the room - and the predatory smirk he wore on his lips, made you feel even more uneasy than you already felt. "You certainly deserve..." Justin licked his lips. "...better."

The Saviors eyes widened, "Fucking hell... He... He knocked you up?" and he laughed. "You're dumber than I thought." Justin shook his head; still smiling amused. "We're witnessing the fucking end of this shit show called life," he gestured around himself. "And you don't know better than get pregnant with that asshole's bastard child."

You swallowed hard and took a step back, feeling your back pressing against the door; grip on the handle still painfully tight. "N-No, I don't. Daryl is more than enough. H-He treats me right." "He treats you right?" Justin asked mockingly, "Aww, how cute." and chuckled. "What if I told you that other men could treat you so much better?" He whispered in a low voice and reached out a hand to cup your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

Your heartbeat quickened; pumping adrenaline through your whole body in fear. Your primal instinct to run already knocked against the door to your brain, but another instinct was stronger just yet... Protecting your baby. So, out of instinct, your free arm wrapped around your baby bump, before you could even stop yourself - and it didn't escape Justin's notice, of course. Your well kept secret suddenly wasn't a secret anymore.

The last sentence was the straw that broke the camel's back. Insulting the husband of an expectant mother wasn't wise. But insulting the child of an expectant mother was suicide.

It was the whistle which sealed your fate.

Before the rational part of your brain could intervene, did your palm already collide with Justin's cheek; slapping him hard.

A soft groan of pain left his lips as he stumbled back. His hand immediately rubbing the now stinging skin. "You bitch!" The Savior exclaimed angrily. "Alright, that's enough." Justin stomped back over to you and already reached out his hand to grasp your wrist, but your instincts kicked in again. This time, they told you to run. So, you did.

Quickly opening the door, you stormed outside and wanted to flee - but you unfortunately didn't get far.

Suddenly another Savior appeared in the corridor ahead of you - and you immediately stopped. Frantically turning around and searching reverently for a way to escape, you soon figured out that there was no way out. One man in front of you, Justin coming up behind you. And in the blink of an eye, you found yourself in the same situation like seconds earlier - just that it was way worse now. Pressed against the wall; trying to shield your unborn child from any possible harm and danger. "P-Please, don't p-please..." You begged for mercy, but it was no use. The men just laughed; having you cornered. "Not so brave anymore, are we?" Justin snickered. Tears stung your eyes. "T-The baby, p-please..." You whispered through tears; feeling your knees buckle and almost give in from underneath you. Silently, you prayed to every God and higher force, that Daryl would walk around the corner now.

He didn't.

"Get her. We're gonna make that asshole pay." It was the last thing you heard, before the other man lashed out. You felt a throbbing pain in your skull and within seconds went everything black.

Grumbling in annoyance, Daryl made his way finally back to yours and his quarters. To solve the stupid, boyish conflict between those two primitive idiots took longer than he thought it would. It got him even more tired than he already was. All the archer wanted was to sleep with you safely in his arms.

However, when he reached your shared room he found the door ajar; causing his heart rate to quicken on an instant. Without wasting even a second, he literally stormed in - only to find the room empty and deafeningly quiet.

"Y/N?!" He called out, but didn't receive an answer. "Y/N?!" In a frenzy of panic, Daryl started to search for you. To his sheer horror, he couldn't find you. Fear and the nagging feeling of guilt and failure already eating away at him. He swore to protect you. You felt safe whenever he was around - and now he had failed you; failed to protect you and his unborn child. Whatever happened to you, Daryl could tell that it wasn't something good. This was the Sanctuary, after all. This hellhole was worse than what laid behind the gates.

Nevertheless, he hoped to find you unscathed, and that all of this was just a big misunderstanding.

Of course... He should've think of that. Jed was - among a few others - a Savior, who didn't quite like how things went down. Negan being defeated... Rick's plan to 'convert' them to be better people... Daryl taking over the Sanctuary... It didn't suit their plans. Daryl knew they hated it - and they hated him. So, why wouldn't Jed - or hence, any of them, do something to get at him? And what was the best way to inflict pain to somebody? Exactly. By hurting someone the person loves.

Life didn't treat the archer kind - of course. You were nowhere to be found. Not in the kitchens, the sanitary rooms, nor the common room; his next destination being the gardens.

"Daryl?" A female voice suddenly urged to his ears - not yours, though. So, he simply ignored it. "Daryl?" Laura stepped into his view. She was on watch and saw her visibly distraught 'leader'. "What the hell is wrong? You run around like a mad man. What are you looking for?"

The archer froze in his movements for a moment; breathing labored. "Y/N. Can't find 'er. Somethin' happened to 'er. Someone took 'er. I'm sure 'a it," he spoke in a low, deep voice. Threateningly. "Ya know somethin' I should know?" Eyes full of a anger were staring the Savior woman down. And Laura knew that this wasn't a version of Daryl you wanted to get yourself into a fight with.

"Not really, no, but..." She frowned; seemed to recall something in her memory. "I saw Jed hanging around in the hallway of your room this afternoon." The archer clenched his jaw.

He shouldn't have let you accompany him.

"Daryl?" Laura's voice ripped him out of his thoughts. The archer wanted to answer, but all he saw was red. He stormed off; driven by anger, fear and the urge to protect what was his - the most important one of the few good things in his life.

Without any unnecessary detours, Daryl went straight for Jed's room. Not even blinking, he barged through the door; slamming it shut behind him and causing the Savior, who was just about to get changed for the night to flinch badly. Jed spun around; his eyes landing on Daryl. "What the hell, Dixon?!" He complained; not noticing the hands of the archer, which were curled into fists, nor the rage in his blue-grey eyes. "Fuck off! This isn't your-" Before Jed was even able to finish his sentence, had Daryl already crossed the distance with three big steps and grabbed the Savior by the lapels of his shirt; pinning him against the wall. Sure, Jed was strong - but not as strong as the bulky archer. Plus, the momentum was clearly on Daryl's side, since he had caught him by surprise.

Daryl growled lowly in his throat. It wasn't a warning. It was a threat.

"What-" "Shut yer damn mouth 'n tell me where she is," Daryl growled; accentuating his words with pushing Jed a little harder and caging him entirely between the wall and his broad frame.

The man scoffed and pawed - in vain - at Daryl's bare forearms and the bulging veins and muscles located there; trying to free himself. "What the fuck are you talking about, Dixon?!"

"Ya ain't fuckin' with me, asshole. Ya know exactly what 'm talkin' about." His grip on Jed's shirt lapels tightened. "Where is my wife," Daryl punctuated every single word. The Savior glared into the archer's eyes for a moment, before he scoffed once again. "I have absolutely no clue where your little whore is! Perhaps she ran off and found a better dick than your-" Daryl had enough of the bullshit Jed was giving him. Without even letting him finish his sentence, Daryl pulled him away from the wall and threw him harshly to the hard ground. "Dun'cha dare talk about Y/N like tha'." His voice was deep and quiet, but not lacking with danger. "And now tell me where she is." "I told you, I don't know!" Jed tried to defend himself further, but Daryl knew he lied. He could feel it.

"A'right. Then we gonna do this the hard way," Daryl stated and lunged at Jed; fists connecting with the man's jaw and stomach. Jed fought back, of course, landing a few blows himself. Their bodies hit the floor multiple times. Blood flew, bones cracked and furniture got destroyed and wrecked as both men were fighting for the upper hand. In the end, though, had Daryl clear advantage over Jed. He was the more skilled and stronger fighter, and had the Savior snugly wrapped up in a chokehold. "'M gonna find 'er anyways," Daryl grunted; panting and being out of breath. "'N I dun care 'bout how many of yer assholes I gotta go through. I'll kill every damn one of ya if tha's what's it gonna take," he snarled and tightened his deathly grip around Jed's neck; his biceps bulging. "So, do yerself a damn favor 'n tell me where the hell she is!" "Fuck you!" was all Jed answered. The archer growled once again and squeezed, which caused the man to gasp and flail; helplessly trying to escape.

Only when Jed was on the verge of passing out, did he decide to finally cooperate. "Alright, alright!" He spluttered and choked. "I'm gonna tell you!" Daryl loosened his grip, and Jed frantically gasped for air. "S-She... She's in one... one of t-the cells..." The man coughed; still trying to get air back into his lungs.

The Savior didn't have to say more. Daryl knew what - or well, where he meant. "Try anythin' stupid, I'll kill ya," the crossbow-wielding archer warned Jed and gave him last death glare, before he left him on the floor in his room with bruises already forming on his neck.

This ain't 'bout me, damnit, he reminded himself. I gotta keep my wife 'n baby safe.

A lump formed in Daryl's throat as he made his way to the 'cells'. An area he thought he'd never ever in his life set foot in again. Being back at the Sanctuary was bad enough, but the mere thought of going there was even worse. It caused his stomach to flip. He could've thrown up all over the floor if he had let himself...

It still looked the same like back when he was imprisoned. The same way too squeaky clean floors. The same doors leading into the same rooms. The only difference was the infirmary, which had been moved to another part of the other building. But except that... Everything was the same. Daryl had to take a deep breath and close his eyes for a moment to keep his shit together and save himself from an approaching panic attack. His labored breath, shaky hands and the forming sweat on his skin a clear indicator.

"Y/N?" Daryl whisper-shouted; hoping to be close to you and receive an answer. He didn't. The archer had to go a little further to find you, and now that he was standing in front of one particular room with his heart almost breaking free of his ribcage; getting to know that it was locked as he twisted the door knob, realization dawned on him. Of course they'd lock her up here, Daryl thought as he eyed the way too familiar door. That was a part of the sick game they played.

With another deep breath, Daryl fought against the traumatic thoughts which wanted to push themselves to the forefront of his brain and shoved them aside; locking them away and focusing on you.

Precautionary, he freed his knife from its sheath and sneaked down the corridors; checking every room. After all, he didn't know who or what awaited him. Storming into this blindly wasn't probably the best idea, since he was convinced that Jed didn't do this alone.

Clenching his jaw, he had to fight another panic attack; even going as far to cut himself with the knife in his shaking hand, in the hopes that the pain would redirect the attention of his brain. A small grunt of pain escaped his lips as the red liquid dripped down his arm.

"H-Hello?"

His desperate action got interrupted by a soft, weak voice coming from the other side of the door; causing the archer's knife to clatter to the floor and a relieved, shaky breath to leave his throat.

"Y/N?!"

The answer came promptly.

"O-Oh my gosh, D-Daryl! I-It's locked, a-and I can't move, I-" "I know, sunshine, I know. Dun worry, 'kay? 'M goin' to get ya," he cut you off with the intention to calm you down. Taking a few steps back, he let the anger and rage take over his system once again and stormed forwards. The door might have been locked, but it definitely wasn't the same door like ten years ago. It had aged and got less stable, so when the archer's strong, bulky frame connected with the door, the lock gave in and the door busted open. Sure, it took him three tries and most likely cost him a bruised shoulder, but Daryl couldn't care less.

"C'mon. Let's getcha outta here 'n see a doctor. I ain't takin' any risks." Your husband shifted and gently slid an arm under your knees and around your back. "Hold on to me." You wrapped an arm around his neck, but shook your head. "Y-You don't have to do this, Dar. I can walk." "Nah," he stated, "I'm gonna do this. Yer hurt 'n pregnant." and lifted you carefully up to carry you bridal style. You didn't protest further. Why should you? He got a point after all...

The bright light from the corridor flooded the dark room and helping him to get a better look at you. You sat in the corner on the cold floor of the dark room. Your wrists and ankles were tied together with a thick rope - way too tight as he noticed, since he could see the material already cutting into your delicate skin. Tried blood was on the right side of your head.

Daryl's heart shattered into a million pieces, seeing you like this. Fear and concern coursed through his veins. "Y/N..." he whispered in a hoarse, broken voice and immediately dropped to his knees beside you, quickly freeing you off the too tight ropes, before one hand gently cupped your cheek, while the other found its way to your growing baby bump. "Ya both okay?! Ya hurt?! In pain?!" Tears of sheer relief gathered in your eyes; threatening to fall as you felt the gentle, loving touch of your husband and knowing that he was here with you. That he saved you.

"I-I'm okay... W-We are okay. Thanks to you," you breathed; smiling as tears rolled down your cheeks. It's been probably only hours since you lastly saw Daryl, but what had happened happened. The shock was profound.

The archer's eyes scanned your body thoroughly for any visible injuries. "Wha' 'bout yer head, sunshine?" "N-Nothing that can't be fixed," you stated and gazed deeply into his worried, loving eyes. "I'm s-so glad you found me. I-I was so afraid..." Daryl lowered his head to rest his forehead against yours. Your hands slipped behind his neck; tangling a few chestnut brown strands through your fingers. "Yeah, me too." Daryl's eyes fluttered shut, before his lips caught yours in a lingering, desperate kiss.

"Just Jed 'n Justin?" You nodded against his shoulder. "Justin waited for me in o-our room. He insulted you. S-Said I deserve better a-and..." You trailed off; feeling tears blurry your vision once again - but this time, it wasn't happy tears. "Ya dun have ta tell me, darlin'. Dun wanna pressure ya into talkin' 'a me." You swallowed hard and buried your face further in his shoulder and neck; "I-I want to tell you." inhaling deeply. Daryl's natural scent, mixed with leather and smoke filled your airways and - like always - had that soothing effect on you. "I-I think he was only a hairsbreadth away f-from raping me, but-" "Wha'?!" Daryl instantly cut you off. Every single muscle in his body tensed as he came to an abrupt halt. You could tell. "He didn't, Dar. I-I slapped him a-and tried to flee, but then there was J-Jed."

"Which one of those assholes did tha' to ya? Jed 'n who else?" Daryl asked in a drop-dead serious voice as he slowly made his way with you down the corridor. You swallowed hard; having to recall the horrible memory. "J-Justin."

Justin. One word - one name was enough to get Daryl's blood to a boiling point once again. He and that prick didn't get along from the very start - and this wasn't the first time the archer and Justin got in each other's ways... There had been a lot of situations where either of them was only a second away from beating the other up. Justin was - like Jed - one of those assholes who wanted Negan back. A Savior through and through.

The clattering sound of - most likely dishes urged to yours and Daryl's ears and managed to quickly redirect both your attention.

"'M gonna kill that sonofabitch," Daryl growled lowly under his breath, but you understood him anyway, of course. "Baby-" "Nah. Ya ain't gonna talk me outta this, Y/N," your husband stated firmly, while opening the main door to the building and stepped outside. Meanwhile, the sun had risen; fresh, crispy morning air hitting your bare arms.

"He's going to pay for tha'. He put you 'n our baby into danger. I ain't havin' tha'." "I know, babe, and you're right. He... He has to pay. But Rick's gonna-" "I dun care 'bout wha' Rick's gonna say. This ain't 'bout him. This' 'bout my family. We both know tha' he'd do the same in the end 'n-"

Justin stood a few feet away across from you and Daryl on the yard. What you had heard was indeed dishes breaking; the shards and content laying on the ground in front of the man. It looked like he had been just on his way to bring you some 'breakfast'. But now, the Savior stood frozen to the ground; eyes directed on you and Daryl. Your husband held his gaze, of course, and if looks could kill, Justin would've been dead already. You felt your archer's muscles tense once again, before he gently let you down. "Sit, 'kay? 'N stay there, please," he whispered and jutted his chin at a wooden bench. You did what he said and slowly walked backwards over to sit down; eyes never leaving both men.

The tension was literally cuttable with a knife as Justin and Daryl stared each other down. The archer out of pure hate and the Savior still in shock and in realization at failure of his plan. You knew this was going to escalate. Two 'alpha males' with completely different, but strong intentions.

Daryl knew it, too. It would've escalated someday anyway. For him, it was just sooner than later.

"Fuck," cursed Justin out loud then; awoken from his rigidity - and instantly started to run. Daryl wasn't having this, of course, and sprinted right after Justin. "Fuck, indeed..." You muttered to yourself; feeling your heart rate picking up. You had to fear for your life and the life of your unborn child for hours and now you had to fear for the life of your husband. Mental stress was your current program as it seemed - something not just you felt... You could feel some movement inside your baby bump. "I know, I know... I'm sorry, munchkin... I just hope your daddy knows what he's getting himself into..." Your palm cradled your protruding stomach in an attempt to soothe your antsy 'roommate'.

Meanwhile had Daryl caught up to Justin and tackled him to the concrete ground - where they still were. Fists connected with several body parts; each of them trying to gain the upper hand. Justin was definitely stronger than Jed. The archer had a hard time taking him down and couldn't do so without taking several hits and punches himself. However kept him the anger and adrenaline going, and gave him the strength he needed.

Somehow, they had made their way back to you. You gasped as both men entered your field of view again - just in time to witness Justin's fist colliding with Daryl's jaw, who let out a grunt of pain. Your eyes widened and you were instantly on your feet; breath hitching in your throat. "Daryl!" He had turned his back to you; spitting out some blood and blindly reaching out his arm to signal you to stay where you are. "Nah, stay back! I got it!" He yelled and violently shoved Justin away, as he wanted to deliver another blow.

You took a step back again, but didn't sit down; face full of concern. You wouldn't let him die. That much was certain. You'd intervene before that happened. How, was the part you hadn't figured out just yet...

The fight went on - without mercy. Daryl, you and Justin knew that only one would walk out alive. Neither the archer, nor the Savior intended to stop. Sure, you could stop it, but how were you supposed to do that?

The sound of a cracking bone almost send you into another frenzy - until you saw that it wasn't a bone of your husband's body. It was Justin's. His nose, to be precisely. The man winced in pain; crimson red blood already tripping down his nose and onto his shirt and the ground. Justin was clearly in a daze; stumbling a few steps back. This didn't slip Daryl's notice, of course. He knew that this was the moment. He had to grasp this chance and use it, before it was too late. The archer was well aware that he was hurt, too and didn't know how much longer he was able to hold on. So, without thinking twice, Daryl reached for the other knife in the sheath attached to his rugged jeans, freed the blade, spun around - and slit the Savior's throat in his movement. Your eyes widened to the size of plates; watching the man splutter and helplessly trying to put pressure on the wound, but it was in vain.

The clatter of a knife caused you to avert your eyes and look at your husband, who had sunk to his knees only a few feet away from Justin's now dead body; panting heavily. Your heart immediately screamed at you to look after the man you loved. Not wasting a second, you ran over to the archer; crouching down beside him.

"Daryl?" You cupped his cheeks and gently lifted his head to make him look at you. "Baby?" Heavy, clouded blue eyes gazed into yours. "You okay?" He nodded meekly. A breath of relief left your lips, although you could already see the bruises forming on his face and the dried blood on his lips and chin. Your thumbs caressed the rough, stubbly skin beneath them, before you gently pulled him closer and rested your forehead against his. Daryl sighed; his bloody hands gripping your wrists. "Y/N, 'm sorry, I-"

The bubble you and Daryl had been in bursted. You lifted your head; only now noticing Rick and a lot of other people standing around you. Mostly Saviors. Swallowing hard, you stood up; holding onto Daryl and helping him up as well. "Rick-" You started, but the leader of Alexandria interrupted you; shock, disappointment and anger clearly visible on his face. "You killed 'im? You killed Justin? Why?" You wanted to speak up again, but Daryl leapfrogged you. "'Cause he was a damn asshole, tha's why!" "Daryl, that's not-" "He kidnapped Y/N, Rick! He hurt her! He wanted to rape 'er 'n do god knows what to 'er!" Your husband yelled at his brother. "Wake up, man. We can't change them, Rick. They are wha' they chose ta be... 'N I ain't no longer puttin' my family on risk for this bullshit," Daryl stated firmly and wrapped his arm around your waist; anchoring you to him. "Let's getcha outta here, sunshine."

He didn't get any further. Another voice cut suddenly through the air. Familiar, but unexpected.

"What the hell is goin' on here?"

Rick was way too stunned to speak; could only watch as his best friend guided you across the yard.

Slowly, you slid closer and placed a hand cautiously on his bare back. "D-" "I failed ya." You couldn't even utter his name, before the words spilled from his lips. "I failed ya 'n our kid. Swore ta always protect ya 'n now look wha' happened..." You sighed. Of course... He blamed himself for this. You should've seen it coming. "Dar..." You spoke up again in a hushed voice; sliding even closer to him. One hand found its way around his waist, the other still resting on his upper back. "This wasn't your fault. Please stop blaming yourself. It was Jed and Justin's doing. Not yours," you tried to soothe his raging thoughts of guilt and littered his shoulder blade with tiny kisses.

A few hours, a visit at the infirmary and a shower later, you sat in yours and Daryl's room - still in the Sanctuary; trying to process what happened.

Only the mattress dipping beside you managed to rip you out of your thoughts. Daryl, who had just taken a shower as well sat down on the edge of the bed; muscles tensed and without saying a single word. He hadn't said a lot anyways since the incident. Sure, the archer had never been a man of words, but... You could tell that something was still bothering him.

You, though, stayed awake and watched him sleep with a soft smile on your face; fingers carding through his soft, still damp hair. "I just hope you reconciled with your brother, Mr. Dixon. You both need each other and you damn well know it."

Daryl shook his head. "Nah. 'S my fault, Y/N. Should've protected both 'a ya better." "You are protecting us the best you can, Daryl," you stated firmly; shifting once again to sit beside him. "You risked your life more than once for me. And you did what was right yesterday evening. You did what you had to do. You acted like a leader should act." "But-" "Nu.Uh. No buts," you cut him off and gently placed your lips in on his to keep him from speaking; entangling them in a sweet kiss. "We're right here, okay?" You prompted; taking one of his hands and placing it on your baby bump, while you intertwined the other with yours. "We're right here and we are completely fine." Troubled eyes gazed into yours; his touch never ceasing. "'M sorry," Daryl whispered; voice quivering.

"C'mere." You laid back on the bed and gently tucked at his hand; inviting him to join you. He immediately obliged and melted against your body with his head resting on your chest, while he was holding onto you for dear life. "That's it, baby... Relax. Deep breaths." Your husband followed your words, and found himself drifting off into dreamland at some point. He was just way too exhausted and unable to resist your soothing, comforting touch.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @thevegandarkelf

[natsmagi]

ok no i need to bitch because i have remained positive and hopeful throughout most of !!-era because i believed that happyele loved their characters and wouldnt deliberately go out of their way to butcher them but time and time again i have been proven wrong on this fact. and seeing the way theyre doubling down on having ibuki, a ryukyuan kid from okinawa, join a traditional "wa" japanese unit that embraces mainland japan traditions when the mainland has continuously tried to make okinawa theirs and disregard the ryukyuan identity WHILE ALSO LITERALLY HAVING EICHI COLONIZE OKINAWA IN ATLANTIS its all just becoming too much. I am no expert when it comes to these topics so do not take my word when it comes to jp culture, conflict and the likes, but knowing how poorly happyele has continuously time and time again treated their indigenous (or middle eastern in adonis's case) cast i cannot see this going well. Not to mention how having ibuki join akatsuki goes against everything the three of them have built up and the whole POINT of their unit and that for them to even fucking put this garbage in the story they had to make keito PAINFULLY ooc to pull it off because NO OTHER REALITY WOULD ALLOW IT!!!!! theyre taking akatsukis developments and throwing it out the window in an attempt to make them something "new" and more profitable while also using a beloved group that so many have spent so much of their time loving and supporting into nothing but a scapegoat for their imperialist propaganda im so unbelievably angry that theyre doubling down on this. im so angry that theyre stupid enough to let shit like this pass

and im sure youve probably read posts explaining the aktk thing better than i ever couldve, esp considering im not an aktkP, but im also writing this to tell the fans of big units to Stop Giving In. do not feel safe just because happyele is scared of losing you, because I used to be an undeadP before getting into switch and the reason i STOPPED producing them was because they viewed the unit as nothing but a money-maker machine and would completely disregard their developments for the sake of feeding into tropes that fans liked and they cared more about yaoibait than they did the characters themselves. They tossed out any growth rei and ritsu had in opperetta for the sake of bringing back sakuma brothers conflict in that painfully annoying la mort story and theyre gonna keep doing this shit until fans tire of it. valkyrie, eden and knights are three super popular units with upcoming events, and i seriously need you to not give happyele any of your time or money because they do not deserve it.

even with switch, a rather unpopular unit, theres been total garbage pulled. in switchs case i think its safe to say that akira does genuinely really care for natsume and tsumugis relationship considering thats basically all that man even includes in his switch stories, but he never really knows what to do with sora. And i feel like he doesnt really care. Like sure i can sit here and be like "well at least MY favs seem to be doing alright" but thats purely because they keep spoon-feeding us crumbs of the units popular ships so we wont complain. i still really like their dynamic and i strongly disagree with alot of fans saying natsume and tsumugi have been OOC lately, but like. Look at sora man. i dont mind him having a little gf in the virtual world, i dont mind him growing more independent, i dont mind him relying less on his synesthesia. but the executions are just. Theyre painful. with the synesthesia thing esp bc synesthesia doesnt just go away. You couldve easily made a simple point of "you cant always rely on your synesthesia to know how people feel" because that is TRUE! but that would de-fetishize this idea these people have of synesthesia being some Magical Ability and not just a neurological condition. And with the sora being more independent; this is also something thats been needed for his story! natsume and tsumugi would often coddle him way too much, and sora himself would complain about being treated as a kid. But like. sora has started to feel so disconnected from switch in a way.....? and this has even been a point of conflict in stories, sora not knowing how to partake in ntmgs conversations because theyre too difficult, or being sad that ntmg never have time to hang out with him. But instead of working on these things, they just. keep having sora hang out with people outside of natsume and tsumugi? who have practically become a package deal at this point?? literally having sora join a NEW UNIT without natsume or tsumugi????????? i dont know. im rambling but i just wanted to get this out there. Theyre my specialest guys in the whole entire world and i just want to make people more cautious of thinking "well the aktk thing wouldnt happen to MY fav unit! they wouldnt butcher MY favs!" because they very much can. even if theres an aspect youre still hooked on, other factors are visibly crumbling because management cares only about what will bring the most revenue, and not what is best for the character

i cant help but feel the reason theyre pulling this shit with akatsuki is because they felt as though they somewhat got away with it with Double Face and raked in some extra cash because kohaku ended up popular, so now theyre doing that again but taking it to the next extreme. its disheartening

anyway. i will continue to draw and enjoy ensemble stars. But i wont be supporting them financially anymore as they clearly do not care about fans at all. if i desperately want some merch ill just buy it second-hand. And while im at it, i need you people to stop telling enstarries to get into some other idol franchise instead as if the main problem here isnt how disgustingly predatory they are. Happy Elements were THE biggest joseimuke franchise, making the most money out of all their competitors, and it still wasnt enough. they still didnt respect their fans. when the fans would continuously respect their wishes. Enstars is like the only fandom ive seen that doesnt share leaks for example, yet this courtesy means nothing to them. Corporations arent your friends, never have been and never will be. those characters arent real, they do not have feelings of their own. They were all written by someone to serve a purpose, and this includes ibuki being an indigenous kid joining the wa japanese culture unit. To use this popularity to spread so much fucking bigotry and hatred is heartbreaking. And to blame the fans for being upset over it????????????? youre disgusting happyele.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

(Thunderbolts) I feel like it would be really funny. There's a x reader where Bucky had a wife, and she just walks in during one of their meetings, holding their kids and like "where the hell were you? All I need a frozen pizza and some diaper wipes."

And alexie teaches one of the kids their first word but it's not mama or dada. It's Gin.

Bucky is pulled away quickly for a mission, leaving you holding the babies...and worrying about your husband.

Warnings: 18+ for language, domestic fluff, Thunderbolts!Bucky before the film, Dad!Bucky, reader likes pineapple on her pizza, I feel this is something I need to warn for. I don't really write kids in fics normally and I've never written Alexi before so…please be kind! Rated F for fluff and K for kids.

A/N: thank you so much for this request! Not going to lie I'm nervous writing anything about Thunderbolts before it's out but Thunderbolts!Bucky does live rent free in my head. It's not exactly as you requested but I hope you still enjoy it anyway!

Padruga - female friend in Russian

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

Being married to Bucky Barnes was everything you'd dreamed about since the first time he'd strolled into your boutique and nervously asked if you had any gifts suitable for ex-assassins with limited wardrobes.

After a few hours searching for items he'd bought a new jacket for himself, black leather of course, and a smaller woman's jacket. Your heart had sunk, of course there was a woman already in his life. Tall, handsome, a rakish mop of hair flopping into his piercing blue eyes, she was a lucky lady.

Bucky had looked at you, those blue eyes looking straight into your soul, "it's for my sister, sort of, well, she's not my real sister, but she's like a - it's not for …I don't have a girlfriend."

"Oh, good." And then you kicked yourself for sounding so stupid. Bucky had given you the widest smile and written his number on a scrap of paper.

"Call me." He'd winked.

It was becoming harder to appreciate your luck when you were covered in bath water, probably the only shower you were likely to get unless Grant went to sleep quickly.

Bucky had been called out to an emergency meeting on his way to the store and as much as you loved his dedication and hard work you really, really, needed him to come home with the groceries.

You were running low on literally everything and you knew eventually you'd have to do a full shop, but now just the essentials would do. You couldn't have a repeat of lunch, hunting down some crackers, cheese and cucumbers sticks.

Distracted for a moment, Grant lined his rubber ducks up on the edge of the tub, splashing them in one by one.

"Look Mama!" He said, gleefully, "'dis one is Daddy!" He took the duck, left wing coloured in black, and made it dive into the heap of bubbles surrounding him.

"Well done, Sweetie!" You cooed, turning away quickly to hide a yawn and checking your phone.

Get your ass home or I'm ordering the pizza in instead

From the nice place

Get me some fries?

No

and I'm getting pineapple

Doll cmon now youre being cruel

It wasn't unusual for Bucky to keep his work secret, but he would normally be able to say when he was coming home. Perhaps it was really important.

Grant had just gone to sleep when the doorbell rang and you cringed, setting your pineapple heavy pizza down on the coffee table and pausing your movie.

There was a familiar silhouette in the frosted glass -

"Alexi, is everything okay?" The door swang wide open before you could even reach it. It had definitely been locked, but it was hard to keep any of the team out for long.

"Padruga! I am returning the small one." A very familiar mop of hair popped over Alexi's shoulder, face covered in cookie crumbs. For all that Grant was like you, Natalia was all Bucky, soft curls and sparkling blue eyes.

"Mommy!" She jumped from Alexi, landing heavily in your arms, "we went to Dairy Queen and I had two ice creams and one of those ice creams was vanilla and the other was choca-chol-choco-brown-extreme-blizzard-extreme."

You turned a cold eye on Alexi, "I thought we said park, dinner, home?"

"Ah how can I resist to spoiling the daughter of the Winter Soldier, if she wants extreme blizzard milk drinks I cannot say no." He shrugged, an indulgent smile peaking out of his beared.

"God," you rubbed a hand over your face. "She'll never sleep - Petal, can you go and get your pjs on please, I'll come up and help you do your teeth."

Natalia climbed the stairs quickly, sounding more like a herd of elephants than a four year old.

"Do you know what's going on with Bucky? I expected him home by now."

Alexi looked concerned, but didn't immediately start a tirade about the strength of the Winter Solider, so you felt reassured it couldn't be too serious.

"He is discussing planning with Wilson and his comrades. I have advised against it but he trusts the Captain and so we do too."

"We?"

"Yelena has been very helpful and is talking to the rest of the team. We will have a plan soon."

"So you're heading out for something?"

"Yes. I am sorry."

"Fuck."

"In Russian you can say, yebat, Mommy." Natalia's little voice floated over from the hallway and you cringed. Everytime she came back from spending time with Alexi or Yelena she seemed to have learnt a new Russian word, which wouldn't bother you, except they were almost always curse words.

"I'm all for her being bilingual, but could you maybe teach her how to say her favourite colour or something." You grouched.

"Sorry."

Alexi took a slice of pizza and left the address of the current discussions on a scrap of paper stuck to the fridge before vanishing in to the night again with the promise that you could "call anytime."

It had been two days since Bucky left on his bike to, "have a quick chat with the team, baby, don't worry, I'll swing by the store on the way home." And you were starting to move from slightly annoyed to a see-saw of furious and anxious.

He'd text a few times to let you know they hadn't left yet but the situation was complex, he'd be home very briefly before they left, just to see you and the kids, but other than that he was holed away for the foreseeable.

One week after Bucky left and you were truly stir crazy. There was only so many times you could have the same conversation with the other parents at the park before you lost your mind.

You really didn't care if Timmy or Charlie or whoever had cut their first tooth. All you cared about was what your husband was doing somewhere, anywhere, and when he'd be home safe in your arms.

It was 2am when the call came in, he was home, safe and unharmed, at the abandoned airstrip twenty miles past the town border. Yelena and Alexi were with him, also safe.

Grant was a heavy, floppy, weight in your arms as you buckled him into his car seat. But Natalia was wide awake and excited, clutching her bear to her chest and staring at the street lights in awe.

"I can't wait to see Daddy," she sighed, snuggling the top of the bear's head. You made sure to put his cologne on it, every day, while she was out at kindergarten, the same way you sprayed his pillow. So you'd both have a memory. Grant's blankie was the same and, still asleep, he pressed his chubby cheek into the cotton.

"I can't wait either, Petal, we'll be there soon."

You drove through the night, the darkness closing in around your car, streetlamps dwindling and stars appearing as you made it out of the town and towards the airstrip. There was a single plane looking almost abandoned, its tail at an angle, on the landing strip. But there was the faint glow of artificial light under the door of a metal supply shed beyond it.

You slowed the car, expecting there to be someone at the gate to the airstrip before remembering it had been closed a few years previously and there would be no one to care. It must have been a rough mission, to come back like this rather than through a real airport. It was normally Sam who let you know about his return and you could collect him from the big airport in the city or he'd appear in the night from some taxi or hire car.

You double checked to make sure the doors were locked on the car, the children dozing in the back. Grant was drooling on his blankie and Natalia, despite her assertion that she would "definitely certainly mostly stay awake until Daddy, Mommy" was bumping her head on the side of her car seat every time her eyes closed.

You stopped the car opposite the shed and flashed your lights, ready to drive off if they didn't flash back.

It went dark, then light, dark…light and the door opened. You put the handbrake on and jumped from the car, leaving the door flung open in your haste, and raced towards Bucky.

He dropped his duffle bag and swung you into his arms, latching around your waist and lifting you easily. His lips were chapped and there was the tang of blood when you pulled away from a cut on his upper lip. You cupped his face in your hands and inspected him as best you could in just the headlights.

"You're okay." You sighed, breathing him in, burying your face in his neck and squeezing your legs around his waist.

"I'm alright Doll, don't worry about me. Are you okay?" His voice was rough with sleep, his cheeks chapped with cold and he smelt faintly of fire which was disconcerting. But he was here, safe, holding you close.

"Glad you're back, baby." You smiled, kissing him again. It was amazing, even after all these years, ever though he'd been on a hundred missions. It still gave you butterflies every time he came back, not just that he returned at all, but that he came back to you.

Behind you came the sound of little fists banging on the windows.

"Daddy!" Natalia shouted and Bucky carried you, giggling, back to the car.

With practiced ease he unbuckled both children and held them close.

"My little monsters, have you been good for Mommy?"

"Yes!"

"No!" Grant giggled.

"Sounds about right." Bucky looked over Natalia's head and smiled again, soft and slow.

"I'm glad you're back." You repeated, "but if you ever take two weeks to 'pop to the store' again we're over." You wagged your finger teasingly.

"Don't worry, I got everything we needed." Bucky carried the children back to his duffle, shuffling them around so he could lumber back with everything in his arms. "Look in there."

You unzipped the bag and inside - a pack of wipes, a bottle of laundry soap and two frozen pizzas.

[bengiyo]

The Uncertain Melancholy of Our Youth

I’ve been sorting out how I feel about the end of Our Youth, and I’ve yet to arrive at something concrete that I want to say. I’ve been reading reactions from others to see if someone else could vocalize what I’m feeling, and in the process realized I wanted to talk about Our Dating Sim again. 

Like many others, I’m left with a feeling of melancholy from this show. I feel a lot like @small-dark-and-delicious in that I think this ending felt very realistic for them, because Minase has never had friends he can count on, especially the “bespectacled demon” (@chicademartinica). I find myself empathizing a lot with @asiandramas-takeover about how bleak the future feels for them.

With this series overall, I’m a bit frustrated thematically. I was glad to have @wen-kexing-apologist offering insights about the manhwa while we were watching, because, like @worm-priest, I don’t think we did much with the different kinds of people theme. 

However, I am left with some genuinely warm feelings for the characters and the actors. I loved mj’s post reflecting on how Hirukawa connects for people who dread becoming like their parents (@forcebook). Like @memiaatanonymous, I really enjoyed Motojima Junsei in this; I especially loved the way he managed his physicality and expressions when Minase had to flee Hirukawa’s house before the dad began beating Hirukawa again. 

I also agree with @delasaria-blog that Minase in the special does a lot to close out this story; I don’t think I’d feel as positively as I do at the end of this without the effectiveness of the special episode. The implied growth of these two into a relatively stable couple (@incandescentflower) worked well for, especially because Minase was left with separation anxiety (@lurkingshan). I also really liked the way the show approached a closeted couple’s feelings about marriage as an inevitability (@jemmo).

I think it was @theside-b comparing this to the disappointment I know I felt at the end of Love is Better the Second Time Around that got me thinking about Our Dating Sim. In that show, we spend the majority of our time in the present with Shin Ki Tae pursuing Lee Wan again after Lee Wan abandoned him at the end of high school. Our journey with them is about how Lee Wan hurt Ki Tae and himself, and the consequences of Lee Wan's decision. We focus there on how Lee Wan has to grapple with the fact that Ki Tae was open to his feelings.

I think most of why I’m feeling a bit unfulfilled by this project is that I had hoped we’d spend more time in the present. The opening sequence had me waiting in anticipation for their eventual reunion and reconciliation. I had hoped we’d spend the bulk of the show on that, like in Our Dating Sim, rather than on the events leading to their separation. I think I set myself up for this because I brought too much of that to the table. 

Reflecting on what the show did or didn’t do, I don’t think there was much for me to gain from seeing Hirukawa and Minase’s separate montages, though I think it would have been interesting to see Minase getting lonelier and see where he and Hirukawa lost touch over the phone incident. I personally feel like I’d have liked to see more of them getting back together and rebuilding trust, because I felt myself pulling away from this show as it spiraled over Hirukawa’s life getting worse in the middle. There was almost a really great moment of Minase trying to step forward and use his voice only to be silenced by the adults and friends in his life. 

Final Verdict: 8, Recommended With Reservations. I’m not sure how I will feel about this show in the long term, and I want to thank everyone linked above for sharing their thoughts, and all the gifmakers included for their creations. There is a useful kind of melancholy here that I personally enjoy as a person who absolutely loved All of Us Strangers (2023) last year. I am always the type who, even though I know we’re seeing marked improvement in many categories, cannot erase the scars I carry from what I survived. I struggle to find a solid coherent thought I feel coming from this one, and I hope to read more compelling reflections in the weeks to come. 

[angelinthefire]

Re: @fieldofheathers-stuff

I think approaching Arcane as a tragedy is interesting because I actually never got a tragedy vibe from it. Probably because I believe it ends on a more hopeful note. Cait and Vi together, and particularly the airship sailing into the distance. Even without the implication that Jinx is alive and on board, it's just a hopeful image imo. (I'm also coming into this with the assumption that no body=not dead. For Jinx, that's obvious, and i think you're supposed to conclude that she's alive, or at least it's very open ended. But I also think that it would be easy to bring back Warwick, Jayce, and Viktor too.)

If we're talking about tragedy, I think it's useful to have a more specific definition. There's Greek tragedies - trying to escape fate and failing. And Shakespearian tragedies - when the hero's greatest strength becomes the source of their downfall. (And there’s probably others and more detail you can get into, but I'm just talking about what I remember from high school, lol)

And there are definitely story arcs that are mostly tragic, in both senses. Like Jinx trying to escape the fate of killing the people she cares about. And Viktor’s unswerving determination to make something of himself being both the cause of his rise and his fall.

But then there's a reversal at the end of their stories. Jinx uses her destructiveness to save Vi, her curse becomes her strength. Viktor's determination is met by Jayce's determination to save him, and the inescapability of their friendship. For both of them, the mechanic of the other kind of tragedy takes over. And both of them find a kind of redemption, rather than the utter ruin that's typical of tragedies.

(This is all just occurring to me now btw)

Re: @klorophile and the idea that season 2 should have gone differently.

I disagree with that. I think the two seasons really need to be taken as a unit. The fact that season 2 involved things becoming their opposite doesn't change that they're a single story - again in Shakespeare things becoming their opposite is part of the tragedy. I also don't think the end of season 1 really functions as an ending on its own either, to me it's more of a turning point.

I also think it's a mistake to say that the message is that "you pay the consequences for your actions." That’s punishment, not consequences. Consequences can be unforseen, they can be chaotic, they can be entirely disproportionate. I think that's established very early on.

I also want to point out that in my original post, I'm talking about plot, not themes. Like the way the story is structured. It's more about characters dealing with stuff than trying to accomplish stuff.

If "consequnces" are a theme, I don't think the show is saying that consequences are payment for wrongs. It's just that everything is connected. Everything is part of a chain of actions and reactions, that you cannot control. At most, the show is saying that it's vain to think that you can plan and forsee all the consequences of your actions.

And season 2 was absolutely necessary for that, because season 2 is when things really got chaotic and out of control.

It's not about characters having to pay consequences. It's about characters having the "oh shit, this isn't what I thought it would be" realization. Every character goes through that. Where they get what they thought they wanted, but it comes along with something unexpected and unwanted.

For Caitlyn, she's always had a very strong sense of justice, and in season 1 she's always fighting against those with more power than her. And then in season 2 she is in a position of power, and she immediately does bad things. Her sense of justice doesn't matter. No one in power is innocent. That's what I get from her arc, and whether or not she suffers as a result of her actions is irrelevant. (even though she does lose an eye. that's pretty serious). She failed and she has to live with the knowledge that she failed. The consequence of her failure is that she brought war to her city.

With Jinx, it's very heavily implied that she did not die, that she escaped the explosion through the air ducts and left Piltover, that she broke the cycle and walked away. Which is what she wanted, she wanted to be free from the cycle of killing and death.

But even if you do take her ending in season 2 as a true death. She's not paying a price for her mistakes, not at all. There's a schnee video that gives a really good take on this, even though I disagree with him and belive that Jinx is alive. All Jinx ever wanted was to help the people she cares about. But time after time, she's cursed, she hurts them instead. Even when she starts to turn things around, Isha dies anyways. So Jinx sacrificing herself for Vi is a way for her to finally save her sister. Blowing up their father figure with the monkey bomb saves the day instead of destroying everything. (But again, she's not really dead).

And to reiterate: the thing that changes about consequences for season 2 is that they become chaotic and unpredictable. This is described in the "pass me a tome" scene. There's a series of clear actions and reactions, but at a certain point, if a system is agitated too much, it starts producing unintended outcomes. That's what the wild rune is, that's what Isha falling into Jinx's life is, that's what Warwick is. Order and chaos is another big theme in the show, and season 1 covered the order side of things, it involved science mastering magic. Season 2 is the chaotic outburst that follows.

Regarding Viktor and Jayce, Viktor was the one who had to be stopped most of all, because Viktor was the one trying to remove disorder from the world. Jayce believed hextech was a curse because it created the apocalypse world that he experienced, but for that to come about it required Viktor as a catalyst, so Viktor being taken out was more important than eliminating hextech. The role that Ekko plays is very simply communicated in the line, "that device can't be". It's the contradiction that still exists despite all of Viktor's efforts that breaks through his armour.

For Vi and Jinx, yes they can mend their relationship and relate to each other as equals, but like I said in my original post, that's not really the point of their story. They can be sisters again, they can still love eachother despite everything each of them has done. But they're still stuck in a cycle. What Jinx needs most of all is not a good relationship with Vi, what she needs is a fresh start. She doesn't need to rewrite her story, she needs to build something new. And saving Vi, fixing their relationship, means that Jinx can start fresh without that baggage weighing her down.

And this comes back to my reply to fieldofheathers-stuff. In that I think Arcane is structured like a tragedy, but it's also not. I don't think it has a totally sad ending. Things are melancholy for Mel and Ekko. But Jinx is free to start something new. Vi and Cait get to be in love. Even Jayce and Viktor, their story ended with love and camaraderie.

Every work of fiction involves the creators pushing the characters in a certain direction because they want it to end a certain way. The real question is how natural it feels. I think Arcane does feel natural, because the characters do not wind up with the endings they "deserve", they end in a place that feels organic considering their journeys and their conditions.

I've been thinking about how I would most concisely sum up the plot of Acane. Because I think a lot of the complaints you see come from some people result from expecting it to be a certain kind of story that it's not.

And I think the most concise way to put it is that Arcane is about consequences. The first episode starts with an explosion, that the characters spend the rest of the arc dealing with the repercussions of. And then the first arc ends with two massive events - Powder killing her family and the invention of hextech - that they spend the entire rest of the show dealing with.

I think most of the stories we get from Western media are about achieving or accomplishing something, or the failure to achieve something. And you can frame Arcane in those terms. But I think to best understand the story, you have to step out of that typical framework. Because the thing with an achievement-based story is that there is a particular end goal in mind, and I don't think Arcand has that.

Like take Vi and Jinx, for example. A typical way to frame their story would be that it's about two sisters trying to rebuild their relationship. That presupposes a certain ending: They either succeed or fail at their relationship, and that's what the focus is on.

But it's not about that. It's about - how do you deal with an event that fundamentally changes you?

In season 1, Vi's answer was to recapture what things were like before. In season 2, they try to redo the past (saving Vander) and get a different outcome, but that's impossible. The answer comes with Ekko - to build something new.

And this is all over the show - action and reaction, how the arcane wakes up, killing is a cycle.

[yassbishimvintage]

Trick'n (Studio pt 2)

Warnings: Fluff, Smut

A/N: This is for the grown and sexy. Enjoy.

Word Count: 10.1k

Banner by @cafekitsune

Amari sits in her townhouse, her thoughts swirling as she absentmindedly stirs her drink. The past few days feel like a blur of emotions, decisions, and moments that are slowly becoming more complicated. She glances around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings of her space—the soft glow of the lights, the calm of the evening settling in. Yet, her mind keeps drifting back to Brendan and everything that’s unfolded between them.

The gift of the G-Wagon, the lingering moments of closeness, the kiss... it all feels like more than just a casual connection. She never imagined things would move so fast, especially when they had so much unspoken tension hanging between them. She thought she could keep things light, professional even, but now? It’s hard to ignore the pull between them.

She can’t help but smile at the memory of his easy grin when he handed her the key, his confidence and sincerity almost disarming. But with every action, with every gesture, she starts questioning where this all leads. He’s given her so much—more than she expected, more than she’s ready for. A part of her feels overwhelmed, another part feels grateful, and yet another part wonders if this is really what she wants.

Amari stands up and moves to the window, staring out at the quiet street. It’s a calm night, the city lights twinkling in the distance. She takes a deep breath, trying to clear her mind, but her thoughts are stubborn, always returning to Brendan. The way he looks at her, the way his touch feels, it’s undeniable. But does that mean she’s ready for more? Is she ready for the messier, deeper side of what they’re starting to build?

She turns back toward her couch, her eyes falling on the key sitting on the coffee table. It’s a symbol of his intentions—he’s not just giving her a car, he’s giving her something bigger, something more meaningful. It’s easy to feel torn when someone offers you everything, and yet, it feels like there’s so much she hasn’t figured out yet.

Her phone buzzes on the table, pulling her out of her thoughts. It’s a message from him: "Hope you’re good. Just wanted to check in."

Amari sighs, running a hand through her hair. She knows what she wants to say, but there’s a hesitation. What exactly does she want from this? What does she need? She could respond, keep it light, or she could dive deeper into what’s between them. It’s a choice she’s going to have to make sooner or later.

With another deep breath, she picks up her phone and starts typing.

The truth was, she had no idea where things were headed with Brendan. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized one thing: she couldn’t ignore the chemistry between them. She couldn’t pretend that his presence in her life didn’t make everything feel just a little bit more alive. But, she knew it was going to be a balancing act—between who she was, who he was, and the world they both occupied.

She glanced at her phone again. Another message from him popped up: "You still thinking about things? Or can I convince you to join me for dinner?"

She hesitated for a moment before typing back: "I’ll be there. But we need to talk."

She hit send, already knowing the conversation ahead wouldn’t be easy, but it was necessary.

Amari stood outside the door to Brendan’s penthouse, a mix of anticipation and apprehension settling in her chest. She had been thinking about this conversation for hours, replaying her pros and cons list, trying to decide how best to approach the situation. One thing was clear—she wasn’t walking into this blindly. She wasn’t just some fleeting moment in his life. But as much as she wanted to hold her ground, there was a part of her that still yearned for the connection they had.

She took a deep breath and knocked.

The door swung open, revealing Brendan standing shirtless in the doorway, his toned frame illuminated by the soft light of the apartment. He flashed that easy, confident smile that always made her heart skip a beat. In his hands was a plate of food, and the rich aroma of the meal hit her instantly.

“Hey, Mari,” he greeted her, stepping aside to let her in. “Dinner’s ready. Hope you’re hungry.”

Amari stepped inside, the warmth of the room wrapping around her. She noticed the dim lights, the table set with candles, and the relaxed vibe of the space. Despite his casual appearance—shirtless, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips—there was a certain charm to his laid-back demeanor.

She smiled weakly, but her mind was still on the conversation she needed to have. “You didn’t have to go all out,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, even though her heart was heavy with the weight of their unspoken issues.

He gave her a knowing look, his eyes soft but mischievous. “I didn’t think you’d mind,” he said as he moved to place the plate down on the coffee table. “Come on, let’s eat.”

Amari took a seat, her fingers brushing the edge of the plate before she glanced up at him. “We need to talk about us, Brendan.”

He paused, looking at her with an intensity that told her he was listening. His lips curled slightly, but there was something behind his expression—curiosity, concern, maybe even a hint of apprehension. He sat beside her, the space between them charged with tension. “Alright,” he said, his voice steady. “What’s on your mind?”

Amari took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts before speaking. “I’ve been thinking about everything. About us. About what we’re doing. I can’t pretend like things are just simple, like I’m not getting emotionally involved in something that feels... bigger than I expected.”

Brendan shifted slightly, leaning back as he gave her his full attention. “You’re not wrong. This thing between us—” He trailed off, seemingly weighing his words carefully. “I get it. It’s not just some fling for me either.”

She frowned, her gaze searching his face. “Then why does it feel like we’re both just caught up in something we don’t fully understand? Like you’re living this life that I’m not sure I’m ready for... or even if I can handle.”

Brendan’s expression softened, and he gently took her hand in his, his thumb brushing against her skin. “Mari, I get it. I know what I’m offering isn’t always... stable. My career, my life, it’s a rollercoaster, and I can’t promise that everything’s going to be perfect. But I’m not asking you to be a part of some mess. I just want you in my life. I want you with me. The rest, we can figure out.”

She looked down at their hands, her heart pounding in her chest. His words were sincere, but there was still so much uncertainty. She had questions that she needed answers to. “What happens when things get harder? When your schedule is even more chaotic? When the attention on you gets more intense? What happens when we can’t just turn everything off and pretend like we’re just two people having a good time?”

Brendan paused, the weight of her questions settling in the room. His voice was quieter when he spoke, but it held a sense of honesty that she couldn’t ignore. “I can’t promise that everything will be easy, Mari. But I can promise I won’t just walk away when it gets tough. You and me—we have something real. It might not be the easiest thing, but I want to try. Do you?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she looked into his eyes, searching for the truth behind his words. What they had was undeniable—intense, passionate, and full of potential. But could she trust herself to navigate the complexity of their connection? Could she handle being in his world, knowing that it would never be simple?

Finally, she spoke, her voice soft but firm. “I’m willing to try. But I need to know you’re all in. That this isn’t just some phase, that you’re not going to disappear when things get difficult.”

Brendan nodded, his grip on her hand tightening just slightly. “I’m in, Mari. I’m all in. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it.”

The tension between them seemed to ease, the air feeling lighter as they both sat there, surrounded by the quiet hum of the apartment. The future was still uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, Amari felt like she had a clearer sense of where she stood.

With a small, tentative smile, she finally said, “Alright. Let’s figure this out together.”

Brendan smiled back, his relief palpable. “Together.”

As Amari smiled, her gaze met Brendan’s, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed. His hazel eyes, warm and intense, seemed to search her face, as if he were looking for something—reassurance, perhaps, or confirmation that she truly meant what she had said. She could see the sincerity in his expression, the vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored her own.

The way he looked at her made her feel seen—really seen—in a way that was both comforting and terrifying. It was like he could read her thoughts, understand the conflict in her mind without her saying a word. For a brief moment, the weight of everything they’d talked about seemed to lift, replaced by something softer, something more genuine.

She swallowed the knot in her throat, her heart fluttering as she reached out and gently touched his arm. The warmth of his skin under her fingertips sent a spark through her, grounding her in the present.

“I don’t know where this will go,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. “But I want to try. To see where it takes us.”

Brendan’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, brushing his lips against her forehead in a tender kiss. “That’s all I need to hear, Mari.”

His kiss lingered for a moment longer, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to bask in the comfort of his touch. In that instant, everything else—the confusion, the uncertainty—seemed to fade away, leaving only the connection they had built together.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a mix of playfulness and vulnerability. “So, are we going to eat, or are we just going to stare at each other all night?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood, though her heart still raced in her chest.

Brendan chuckled, the sound low and warm, before reaching for the plate of food on the table. “We can stare at each other later,” he said, his voice teasing but affectionate. “Let’s eat first. Then we can figure out the rest.”

Amari smiled, her anxiety eased for the moment, as she settled back into the couch, feeling a sense of peace she hadn’t expected. She was here, with him, ready to take the next step—whatever that might be. And for now, that was enough.

Later, as the evening settled into a quiet rhythm, Amari found herself sprawled out across Brendan’s chest, her head resting comfortably against him. The faint beat of his heart thumped softly under her ear, a reassuring sound that calmed her racing thoughts. The apartment was dimly lit, with only the soft glow from the city lights filtering in through the windows, casting shadows across the room.

Brendan’s arm was draped around her, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on her back, his touch slow and deliberate. It felt like the world outside was fading away, leaving only the two of them in this intimate, peaceful bubble.

She took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of his skin, the faint cologne he wore mixed with the smell of the food they’d shared earlier. The closeness, the softness of his touch, it made her feel both grounded and vulnerable in ways she hadn’t anticipated. She knew they had just begun to scratch the surface of whatever this was, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just a fling.

Amari tilted her head to look up at him, catching his gaze. His hazel eyes were soft, almost sleepy, but there was something more—something unspoken between them that seemed to hang in the air.

“You know,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I never really thought about what I wanted in all this... I was too focused on the fact that I shouldn’t want it.”

Brendan’s gaze softened, his hand gently running through her hair. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

Amari hesitated, her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “I mean, I spent so much time convincing myself that I should stay away from someone like you... That it would just be a mess. But now… I’m not so sure anymore.”

Brendan’s fingers stilled on her back, but his expression didn’t change. “And now?” he asked, his tone patient, as if waiting for her to find the words.

She looked up at him, her heart hammering in her chest. "Now, I think... I think I might be ready to stop running from it. From us." Her voice trembled slightly, but there was a quiet confidence behind her words. "I’m not saying it’ll be easy. I’m not saying I won’t second-guess myself at times. But maybe it’s time I stopped overthinking it.”

A soft smile tugged at Brendan’s lips as he leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not going anywhere, Mari. I’m here. And I’ll be here when things get complicated, when the world starts pushing against us.”

Amari closed her eyes, his words sinking in, and for the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of certainty. Despite the chaos that life would inevitably throw their way, she knew she wasn’t alone in it anymore. They had something, and it was enough for now.

Brendan’s hand continued to run through her hair, his touch gentle, comforting. “Let’s just take this one step at a time,” he murmured. “We’ve got time, Mari. We’ve got time.”

She nodded against his chest, the warmth of his embrace wrapping around her like a shield. There was still so much they didn’t know, so much uncertainty in the future. But for tonight, as she lay there in his arms, everything felt exactly where it needed to be.

Amari shifted slightly, her movements slow and deliberate as she adjusted herself, now straddling Brendan. The change in position brought them even closer, her knees resting on either side of his hips. She could feel the warmth of his body beneath her, the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

Brendan looked up at her, a mix of surprise and something deeper flickering in his hazel eyes. His hands instinctively moved to rest on her hips, a touch that was both grounding and possessive. There was a quiet tension in the air now, a shift in energy that pulsed between them.

Amari paused, her gaze meeting his, searching for something—confirmation, perhaps, or a sense of clarity. She was still feeling the weight of their conversation, the admission of vulnerability that had passed between them, but there was something undeniable about the chemistry that sparked whenever they were this close.

“You sure about this?” Brendan’s voice was low, almost a whisper, his hands gently brushing against her skin. His eyes held a mixture of curiosity and care, making sure she wasn’t just acting on impulse.

She nodded slowly, the quiet confidence she’d felt earlier now solidifying in her chest. “Yeah,” she whispered back, her voice thick with intent. “I’m sure.”

Without waiting for further confirmation, she leaned down, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that was gentle at first, as if testing the waters. But as they both deepened the kiss, the tension from earlier seemed to dissolve, replaced by a sense of urgency, a shared understanding that neither of them wanted to pull away just yet.

Her hands roamed to his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin, and his fingers tightened around her waist, guiding her movements. The energy between them shifted again—this time, it was as though the world outside had disappeared entirely, leaving only the two of them in this charged space.

She pulled back just slightly, her lips brushing against his, a soft exhale escaping her as she whispered, “I don’t want to hold back anymore, B.”

Brendan’s gaze darkened slightly, his breath shaky as he nodded, his hands running up her back, pulling her closer. “Then don’t,” he murmured, his lips capturing hers once more, this time with more intensity, more hunger.

The air between them grew thick with desire, each touch, each kiss, an exploration of unspoken emotions, a bridge between uncertainty and something real—something they both knew they couldn’t ignore.

Brendan’s expression softened at Amari’s words, the weight of her trust settling over him like a heavy, but welcome, responsibility. His hands gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he met her gaze. There was no rush in the way he looked at her, just a quiet understanding and respect.

“I don’t take that lightly,” he said softly, his voice low but full of sincerity. “You mean more to me than you realize, Mari. I won’t do anything you don’t want, and I’ll make sure you’re comfortable with every step.”

Amari could feel the warmth of his words, the reassurance in the way he held her. In that moment, she realized that this wasn’t just about the physical. It was about connection, about trust, about the depth of what they were starting to build together.

She nodded, her heart steadying as she smiled down at him. “I know. I’m not afraid with you.”

Brendan smiled back, his hand moving to the small of her back to pull her in closer. “Good,” he whispered, brushing his lips against hers once more, as if sealing the promise they had just made. There was a mutual understanding now—this wasn’t just about the moment, but about the trust they were giving each other, the respect they would continue to show.

They were both learning and growing in this, but for now, all that mattered was the quiet connection they shared, the honesty of the moment, and the warmth of knowing they were both choosing to take this next step together.

As Amari smiled, the soft warmth of the morning light still casting its glow across the room, she shifted, leaning into Brendan’s chest. He stirred slightly at the motion, but didn’t fully wake, his arm instinctively pulling her closer as she nestled herself under him. She felt safe and content, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing in the quiet morning.

She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, the connection they shared growing deeper with each passing day. There was a sense of calm between them, a peaceful reassurance that even though the world outside could be chaotic, here, in this space, they were just two people learning to trust and understand each other.

Brendan shifted slightly, his voice low and groggy as he mumbled, “You good?”

Amari smiled, her fingers lightly tracing the tattoos on his arm as she nodded, her body still relaxed against his. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice soft. “I’m good. Better than good.”

He hummed in response, tightening his embrace, his lips pressing gently to her forehead in a silent gesture of affection. For a moment, there were no words, just the comfort of shared presence, both of them content to stay like this a little longer, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

It wasn’t just the emotional connection that made her smile—it was the understanding that they were building something real, something that went beyond the surface. And in that moment, with the quiet of the morning surrounding them, she felt more certain than ever that this was exactly where she was meant to be.

Amari watched as Brendan moved around the room, his energy a stark contrast to the stillness of the morning. She smiled softly, her eyes following the way his muscles flexed as he searched through his drawers. There was something about the way he carried himself, effortlessly confident yet grounded, that drew her in even more.

She wrapped the covers around her waist tighter, feeling the warmth of the fabric against her skin as she sat up in bed. Her thoughts lingered on the moments they’d shared last night, and the quiet morning they were now experiencing together. It felt surreal in the best way—like they were in a bubble that no one could touch.

Brendan glanced over his shoulder at her, catching her watching him. His lips curled into a playful grin, and he shrugged casually. “You look comfy there,” he said, his voice teasing but soft.

Amari couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound light and carefree. “I was just enjoying the view,” she replied, her gaze lingering on him, unabashedly appreciating how relaxed he seemed.

He chuckled, his eyes warming as he returned to his search. “I’m looking for my wallet,” he explained, pulling open another drawer.

Amari leaned back against the headboard, feeling a contentedness she hadn’t experienced in a while. She hadn’t expected to wake up like this, not so peaceful, not so sure about what came next. But as Brendan moved around the room, she realized that things didn’t always have to be figured out right away. They could just exist in the moment, and that was enough for now.

When he finally found what he was looking for, he turned back to her, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “You sure you don’t want to get dressed before I take you out for breakfast?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed the way the covers pooled around her.

Amari rolled her eyes playfully. “Only if you’re paying,” she teased, her tone light.

Brendan grinned, his eyes softening. “Of course. Just don’t take too long,” he said, as he began to head for the door. “I’m starving.”

As he left the room, Amari leaned back, still feeling the warmth of his presence lingering in the air. There was something effortlessly comfortable about him, and for the first time in a while, she felt like maybe—just maybe—things were falling into place.

Brendan paused, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked at her. His gaze softened as he settled in closer, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Mushy?” he repeated, his voice low, teasing. “I’m just trying to show you how much I appreciate you, Mari.”

Amari raised an eyebrow, her smile widening as she pushed him playfully off of her. “Uh-huh. Appreciation, huh?” she said, rolling her eyes but still laughing lightly. “You don’t get to just turn it on and off like that, B. I already told you. We’re not doing this whole push-and-pull thing.”

Brendan chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers. He sat back, taking a moment to adjust himself, his playful expression melting into something more genuine. “Alright, alright,” he said, his tone softer. “I hear you. No more trying to be all sweet and cuddly if it’s gonna make you roll your eyes at me.”

She smiled, her arms crossing over her chest, but there was a certain softness in her gaze that wasn’t lost on him. “You’re not bad when you’re not being all dramatic,” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, feigning offense. “I’m not dramatic. I’m just—” He cut himself off, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “—just trying to be here with you. And, yeah, maybe it’s a little different for me. But I can’t help it.”

Amari's expression softened at his words, and for a brief moment, the playful teasing gave way to something deeper. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that he was letting slip through, even if he wasn’t always great at showing it.

“You don’t have to try so hard, B,” she said quietly, reaching up to touch his face. “You’ve got me already.”

The room fell into a brief silence, the air between them filled with unspoken understanding. There were no walls up now—just the two of them, navigating this complicated thing they were building together. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but it felt real. And for now, that was enough.

As Amari kissed him, her hands slid to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, a quiet yet powerful shift in the energy between them. The playful teasing melted into something more tender, more grounded, as their lips met with a deeper connection than before.

Brendan responded instinctively, his arms wrapping around her waist as he leaned into the kiss, his chest pressing against hers. There was no rush, no urgency—just the softness of the moment, both of them savoring the intimacy, feeling the warmth of each other's presence.

When they finally broke the kiss, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the quiet space between them. Amari smiled, her fingers gently tracing his jawline as she met his gaze. "You know, you're not so bad when you're not being all dramatic," she teased softly, her voice laced with affection.

Brendan let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I guess you’ve got me figured out, huh?" he replied, his tone light but his eyes filled with sincerity.

Amari shrugged, still smiling. "Not fully," she said with a playful gleam in her eye, "but I’m working on it." She leaned in for another soft kiss, this time lingering just a little longer, letting the kiss speak for everything they hadn’t said out loud.

It was moments like this that reminded her—there was something real here, something that didn’t need to be defined right away. She wasn’t sure where things were going, but for now, she was okay with letting them unfold naturally.

“Now I can say the Mid Sized Sedan is my boyfriend.” She says holding back a laugh. He gives her a fake hurt look. 

Amari laughed, a soft sound that bubbled from her chest. "Well, you’ve got all the features—good looks, reliability, and the ability to keep up with me when I need you to." She leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his lips. "Plus, you’re surprisingly comfortable."

Brendan chuckled, his arms tightening around her in a playful yet affectionate gesture. "You’re lucky I like the nickname," he said, his voice teasing but with a warmth that matched the softness in his eyes. "But if you keep calling me that, I might have to start charging you for the ride."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade. "You’re ridiculous," she teased, though there was an undeniable affection in her voice. "But you’re my ridiculous boyfriend, so I guess I’ll let it slide."

Brendan kissed her forehead, his hand gently brushing through her hair as he relaxed back into the bed. "I guess that makes two of us, then," he said quietly, his tone softening as he spoke the words he hadn’t quite expected to say, but found himself feeling anyway.

Amari looked at him, her heart fluttering at the thought of how naturally everything was falling into place. It didn’t matter what nickname he carried or what complications came along with their relationship. In this moment, it was just the two of them, and that was enough.

"Yeah," she murmured, leaning in closer. "It does."

Brendan chuckled softly, pulling her a little closer before letting her go with a playful smile. "Alright, alright. Go get your shower, Mari. I know I’m irresistible, but even I can't compete with a hot shower and some fresh clothes."

Amari rolled her eyes but smiled as she slid out of bed, the warmth of their moment still lingering in the air. "You’re lucky you’ve got that charm," she said, tossing him a teasing glance over her shoulder as she walked toward the bathroom. "Or you’d be getting the cold shoulder right about now."

Brendan laughed, his eyes following her as she disappeared into the bathroom. He stretched back onto the bed, his mind still lingering on their earlier conversation and the shift in their relationship. It felt different now—more real, more grounded. They weren’t just having fun or living in the moment anymore; they were finding something deeper between them.

He shook his head with a smile. "Cold shoulder? Yeah, right."

As the sound of the shower started, Brendan lay back, his thoughts drifting to the future and what it might hold for him and Amari. Whatever happened, he was starting to feel like he was ready for whatever was next.

A few days later she’s missing him. 

Amari sat on her couch, her legs tucked beneath her, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone. The TV was on in the background, playing a show she wasn’t really watching. Brendan was out of town for a shoot, and for the first time in weeks, she had a quiet evening to herself.

But her mind wasn’t quiet.

She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Specifically, about how they hadn’t crossed that line yet. She was surprised. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to—hell, she wanted to. Brendan wasn’t shy about his feelings either. The way he looked at her, touched her, kissed her—it was clear he was just as ready. Yet, somehow, they hadn’t gone there.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts. It was a text from him.

Brendan: Hey, you miss me yet?

She smiled, biting her bottom lip as she typed back.

Amari: Maybe. Why? You miss me?

The dots appeared, then stopped, then started again. Typical Brendan, always taking his time with the perfect response.

Brendan: Of course I miss you. Who else is going to keep me humble?

She laughed, shaking her head. He always knew how to lighten the mood, even from miles away. Still, her thoughts lingered on their relationship. They’d been dancing around the idea of taking things further, but something—maybe timing, maybe hesitation—always seemed to hold them back.

Why hadn’t they done it yet? Was he waiting for the right moment? Or was he afraid of messing up what they already had?

She sighed, setting her phone on the coffee table. The truth was, she liked what they had now, but she also couldn’t deny that the thought of being with him in every way sent a thrill down her spine. Maybe it was just a matter of time.

Her phone buzzed again.

Brendan: Be honest. You’re thinking about me right now, aren’t you?

Amari smirked, shaking her head as she typed her reply.

Amari: What makes you so sure?

His response came almost immediately.

Brendan: Because I’m thinking about you.

Her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she wondered if tonight would be the night they finally had that conversation. Even if he was out of town, it felt like they were closer than ever.

Amari stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen as a smile played on her lips. Her heart was racing, the thought of finally addressing the unspoken topic between them both exciting and terrifying. She wanted to ask the question, but what if it made things weird?

Still, the way Brendan had been so open lately, his texts filled with warmth and teasing affection, gave her the courage she needed.

Amari: Can I ask you something?

She hit send before she could change her mind. The three dots appeared almost immediately.

Brendan: You can ask me anything, Mari. What’s on your mind?

She bit her bottom lip, staring at his words. Taking a deep breath, she typed out her response.

Amari: Why haven’t we, you know… done it yet?

She hit send, then immediately tossed her phone onto the couch as if it might explode. The seconds that passed felt like an eternity, and she almost regretted asking. But then her phone buzzed.

Brendan: You mean why haven’t we had sex yet?

Amari felt her cheeks heat up. Of course, he’d just say it outright.

Amari: Yeah. I guess I was just wondering if there’s a reason. Or if you’re waiting for something.

This time, the dots took longer to appear, and she held her breath, anxiously waiting for his reply.

Brendan: Honestly? I’ve thought about it. A lot. But I didn’t want to rush you. I know what we have is special, and I didn’t want to mess it up by moving too fast.

Her chest tightened at his words. Brendan wasn’t just some guy who was looking for the next thrill—he really cared about her.

Amari: I appreciate that. But you know, I’m not holding back because I don’t want to. I think I’ve just been waiting for the right moment too.

There was a pause before his next message came through.

Brendan: Maybe when I’m back, we stop waiting and just see where the moment takes us.

She smiled, her heart fluttering as she typed her response.

Amari: I’d like that.

For the first time that night, Amari felt at ease. Whatever happened next, she knew they’d handle it together.

Amari leaned back on the couch, her phone still in her hand as another thought hit her. Before anything else, she’d been Brendan’s hairstylist. It was how this whole thing between them had started—the playful banter, the lingering glances, and eventually, the deeper connection.

She smirked as she typed out a text.

Amari: You could use a retwist, by the way. Just saying.

It didn’t take long for his reply.

Brendan: Wow. I’m out of town for two days, and you’re already throwing shade?

She laughed out loud, shaking her head.

Amari: I’m just saying, B. Don’t forget who keeps you looking this good.

The dots appeared and disappeared before his message came through.

Brendan: How could I forget? You’re the one who has me sitting between your legs every other week.

Her cheeks flushed at the double meaning in his words.

Amari: Careful, or I’ll start charging extra.

Brendan: You already charge me in other ways, remember?

She rolled her eyes, her smile growing. He always knew how to keep the conversation light and playful, even when there was an undertone of seriousness.

Amari: Fine, but when you get back, I’m fixing that mess on your head.

Brendan: Deal. Only if it means I get to see you sooner.

Her heart skipped a beat at his response. She placed her phone on the coffee table, her mind drifting again. No matter how their relationship unfolded, she knew one thing for sure—Brendan always had a way of making her feel seen and wanted, whether it was in his texts or the way he looked at her during those moments in the shop.

It made her excited for whatever was coming next.

When Brendan finally got back to the city, Amari wasted no time texting him to come over. True to her word, she had her tools ready and a fresh jar of gel waiting.

He walked into her townhouse, his hazel eyes lighting up the moment he saw her. "You ready to fix this mess?" he asked, gesturing to his hair with a grin.

She smirked, rolling her eyes. "You’re lucky I care, B. Sit down."

Brendan dropped onto the floor between her legs like it was second nature, leaning back slightly as she started sectioning his hair. Her hands worked expertly, parting and twisting with precision. The familiar intimacy of the moment settled between them as they talked about his trip, her latest clients, and everything in between.

“Feels good to be home,” Brendan murmured, his voice soft and content.

She smiled, finishing one twist and moving to the next. “Feels good to have you back. You were starting to look wild out there.”

He chuckled, tilting his head to give her better access. “That wild look got me some compliments, though.”

Amari laughed, playfully tugging at one of the twists she’d just finished. “Yeah, well, those people clearly don’t know quality when they see it. Now hold still.”

The minutes passed in comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional hum of approval from Brendan as she worked. When she was done, she leaned back, admiring her handiwork.

“There. You’re human again,” she teased, brushing stray hair off his shoulders.

Brendan turned slightly, his hazel eyes meeting hers. “You always know how to take care of me, Mari.”

Before she could respond, his hands found her thighs, gently rubbing them as he stayed seated on the floor. His touch was slow and deliberate, his thumbs pressing into her skin in a way that made her breath hitch.

“B…” she started, but her voice trailed off as his hands slid a little higher, his gaze never leaving hers.

“You good?” he asked softly, his tone laced with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

She swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good,” he said, leaning forward slightly. His hands stayed on her thighs, his touch both grounding and electrifying as he closed the small distance between them.

Neither of them moved to get up. The moment stretched on, heavy with unspoken words and unrestrained tension, until Amari finally gave in, leaning down to kiss him. Whatever came next, they both knew they were exactly where they wanted to be.

Amari tried to stay composed, but Brendan’s hands were doing things to her she couldn’t ignore. His thumbs rubbed slow, teasing circles into her thighs, and every time his hazel eyes flicked up to meet hers, it sent a jolt of heat through her.

She shifted in her seat, trying to focus on anything else, but the way he stayed on the floor, his strong frame relaxed between her legs, made it impossible to think straight.

"B…" she whispered, her voice shaky.

His gaze didn’t waver. “What’s wrong, Mari?”

She inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself, but it was no use. The warmth of his hands, the way his thumbs crept a little higher each time—it was all too much. "I can’t…"

"You can’t what?" he asked, his tone soft, almost teasing.

She bit her lip, her restraint dissolving with every passing second. “I can’t take it anymore,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Brendan’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. “Then don’t,” he said simply, his voice low and inviting.

That was all it took. Amari leaned forward, her hands finding his face as she kissed him with a desperation she couldn’t hold back anymore. He responded instantly, his hands gripping her thighs tighter as he pulled her closer.

She slid off the chair and onto the floor, straddling him as the kiss deepened. Brendan’s hands moved to her waist, anchoring her to him as her fingers tangled in his freshly retwisted hair.

“I knew this would happen,” he murmured against her lips, his voice husky.

“Shut up,” she replied breathlessly, pulling him closer as the last of her self-control slipped away.

The living room disappeared around them as they gave in to the moment, the tension that had been simmering for weeks finally boiling over. Neither of them cared about what came next—right now, all that mattered was each other.

Brendan’s hands slid up her sides, taking her shirt with them. When he lifted it over her head and tossed it aside, he froze for a moment, his hazel eyes taking in the sight of her. She was wearing a black lace bra—the one he’d mentioned was his favorite before.

He ran his fingers along the delicate material, a small, appreciative smile forming on his lips. “You knew I’d like this, didn’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Amari’s cheeks flushed, but she smirked back at him. “Maybe. Or maybe it was just laundry day.”

He laughed softly, his hands traveling to her back, tracing lazy circles along her skin. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

His lips found her collarbone, pressing soft kisses along the curve of her neck and shoulder as his hands explored the familiar contours of her body. Every touch, every kiss, sent shivers down her spine.

“You’re so damn beautiful, Mari,” he whispered against her skin.

She tipped her head back, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved lower, his lips brushing along the edge of the lace. The way he touched her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, made her heart race.

“Brendan…” she breathed, her voice trembling with need.

He looked up at her then, his eyes smoldering with a mix of affection and desire. “Tell me what you want,” he said softly, his hands resting on her hips, grounding her.

“You,” she whispered without hesitation, her hands tangling in his hair. “Always you.”

His smile widened as he pulled her closer, sealing her words with a kiss that left no room for doubt.

Brendan smirked, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter as he kissed the sensitive spot on her neck. “You sure about that?” he teased, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through her.

Amari tilted her head back further, her body arching into him. “Yes,” she said, her voice breathy but firm. “Fuck this foreplay, B. I need you. Now.”

His smirk turned into a grin as he looked up at her, his hazel eyes dark with desire. “Well, if that’s what you want…” he murmured.

Without another word, he stood up, taking her with him as if she weighed nothing. Amari wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers clutching his shoulders as he carried her effortlessly toward the bedroom.

“Brendan—” she started, but he cut her off with a kiss so deep it stole her breath.

When he reached the bed, he gently laid her down, his body following hers as he hovered over her. “No turning back now,” he said, his voice low and serious, though the corner of his mouth quirked up in a teasing smile.

She reached up, pulling him down to her. “I wasn’t planning to.”

Their bodies moved together, the tension that had been building between them for so long finally snapping as they gave in to everything they’d been holding back. Time seemed to stop as the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them in the heat of the moment. Moans and skin slapping was all that filled the room. 

Amari blinked awake, her body still deliciously sore from the night before. The sunlight streaming through the blinds made her squint as she adjusted to being awake. She shifted slightly, realizing she was sprawled out in her bed, her covers barely clinging to her.

Turning her head, she saw Brendan sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed in his boxers and one of his favorite hoodies. His broad back was to her as he tapped away on his phone.

"Morning," she murmured, her voice still heavy with sleep.

He glanced back over his shoulder, his hazel eyes softening when they met hers. “Morning, beautiful,” he replied with a small smile.

She stretched lazily, her body still buzzing with the remnants of last night. “What are you doing?”

“Texting my manager,” he said, holding up his phone briefly before turning his attention back to the screen. “She’s asking about studio time later today.”

Amari sighed, propping herself up on one elbow. “You’re already working?”

He chuckled and set his phone down for a moment, turning to face her. “Gotta stay on my grind, Mari. You know how it is.”

She reached out, tugging playfully at the hem of his hoodie. “Yeah, but can’t your grind wait for breakfast in bed? Or… you know, round two?”

Brendan’s grin widened, and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “As tempting as that is, I gotta handle this first. But don’t worry,” he added, his voice lowering as he kissed her again, this time on the lips. “I’ll make time for you.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and she smiled against his mouth. “You better.”

He pulled back, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Always.”

As Brendan stood up, preparing to grab his jeans from the nearby chair, Amari reached out, her fingers slipping into the waistband of his boxers. She tugged gently, a sly smile spreading across her face as she leaned back against the pillows.

“Leaving already?” she teased, her voice soft but playful.

He paused, glancing down at her with an amused smirk. “I told you, Mari, I gotta handle this,” he said, though he didn’t make a move to step away from her touch.

She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “You’re really going to leave me here like this? After last night?” Her fingers trailed along the edge of the waistband, sending a shiver up his spine.

Brendan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

She grinned, tugging at the waistband a little more insistently. “Maybe. But you like it.”

He leaned over her, bracing his hands on either side of her body as he met her gaze. “You’re making it real hard to leave right now.”

“That’s the point,” she said, her voice dropping into a whisper as her fingers toyed with the fabric.

For a moment, he hovered there, torn between his responsibilities and the undeniable pull of her presence. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh and kissed her deeply, his hands sliding to her waist.

“Fine,” he murmured against her lips, “but only for a few more minutes.”

Amari laughed softly, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pulled him closer. “That’s all I need.”

As Brendan finally left with a lingering kiss and a promise to call her later, Amari flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. She let out a long sigh, the faint scent of his cologne still clinging to her sheets.

For a moment, she stayed there, basking in the afterglow of his presence and the memory of the night before. But reality crept back in. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, reminding her of the packed schedule ahead.

With a groan, she dragged herself out of bed, stretching as she made her way to the bathroom. “Alright, Amari,” she muttered to herself, splashing water on her face. “Time to get it together. You’ve got clients waiting.”

After a quick shower, she threw on her go-to stylist outfit—something comfortable yet chic—and tied her braids up into a neat bun. As she gathered her tools and checked her appointment book, her mind kept drifting back to Brendan.

She shook her head, smiling to herself. “Focus, girl,” she whispered. “You’ve got work to do.”

By the time she walked into her salon, the familiar hum of chatter and the smell of hair products snapped her back into her professional zone. Her first client was already waiting, scrolling on her phone.

“Hey, Mari!” the client greeted, looking up. “Ready to work your magic?”

Amari smiled warmly, setting her tools on the counter. “Always,” she replied, pushing thoughts of Brendan to the back of her mind—for now.

During a brief lull between clients, Amari slipped her phone from her pocket. She smiled when she saw it was a text from Brendan.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking about last night… You’re still on my mind.”

Her heart fluttered as she typed a quick reply. “I’m flattered. You’re still on mine too.”

Almost instantly, his response pinged back. “I know you’ve got clients, but when you get a moment, can I see you later?”

Amari bit her lip, considering for a moment. She had a few more appointments, but there was something about him that made her want to say yes without hesitation. She glanced at the clock—she still had some time before her next client arrived.

“I’d like that. Let me wrap up here first, and I’ll text you when I’m free.”

Brendan’s reply came almost immediately. “Looking forward to it. I’ll be waiting.”

Amari smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. As much as she tried to focus on her work, her mind couldn’t help but wander back to Brendan—his smile, the way he made her feel… and what could happen next.

By the time Amari finished her last client of the day, the evening was settling in. She felt a mix of exhaustion and excitement as she quickly tidied up her station and grabbed her bag. A quick glance at her phone revealed a text from Brendan.

“I’m already at the spot, waiting for you. Can’t wait to see you.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She typed back quickly. “Be there in 20.”

After a quick change into a simple yet stylish outfit, Amari made her way to the restaurant. It was a cozy, upscale spot known for its quiet ambiance and excellent food, a place Brendan often chose when he wanted to get away from the chaos of his life.

When she walked through the door, her eyes scanned the room until they landed on him sitting at a corner table, looking effortlessly handsome. His hazel eyes locked with hers, and he stood up with a smile, greeting her as she approached.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, his voice warm and inviting as he kissed her cheek.

“Hey, you,” she replied, feeling a flutter in her stomach. She slipped into the seat across from him.

Brendan’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, and she noticed a quiet admiration in his eyes. “You look stunning, as always.”

“Thanks,” Amari smiled, settling in. “You clean up well yourself.”

He chuckled, glancing at the menu. “I wanted to make tonight special. So, what’s your vibe? Something light, or are you ready for a feast?”

She laughed softly, glancing at the menu as well. “I’m thinking something hearty tonight. I’ve been craving steak all day.”

Brendan grinned, knowing exactly what she was referring to. “I’ll take that as a challenge. You know I’m a steak guy.”

As they talked over dinner, the conversation flowed easily. It was casual yet filled with moments of genuine connection—laughter, teasing, and quiet glances shared between bites of food. Amari found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t expected, enjoying the simple act of being with him without any pressure.

When the meal was over, they lingered over drinks, talking about everything and nothing. Brendan seemed at ease, and Amari felt the same way. The connection between them felt deeper now, like a shared understanding and unspoken promise.

“So, what’s next?” Amari asked, her voice softening.

Brendan looked at her, his eyes reflecting something more than just the fun of the evening. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want this night to end just yet.”

She smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. “Neither do I.”

With that, the night began to feel like it was just the beginning of something new, something real.

“You still owe me for round two. But I’ll settle for a make out.” she says.

Brendan grinned, clearly amused by her words. "Oh, so now you're keeping score, huh?" he teased, his fingers gently brushing her arm as he pulled her closer. "Guess I’ll just have to make it up to you tonight."

Amari raised an eyebrow, her playful smirk never faltering. "You better, B. I’m not going to let you off easy after this morning’s… 'round one'."

He chuckled, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. "I’m up for the challenge," he murmured, his voice low and confident.

Amari couldn't help but smile into the kiss, the tension of the morning finally melting away. It was as if all the teasing, all the playful banter, had led them here—right where they both wanted to be.

"Just remember," she said, pulling back just slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "You promised a long night of making up for it. No backing out now."

Brendan leaned in again, his lips finding hers with a renewed intensity. "No backing out," he murmured against her lips. "I plan to keep every promise I make to you, Mari."

And with that, the night stretched out before them, filled with promises, laughter, and the kind of chemistry they both had been craving.

A few days later she’s standing at his door. She hears Jacquees’ ‘No Questions.’ playing through the door. 

The soft, rhythmic beats of Jacquees' "No Questions" filled the room as Amari and Brendan found themselves nestled together on the couch, the dim lighting of the penthouse casting a warm glow over the space. They were both still feeling the lingering energy of the day—the shoot, the playful chemistry between them, and now, this quiet moment together.

Brendan pulled her closer, his fingers tracing the line of her arm as she leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. She could feel the tension of the day melting away, replaced by the soft hum of intimacy.

"You were amazing today," Brendan whispered into her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "The way you just owned that shoot... I couldn’t stop watching you."

Amari smiled, a soft blush creeping across her cheeks. She wasn’t used to this side of Brendan—the way he could be both the intense artist and the caring, attentive man in front of her. But tonight, it was just them, no pressure, no cameras, just the music, and the feeling of being close.

"I love when you say stuff like that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she shifted to face him. "Makes me feel like I’m really a part of this, you know?"

He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing along her jawline. "You’re more than a part of this, Mari. You’re everything."

The song played on, its sensual beat matching the quiet, passionate exchange between them. There was no need for words, just the shared understanding that this moment was theirs. As the music swirled around them, Brendan leaned in and kissed her softly, their lips moving in sync with the rhythm of the song. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection they shared.

"No questions," he murmured against her lips, the lyrics of the song perfectly echoing their unspoken bond. "Just you and me."

As Amari settled into his lap, her body relaxed, and she closed her eyes, savoring the peace and comfort of the moment. The sound of Jacquees’ smooth voice blended with the soft rhythm of the music, creating the perfect backdrop for their quiet time together. She could feel Brendan’s warmth radiating through her, the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath her as he stroked her hair with a calm tenderness.

For once, there were no distractions, no demands pulling them in different directions. Just the soft glow of the penthouse lights, the hum of the music, and the feeling of being safe and cherished in his presence.

Brendan watched her, his eyes soft as he traced small circles on her arm, lost in the stillness of the moment. He could tell she was content, and that peace between them was something he never wanted to lose.

"You’re perfect like this," he said quietly, almost to himself, as he continued to play with her hair. "So calm, so beautiful... I just want you to always feel this safe."

Amari smiled faintly, her lips curving as she gazed up at him. “I do. I feel like I can be myself with you. No pressure, just... us.”

Brendan’s heart softened at her words, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "That’s all I want, Mari. Just you."

The song played on, and they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s company, neither needing to say anything more. In that moment, they were everything to each other, and it felt like the world could wait.

Amari rubbed her eyes, groggily sitting up in bed as the sunlight filtered through her curtains. She stretched, then froze when she noticed the delivery outside her door. Curious, she quickly got up and walked over, finding a bouquet of fresh flowers—roses, lilies, and some baby’s breath—arranged beautifully, their vibrant colors almost glowing against the sleek Louis Vuitton box placed next to them.

Her heart skipped a beat as she carefully bent down to pick up the box. It was heavy and well-packaged, sealed with the signature LV logo. She bit her lip, a smile spreading across her face as she wondered what Brendan could have sent her.

She brought the items inside and sat on the couch, the flowers resting on the coffee table beside her. Slowly, she opened the box, revealing a stunning leather bag—an elegant and timeless piece that instantly caught her eye. It was a classic Louis Vuitton Speedy, the rich monogram canvas shining with perfection. Amari’s breath caught in her throat as she ran her fingers over the smooth, luxurious leather handles.

A note was tucked inside the bag, and she unfolded it carefully:

"For my beautiful Mari. I know we’re figuring things out, but I couldn’t help but show you how much you mean to me. I’m thinking of you always. – B"

Her heart warmed as she read the note, the gesture leaving her feeling both cherished and slightly overwhelmed. She had always appreciated his thoughtful side, but this... this was next level. She could feel how much he cared for her in every stitch of that bag, every petal of the flowers.

She smiled to herself, her fingers still tracing the bag’s edge. Her thoughts drifted back to last night, the softness of his words, the comfort of his presence, and how easily everything felt with him.

What are we doing, B? she thought, unsure but excited to see where this connection was leading them. Still, she couldn’t deny how much she loved the attention, the gifts, the thoughtfulness. It felt real, and she felt wanted in a way she hadn’t expected.

As she texted Brendan a quick thank you, she knew she’d have to figure out what all this meant for them, but for now, she could just enjoy the moment and the man who was clearly more than just a passing chapter.

Amari stood behind her chair in the shop, glancing at the clock as she finished organizing her tools and equipment. It was a quiet morning, the usual hum of the shop barely audible as she prepped for her next client. Brendan had left town for a few days, leaving her to handle her work on her own. She wasn’t exactly complaining—she was used to working solo, but there was a lingering thought in her mind.

After the last few days, the gifts, the intimacy, the way things felt when they were together, it was hard not to wonder what the future held for them. Her mind kept drifting to that note he had written, how he’d thought of her even when they weren’t physically together. It made her feel special, but also uncertain about the space between them. She wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable. With clients constantly in and out, and the music from the speakers keeping her grounded, it was easy to keep busy and push thoughts aside.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a text from Brendan.

“Just wanted to check in on you. How’s the day going? Miss you.”

She smiled softly at the message, her fingers lingering over the keys as she thought about her reply. She missed him too—more than she had expected. She typed back quickly.

“It’s good. Quiet, but that’s a blessing some days. Miss you too. Can’t wait for you to get back.”

She hit send, leaning back in her chair as she waited for her client to arrive. As she stared at the phone, another thought crossed her mind. What was she really looking for in this? She’d always kept things casual, enjoying the attention and the fun. But with Brendan, it was different.

She let out a soft sigh, mentally shaking off the thoughts. For now, she had to focus on the work in front of her. There would be time to figure things out when the time came.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @notpradagurl7 @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @pocketsizedpanther @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout

[cellythefloshie]

;; Locked In    by cellythefloshie

Summary: When the NHL season is abruptly halted by a global pandemic, and you find yourself sharing your tiny apartment with your brother's rookie teammate, Quinn Hughes. Kinks & TW: Tanev Sister Reader, Forced Proximity, Secret Hook-up/Romance, 2019-2020 Season, Covid-19 Lockdown, Hints of Mild Dominance from Quinn, Mild Alcohol Consumption, Dry Humping, Vaginal Fingering, A Little Angsty (unresolved). Word Count: 4k+ A/N: I hadn't planned to post anything in January. I was just going to post my Best of 2024 and be done until February. BUT then I decided I wanted to challenge myself a little. I wanted to write for a player I thought I would never write for. AND then I was writing for a time I never thought I would write before because, of course, his rookie season had to be during the pandemic. Please be gentle with me. I took a lot of creative liberties here, but I hope you all enjoy.

“Why does he have to stay here?”

The tension in your shoulders grew as you glared up at your brother Chris. If your words hadn’t been clear enough in telling him just how displeased you were with his proposition, your body language would have to help get the point across. 

“It’s just for a few days until they get everything figured out,” Chris replied, brushing off your annoyance with a casual shrug with an ease that left a bad taste in your mouth—and it really shouldn’t have. As your big brother, he had years of practice in the art of convincing you to do things you didn’t want to do. 

Sighing, you passed Chris and at the player your brother was hoping you’d welcome into the small one-bedroom apartment you called home. Quinn Hughes, the team's rookie defenseman. Tall, and handsome, you had done your best to keep your distance from him when you had met once before—knowing yourself too well to trust that you would behave around a guy like him. 

He was shy back then and seemed just as timid as he stood awkwardly in the hallway, pretending not to hear the conversation you were having with Chris. Quinn kept his head down, his warm brown eyes locked on the floor like a sad, pound puppy that nobody wanted, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his team branded hoodie. 

Forcing a smile, your gaze focused back up on your brother, and his toothy grin that was always just enough to convince you. 

“It’s bad enough that there’s some illness going around that’s so serious that they halted the season and the world feels like it’s ending,” you began, “but now you’re locking me in my apartment with the team’s rookie?”

“I can hear you, you know?” Quinn spoke up from the hallways, his gaze raising from the floor for the first time since he had arrived. 

Your heart beat hastened, and it pounded so strongly you could feel it against the delicate flesh of your throat. It raced so quickly; you thought it might burst through your chest as a wave of heated embarrassment washed over you. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you tried to play it cool, but if Quinn had reached out and felt just how sweaty your hands had become, he would know just how much of a facade it was. “Why can’t he stay with you?” You cocked your head as you brought your arms up to cross over your chest, begging him to get to the point he was trying to make. 

“The kids’ daycare is closed. Mom’s flying in before things get worse–but he’s my responsibility since we already got Petey home to Sweden and they don’t want any of the guy alone for-” Chris cut himself off, as if there was more to say but he didn’t want you to hear it. You hung on his words for a moment, ready to question him on it, but you didn’t. You knew better than to question your big brother. 

“Does mom think it’s a good idea to stick me in an apartment with him?” You challenged him in a last ditch effort to try to get out of the familial obligation of helping out your brother when he needed it. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” His smile grew wider as he placed Quinn’s bag down on the floor just inside the door. 

“You know,” you sighed, leaning against your door, giving Quinn just enough room to come inside, “instead of flying mom home, Quinn could have helped with the kids.” It was your final, half-serious attempt to escape the arrangement, but it only made your brother laugh. 

“Thanks, Sis,” he said simply, ignoring your every attempt to say no before he was gone, leaving you and Quinn alone in your apartment. 

You lingered by the door for a moment, your head resting against the surface as you let out a steady breath. Maybe if Chris had given you a heads up, you might have felt differently about the entire situation, but your place was in no condition for a houseguest. Dishes had piled up in the sink, your laundry was half folded on the couch, and you were in the middle of rewatching your favorite television series on Netflix as a way to avoid the hell that was going on in the world. And Quinn, he was just going to have to accept all of it. 

But only for a few days. 

With a sigh, you pushed back from the door and forced a smile. “Sorry about the mess,” you told him as you moved to the couch and gathered armfuls of clothes. “You can set yourself up on the couch. Put on anything you like. I’ll get this all out of the way.”

“Do you need a hand?” Quinn offered, and you almost flinched. You hadn’t expected him to be so nice. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assured, carrying the clothes into your bedroom before throwing them onto your bed. You would deal with them later. First, you would have to deal with Quinn. 

Leaving your room, you shut the door firmly behind you. “That’s my room,” you gestured to the closed door, “it’s off limits to you unless stated otherwise. Obviously, you’re in the living room, which also happens to be the kitchen and the dining room. And through there is the bathroom, and if you can manage all of that without getting lost, tomorrow I can show you where the laundry room is down the hall.”

It wasn’t much of a tour, but the apartment was small. Surely if Quinn needed anything, he would figure it out—and you wanted nothing more than to retreat and hide away from the awkward situation your brother had forced you into. Maybe it made you seem harsh—or maybe it didn’t, because Quinn met your words with a soft smile and a quiet thanks before he settled in on the sofa, making himself at home. 

“If you need anything,” you started softly, your words becoming heavy with a sigh, “just knock.”

Slowly, you slipped away into the sanctuary of your bedroom, your lips moving in a whisper of a prayer as you began to put your laundry into its place. “It’s only for a few days…”

Days turned into weeks. And as the world’s condition only seemed to worsen, necessity foiled your determination to keep Quinn at arm’s length. You could only take so much solitude in your room before the silence became unbearable. While you had movies on your laptop and video chats with your friends to keep you entertained, you needed real human contact to keep yourself from insanity. Slowly, you began to share meals together, and small talk that slowly grew beyond hockey and the relationship you had with your brothers Chris and Brandon. And to your surprise, he wasn’t the worst house guest. Quinn was self-sufficient, considerate, and–while you would never admit it to Chris–the only person keeping you from losing your mind. 

“Do you maybe want to watch a movie together, or something?” you asked him one night after dinner, your tone as casual as you could muster. 

Quinn’s attention snapped to you, shifting from his phone that lit up the surprise that overtook his features. “Yeah, sure. I can set it up. Anything you want to watch?”

You shrugged as you tucked the last of the clean dishes away. “Just put on whatever. I’ll pop some popcorn.”

Settling on the couch minutes later, you place the bowl of popcorn in the space between you. As the movie played, the distance between you and Quinn seemed to shrink with each handful. You felt the warmth of his body radiating from him, and the softness of his hands as they collided with yours on the hunt for just another handful of popcorn. It was a subtle, but unignorable touch that made your pulse quicken. 

Biting down on your lower lip, you brought your hands back to rest on your lap, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. Quinn was focused on the movie, his sharp jawline tense as he enjoyed the last handful of popcorn. His eyes didn’t hold the heavy sadness they had when he had arrived at your apartment weeks ago, but seemed to have a hint of a smile in them as he laughed at one of the jokes as it played out on screen. 

You smiled softly to yourself. 

You liked his laugh, and maybe it was just the weeks of isolation consuming you, but… he wasn’t bad company at all. 

“What?” Quinn’s question sent a nervous jolt through you. He had caught you looking. 

“Nothing,” you said quickly, trying to play it cool. 

The couch shifted as Quinn turned his body away from the movie, giving his attention to you as he relaxed back against the arm of the couch. “Tell me.”

For a moment, you thought about ignoring him. That the two of you could ignore what had just happened and just get lost in the movie until the crack in your hardened facade was forgotten. But his stare left you giddy, and there was no hiding the smile that began to blossom over your features. 

“You’re not a bad guy to have around, Hughes,” you finally admitted, “and I’m glad you’re here.”

A smile, genuine smile spread across his face as he reached up to push his thick brunette hair from his eyes, “your brother thought it would be best for you–”

Your brows furrowed, your question leaving your lips in a firm question before he could continue, “I’m sorry, what?” “He didn’t want you to be alone during all of this,” Quinn explained, his voice soft and sheepish, as if he knew he shouldn’t have been telling you anything. 

You leaned back against the opposite arm of the couch, your legs coming up to spread across the cushions and dragging along his leg slowly, accidentally, until you were comfortable there. “That lying bastard,” you laughed in disbelief, “he told me you being here was for your sake!”

Quinn’s laughter joined yours, warm and contagious as it created a symphony with yours. “We’ll have to give him hell for it later… but it hasn’t been all that bad, has it?”

You shook your head slowly, a silent admission that the weeks you had spent together in forced proximity weren’t all that bad. Standing up, you moved to the fridge, finding two tall beer bottles in the back. You carried one in each hand back to the couch, offering one to him as you stood just behind him, your body leaning against the back of the couch. 

“I can think of maybe two people I’d rather be stuck here with,” you joked lightly. 

“Ouch,” Quinn teased as he twisted off the cap and took a long, satisfying sip. 

“Don’t lie,” you told him. “I know you’d rather be at home with your brothers.”

“My brothers aren’t as easy on the eyes as you are,” Quinn said quickly, without hesitation. But then his face flooded with color, and his eyes went wide. Just as quickly as his words had been said, Quinn had realized they had not just been the thoughts reserved for his head. “Let’s pretend I didn’t just say that, okay?”

You raised your brow, challenging him with a smile as you asked, “What would be the fun in that?” 

Quinn’s smile grew. 

Your brother had thrown you both into this situation. You, his sister, cooped up with him, the team’s rookie defenceman, during a global pandemic that left you both isolated and alone. What Chris had expected to happen? You didn’t know. But it was only a matter of time before the lines you had created became blurred. 

After a long, satisfying sip of beer to boost your confidence, you leaned forward and placed it down on the coffee table. Licking your lips slowly, you hesitated, your mind screaming no, but your body telling you yes, as you climbed into Quinn’s lap slowly. You seated yourself there, his lap between your thighs as you straddled him. His eyes shot wide, a quiet cough choking him as he forced back a sip of beer and silently handed the cold bottle to you. 

Leaning back carefully, you place it down next to yours, Quinn’s hands reaching out to grip carefully at your thighs to keep you from falling back. He anchored you there, in his lap, as you settled back into place carefully, your body arching further into his, stealing more and more of his space until you were a breath away from his lips. A small smile blossomed over your lips slowly, your body consumed with the giddiness of what you were about to do. Your brother would kill you for this, or Quinn, but you didn’t care. It made it all the more exciting to lean in and kiss him. 

There was a moment of hesitancy in the careful kiss of Quinn’s lips as they welcomed yours. His kiss was slow, and curious as your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to rest on his shoulders. Your touch was a feather light fleeting touch that quickly found its way into the thick wisps of his hair as his kiss deepened with desperation. 

He kissed you like you were a glass of water, and he hadn’t had a sip in weeks. His tongue stroked your lips slowly before parting them, and you could taste the beer on his tongue as you welcomed it into your mouth. The sweet contact unleashed a hum that caused through Quinn’s body in a subtle vibration that could feel between your thighs. And suddenly, your entire body was weak, like gelatin, and craving more than just the kiss of his lips. 

“Quinn,” you whined against his lips, your hips moving in slow rotations over his lap, grinding your core against his cock that you hoped to coax into an erection. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, breaking the kiss for the first time as he threw his head back. Quinn’s touch left where he held you firmly at the back of your thighs, dragging upwards until they settled on your hips and encouraged your every movement. 

You watched as his face melted into a soft expression that you couldn’t quite place, his mouth agape and his eyes shut as he focused on the very feeling of you. And between your legs, you could feel the stiffness of his cock, hard and ready. Reaching down, your fingers fumbled to work him free of his pants, but the quick lurch of his one hand captured both of yours in his hold. 

You looked up at him, your eyes wide in shock as he guided your hands to the waistband of your pants carefully. 

“Take those off,” he told you, his words firm and far from a suggestion, “and go to your room.”

Holy fuck. You had never been someone who liked to be told what to do, but in that moment, Quinn could have told you to do anything and you would have done it. 

Standing slowly, you stood between his knees as she remained seated on the couch. Your eyes fixated on his features, worried that if you had let them wander down out of curiosity, you might moan. As you held your breath, your hands pushed down at the waist of your pants, you pushed them down—and your panties went with them. 

They remained in a heap on the floor, your toes tripping over them slightly as you began the agonizing walk to the bedroom. With every stride you could feel your own wetness dripping down the inside of your thighs, your core begging to be filled. And as you got to your bedroom, you froze, your legs pressed firm together as you waited. His footsteps didn’t fill the silence. Quinn wasn’t following you. 

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, your flesh suddenly red hut and sent a shimmer with a sheen of sweat. Quinn was still in the living room, his thoughts entirely his own as you waited, near panicked, for him to join you. 

Standing with your back to the door, your eyes shut as you took deep breaths in an attempt to remain calm. Maybe you had been too forward. He wasn’t interested—or maybe he wasn’t as reckless as you and wasn’t ready to throw away a good relationship with his teammate by fucking his teammate’s sister. 

“Fuck,” you cursed to yourself, ready to accept the mistake you had just made. 

Reaching for your blanket, you had intended to wrap it around your waist and retreat back into the living room with an apology, but when you turned around, Quinn was standing in your doorway. 

His steps were slow as he entered your bedroom for the first time since he had arrived two weeks prior. Quinn wasted no time getting familiar with his surroundings. He only had eyes for you as he met you where you stood frozen at the foot of your bed. Quinn’s arms wrapped around you in a careful bear-hug, drawing your body flush with his as his lips found yours in a kiss that reassured you that your advances had been welcome. 

You moaned against his lips as he lay you out on your bed with an effortless strength and splayed your legs open wide. Quinn could have settled himself in between them, but instead, he lay down at your side, your one leg propped up against him. He stroked at the delicate flesh of your inner thigh slowly as he kissed you. His touch moved up only an inch at a time, teasing you as he encroached on the apex of your thighs. He left your body shuddering with anticipation, his hand hovering over your eagerness but void of his touch when you knew he was so close to where you wanted him. 

“Please don’t make me beg,” you muttered against his lips. 

It had been weeks since you had anyone touch you, and when he had become your unexpected house guest, he was the last person you thought you would welcome into your bed. But now that you had him there, you wanted all of him, or as much of himself as he was willing to give you. 

First, you felt him smile against your lips, a hum of a laugh coursing through him, and then you felt his fingers on your clit. 

Your teeth grit in a satisfied hiss, your hips raising to meet his touch with an eagerness that was out of your control. Your heels dug down into the bed, your hips rolling into every careful circular stroke he made before his fingers dipped down, feeling the slick of your arousal and plunged into your core. 

“Quinn,” you gasped out, your hips dropping into a downward angle to welcome his fingers into your core. 

His middle and ring finger worked you in quick thrusts that left your mind dizzy and your movements purely instinctive as you anchored yourself to your bed with the grasp of your hand and bucked your hips up into his hand just to feel more of him. Quickly, you were so embarrassingly close to coming, and it left you reeling as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. 

“Are you going to-” you started, your body trying to roll on top of him in a swift movement that was interrupted by the careful push of his free hand against your hip. Quinn pushed you back to laying flat against the bed, one hand still buried in your core while the other held you down at the hips. The angle he worked you into, paired with how his fingers curled at just the right spot as they worked you, sent a fire burning through you. Your arousal coated his fingers, dripping down over his palm and making a mess of the bed as pleasure pulsed through you. It left you moaning, your head thrown back against the mattress as your core clenched around his fingers, wishing that it was his cock. 

As you lay in your bed, panting, you tried to remember the last time you let someone do something as adolescent as getting you off with nothing more than their fingers. But your mind was fogged by the bliss of your climax—but one thought hung low over you, preventing you from enjoying it fully. Quinn hadn’t gotten to enjoy releasing himself. 

Rolling over slowly, you tried to reach out for his waistband again, but he caught your hand. Your gaze met his, his eyes soft, and his smile small as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb slowly. 

“You didn’t get to-” You started, but he cut you off. 

“I know,” he said, his hand bringing your hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss on your palm—a small attempt at a distraction from how his cock still seemed to throb in the confines of his pants. “But let’s sleep on it, okay? Make sure you don’t regret this in the morning. I mean, your brother is my teammate, after all.”

“Oh,” you sounded softly, trying to hide your disappointment behind understanding, “yeah, okay. But ah- can you stay in here with me tonight?” You requested slowly, “I don’t want to sleep alone anymore-”

Quinn nodded slowly, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead. “I can do that, anything to get away from sleeping on that damn couch–”

The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains, casting long shadows across the table as you sat across from Quinn. It was the first morning since he had arrived that it felt like you weren’t walking on eggshells. It was a quiet, comfortable affair, yet there was a new tension in the air. One that you couldn’t quite place. Maybe he was regretting what had happened. That thought alone left your stomach in your throat as you poked at your breakfast, trying to find the will to take the first bite. 

Then, breaking the silence, Quinn found the courage to speak. “I’m allowed to fly back to Michigan, to be with my family until the season resumes.”

Your grasp on your fork tightened, his words hitting you like a slap to the face. You could feel your face wanting to fall into a scowl, but you did your best to mask it by taking a long sip of your drink as you sought composure. 

So that was it. After weeks of shared solitaire, an awkward beginning that turned into something that felt natural, he was leaving? Just like that?

“That’s great,” you said, forcing a smile. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he answered. 

You could feel his gaze on your face, searching for the reaction you refused to give him. Instead, you let your features soften, a practiced smile on your features as you set your fork down on the table with deliberate care. “I won’t keep you then. You’ve got some packing to do. The last thing you need is a distraction.”

Pushing your chair back, you abandoned your place on the table, your breakfast unfinished, and moved towards your bedroom. Your footsteps were quick, your eyes fixated on your bedroom door, and they did not deviate from it. Not even as Quinn’s voice followed you, your name leaving his lips in a gentle plea, “Please wait, can we talk about this?”

His words didn’t stop you. You didn’t turn around; you didn’t look back at him. Instead, your hand just tightened into your fist at your side as you reached the threshold of your doorway. There, you lingered for a moment, your flexed hand reaching up to rest against the door frame. You could feel Quinn’s eyes on your back, and your lips parted as if to say something–a sharp retort, a clever quip, anything to fill the silence–but no words came. 

Only a quivering breath left your lips as you stepped into your room and closed the door firmly behind you. 

The quietness and sudden isolation of your room were suddenly suffocating. Just mere hours ago you had Quinn had woken up there, together, and now he was going to just leave? It felt like some sick and twisted joke that left you trembling as you sank to your knees. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had known before breakfast, and that last night only happened because Quinn knew he was going to leave. The what ifs were all-consuming in your mind, raging louder and louder even if you tried to combat them with: Quinn, isn’t that kind of guy. He’s good—at least that’s what you wanted to believe. But the thought wasn’t enough. Your tears came anyway, hot and unrelenting as you silently sobbed. The hot tears spilled down your cheeks as you pressed your psalm into your face to muffle any sound that threatened to escape your lips. 

Quinn was leaving. After everything. After the awkward days of learning to live together, and the late-night talks, the laughter, and the moments that felt too intimate to be casual. You’d finally allowed yourself to settle into the strange shared existence the two of you had been thrust into. For two weeks, it was just the two of you alone in the little world that was your apartment. When Chris had dropped him off weeks ago, you knew the arrangement was temporary. At one point you had been counting down the hours until he could leave… but now, as you struggled through shallow breaths in search of a glimmer of composure, you had to accept he was leaving you behind, and it felt achingly permanent. 

In just twenty-four hours, Quinn would be gone.

You spent each one of them alone in your room, your mind racing with so many things you wanted to say, but never brought yourself to. As the next time you left your room, the apartment was unbearably quiet, void of Quinn’s presence. And for the first time in weeks, you were truly alone. 

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hi! I’m not sure if you’ve written something like this already, but how do you think Aegon would be like if (for some reason) the reader was giving him the cold shoulder?

Thank you :))

We all just absolutely adore clingy kinda pathetic Aegon huh? I love our little corner of the internet 😂 I decided to make the giving of the cold shoulder to Aegon more accidental than because of something he's done wrong cause we've spoken quite a bit about how badly Aegon would take being ignored as an actual punishment so I just thinking doing it this way makes more sense. I hope that's alright anon!!

So there's nothing extremely graphic in this answer but it's definitely focused on D/S dynamics and implies sexual content so I'll hide it under a tag just to be safe cause this is definitely not 100% SFW, enjoy!

I've said this before and I'll say it again: once Aegon starts to properly trust and rely on you then he becomes SO needy and emotional and very very clingy. Cause he just... you love him? And he's yours? So that means he's allowed to always look for you and try to please you and pout all day if he can't find you?

Your approval is really the only thing he needs. His advisers and his siblings and his mother can all look down upon him and be disappointed in him and he won't even notice as long as you're with him. Because with you he actually CAN please you? You show him what to do and you care for him and you set him up for success never for failure, unlike his mother and his advisors.

Anyway, point is that Aegon cares very deeply about what you think of him. Otto can call him a disgrace and he won't even flinch, but if you just slightly frown in his direction then he's immediately panicked and asking what he's done wrong. Cause you can't be upset him, not ever!!!!!

You know this of course, and you enjoy indulging him. You make sure to stay close, take his hand when walking, listen to him, cheer him up, etc.

But of course no matter how much you love spending time with him you also have your own duties to the realm. In particular you end up being the person who has to do a lot of the more subtle attempts at ensuring the loyalty of the other powerful houses. Aegon has no mind for politics or subtly and while hearing that used to upset him, it no longer does because he has a very pretty wife who can do that sort of thing for him and his only role is to wear a crown and look pretty and that he can absolutely manage.

This incident takes place during one of those evenings where a powerful house is dining with you all. There are whispers of a potential marriage between the two families to ensure allegiances and of course then also whispers about what land and titles this new union would be entitled to and what their heirs would do. This is the exact kind of thing that Aegon has no patience for, and so his preferred method of doing these things is to let you do it while he gets to watch you.

At one point during the dinner the matriarch of the other house motions for you to come outside with her before dessert is served and of course you agree. You get up from your chair and escort the matriarch outside to hear what she has to say.

What you don't notice though, is that as you get up Aegon turned to you and tried to reach for you. He didn't catch what the silent gestures of the other lady meant and when you got up he was confused. You didn't notice though and went straight out.Aegon doesn't speak to anyone while you're outside, instead just constantly looks around the room to try and figure out where you are or when you'll be back.

When you return with the lady you're smiling and allow her to announce her official proposal of the marriage between the two houses. Aegon and all relevant parties agree of course and so the rest of the dinner becomes much more lighthearted as the upcoming union is discussed.

Throughout the conversation you keep your eyes on the two who will be married, trying to make sure neither of them are reacting badly to this. Of course they both knew ahead of time that this was a possibility but knowing it's a possibility and being informed of its confirmation are two very different things.

Because you're focused on them, you don't notice Aegon trying to get your attention. And later when Aegon pours more wine into your glass you're turned slightly the other way to listen to someone and so you don't even notice it. That's what really makes him think he must have upset you because you ALWAYS thank him for little acts of service like that. He's quiet for the rest of the dinner and with each passing moment that you're speaking to another he becomes more and more convinced he's somehow been bad. Maybe he was supposed to offer to go outside with you? Maybe he should have reacted differently to the proposal? He really thought he was doing all you'd want him to and yet clearly he must have gotten that wrong cause you didnt even hold his hand!!!!

When dinner is over some of the guests seem to be heading to the sitting area for more wine to continue the evening. Aegon wishes them all well and says he's tired so he'll be going to bed and then leaves.

That's when you realise you had been unconsciously ignoring him and he must have thought he was bad. Normally Aegon would never even consider leaving without you, and he also wouldn't just announce he was leaving unless he had asked you first. Him immediately going tells you all you need to know.

You take your leave then as well, quickly running up to your shared chambers. You get there just as Aegon is about to close the door, and when you enter Aegon turns his back to you. You can tell from how his arms are folded around himself that he's probably crying or trying not to cry.

You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his cheek. You rest your head on his shoulder, kissing his ear before asking him what's wrong. He simply just says he's sorry for whatever he did.

You turn him and kiss him on both cheeks, his nose and his forehead before finally kissing him on the lips and promising him that he was perfect and you were just too distracted with everyone else.

Aegon is so relieved he just immediately pulls you into bed and refuses to leave until sunrise.

[inthelibrarybtw]

get to know college!student!reader

college!student!reader who is naturally smart, and loves studying, it can get a little too much because she hates to get less than a B in her classes, in high school she got a C once and almost cried her eyes out (no one knows about this) she’s not a party girl, she’s more into staying in watching a movie with her friends, baking and if she’s alone reading a book. baking usually is like a coping mechanism that shows up around finals and midterms because it becomes stress baking, but sometimes she does it for fun or to have a nice little detail for someone she cares about. 

college!student!reader who is very kind, just don’t provoke her,  hates confrontations but always sets her limits. her anxiety and overthinking can get the best of her, her friends know that and always reassure her when she’s having a bad day which is not that often but when it hits it hits hard. she has a hard time asking for help unless it’s her best friend from high school who sadly doesn’t go to the same college as her or kelce since they know each other since they were practically kids. she tends to cry when stressed, angry or when she’s exhausted and drained. 

college!student!reader who loves taylor swift and everything that anyone could classify as basic but she loves it, picking flowers, reading romance books, watching 90s and early 2000s shows. passionate for art and music, loves to go on walks while listening to music, you can catch her going to museums on her own, usually very independent but loves to spend time with her friends and people she loves, quality time is her number one love language and physical touch is the second even if she doesn’t like to admit it. who barely understands sports but when her friends invite her to football or basketball games, she goes to spend time with them and because they always go out for food afterward. 

college!student!reader who is an only child which has allowed her to have a good relationship with her parents, her high school best friend is like her sister, she loves her friends and respects them a lot. she’s really hard on herself, even if she knows she has people who will be there for her no matter what sometimes she shuts down and doesn’t speak to anyone about what she’s going through, shields herself with reading, and externalizes her emotions on playlists or listening one song on a loop as longs as it fits to how she’s feeling.

college!student!reader who loves to take pictures of everything and share them on her social media, it’s like her digital diary. her major suits her for that reason, digital marketing with a minor in graphic design, to in her words “make everything look pretty”. who is bilingual, her mom taught her Spanish since she was little and she uses it a lot when talking to her family and some friends. who is also very sarcastic, always has a smile on her face and most of the time she won’t verbally say stuff but her face sure will let you know everything before she even thinks about saying it.

authors note: thank you so much for all the love this fic is already receiving!! college!student!reader (aka Avery) is very dear to my heart, she has a lot of bits and pieces that I took from my life and put them into who she is. I hope you guys like her and get more excited to read about her.

taglist: @zyafics @maybankslover @niaunoffical @marleymarleymarleymarley @rafesbabygirlx @akobx if you want to be added send an ask or comment! :)

REBLOGS, COMMENTS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED

INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.*

[hotvintagepoll]

Donald O'Connor (Singin' in the Rain, Francis, Call Me Madam)— LOOK AT HIM. Those giant blue peepers. Those tappy tappy little feet that don't quit. The ears that stick out like little wings, ready to lift him up to goofy heaven. The way his face contorts into the strangest yet most endearing expressions. His ability to sing and dance alongside the hunk that is Gene Kelly and yet pull all attention away with his big-eyed buffoonery. The way his energy is unmatched in songs like "Make 'em laugh" - bouncing off the walls and tumbling through the air straight into my cold cold heart. Who else but a true scrungly lil guy would sit upon the witness stand and defend a talking mule with all the love and affection in the world - staring out into the court room with his bright wide eyes and eternally mouse-like expression, openly admitting that the mule is his best friend?!??! I see him and I want to pull him from the screen into my hand and just squiiiiiiiiiiiiish with all my might. I want to pinch his cheeks and have him bat those eyes at me. He just makes me go "eeehehehehehe" every time I see him and his silly little self. He is pure chaotic, ridiculous, scrungly perfection!

Mantan Moreland (Mr. Washington Goes to Town, Cabin in the Sky)—i love mantan moreland SO. MUCH. and he is the pERFECT scrungly little guy!!!!! like a lot of black actors at the time he was always getting sidelined into small parts, but unusually he also managed to become a star in his own right and was almost one of the three stooges! he was a groundbreaking comedic actor known for his distinctive stare (very good for the horror movies he did), and he always is way more fun to watch on screen than anyone else. he had a famous double-act where he perfected this technique of non-conversations (where both people keep finishing each other's sentences before any actual information is conveyed). a lot of his movies are free on youtube and i really enjoy seeing him do his silly little guy thing in all of them!!! anyways yeah please include mantan he deserves some recognition as peak scrungle

This is round 3 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Donald O'Connor:

My silliest little guy. My funnyman. My horsie. I have watched many a bad movie for this man. The scrungliest fact I know about him is that he was supposed to star as Danny Kaye's role in the iconic White Christmas (1954), as he had known Bing Crosby since he was a child, but couldn't because he caught a mule disease while working on those Francis the Talking Mule films Universal endlessly made him do. I wouldn't exactly recommend those movies, but Don's character getting psychologically tormented by a sardonic mule does make for quite a good movie night, if you know what you're getting into. Are You With It? is another one I don't exactly recommend, but it does open with Donald as a math genius actuary who is about to kill himself over a displaced decimal point before getting taken in by a traveling carny instead. His more well-known and beloved roles have plenty of scrungliness too, in my opinion. This man slapsticked so hard he wound up bedridden for his physical exertion! Rather than submitting Make 'Em Laugh, which the electorate has likely already seen (I hope), I'm submitting an underrated dance number of his, where he explains maths through tap dance. That movie is Not good, but god do I love him in that role.

I think it's arguably very scrungly to seemingly be a real life cartoon character made out of rubber, as proven by how slapsticky the list of scrunglies is so far. In which case, Donald O'Connor? He scrungles supremely. He even played Buster Keaton in a movie (that apparently can't be recommended, but still).

Mantan Moreland:

here's his double act in action!! [editor's note: Benson Fong cameo too!]

He just had a scrungly look about him and he played big with his roles so any of it became especially scrungly. Plus he was very funny in the way only scrungly people can be.

the FUNNEST GUY TO WATCH ON SCREEN. he was an immensely gifted physical comedian, able to convey loads with his eyes, and while some of his parts are so sad and cringeworthy, I feel like he always brought a humanity and humor that lifted them beyond cheap stereotype.

[iamhereforfunnzies]

happy holidays!

I really liked your gyaru reader story!

out of curiosity, how did they feel when Bruce started to try on stop them from dressing gyaru?

on one hand Bruce is paying attention to them now and spending time with them, but on the other hand they clearly enjoy dressing in that style , I wouldn’t be surprised if reader felt a bit hurt that Bruce wanted to change them.

and from how you wrote Bruce there it feels like he doesn’t have an issue with the style itself, but maybe he associates it with gyaru reader both mimicking him and attempting to gain his attention (which he didn’t really give) so he doesn’t like it because him of his guilt?

Spot on! Bruce doesn't care much of the style itself if he see's any other people dressing like a gyaru he wouldn't really care just be reminded of the reader. Batman is the greatest detective but Bruce Wayne is a man.

As a parent you see the worst and best part of you in your child , Bruce hoped he didn't affect you in any way like how he did with the others but he did just not in a way he expected. He was caught off guard how you imitate his persona too well.

He did crazy shit as Brucie Wayne that a child like you should never do. (Ex. In Gotham Knights , He was dancing practically naked in penguins club) He did that to make sure no one will connect the dots of him being batman. It also made him realize you know nothing of him and nothing of you. You and him are no better than strangers walking by.

So he did what thinks what's best to help you. He dialed down with the Playboy persona , the fucking , the drinking , and flirting. He spent more time with you giving comments on your style every time he see's you do makeup and picking clothes. He didn't outright tell you to stop , no he was subtle making you second guess everything.

"Are you sure you wanna wear that?"

"Maybe try for a natural look , kids your age like that"

"Your too much"

It drives the reader insane , cause no matter what they still care. Too much, those two words hurt them the most. They always wanted more for themself , so being called too much triggers them. It's making them second guess everything from all their nails , wigs , big eyelashes, loud clothes and etc. Slowly they start becoming "cleaner". Which to Bruce happily does slowly getting rid of clothes for him to buy more of clothes he seemed appropriate. Hey you , him and Damian can match! Don't worry you'll still be the attention just in a better way.

[supernova41st]

Baked with love 𖦹

Sonic/Shadow x Baker!Reader

(Separate)

A/n: Okay so y’all really like my Sonic stuff 😭?? I was a bit worried about it flopping but it did so well, tysm!! I’ll probably be doing a request fic after this and some random quote posts between then, hope you like this <33

Warnings: None

Divider creds: @thecutestgrotto

Sonic

𖦹 Sonic isn’t really a sweets guy (surprisingly) but nonetheless he does enjoy your stuff. He’d eat that shit in one bite, especially the expensive stuff!

“Wha—Sonic you gotta savor it! That was like 30$ worth of matcha that you just ate there”

“Whoops, sorry babe..it just looked so good!”

𖦹 If he gets a sugar rush then it’s over. He immediately goes running laps around your house to release all the energy—hope you don’t mind your place getting a little messy (and losing power for a few minutes)

𖦹 Sonic definitely woudnt be the first person you’d choose to bake with. He’ll try rushing through the recipe and end up with a dense cake, watery frosting, and inconsistent sprinkles all around the cake.

“Alright, so first we need t-“

“Done. Ta-da!!! Doesn’t it look great, (Y/N)?”

“..mhm 🙂”

𖦹 His favorite pastry of yours? Cake pops. Quick and easy to eat + it has just the right amount of sugar before he goes sprinting across the country

Shadow

𖦹 The emo guy? No, he didn’t really care for it at first.

𖦹 Every time you offered him one of your sweets he’d always refuse to eat it, he deemed it “unnecessary” since it mostly never provided healthy nutrients, and shadow never really needed to eat as a whole.

𖦹 Eh, why not. He’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious on the obsession that humans had with sweets, so he obliged.

“Really? You wanna try something??”

“Don’t overreact, I’m just curious as to why you’re so eager about me trying sweets.”

“Uhh—alright! I’ll have something going that you’ll like, trust!!”

𖦹 You practically went scavenger hunting, trying to find the espresso powder you had lying in your pantry for nearly a year. As soon as you presented the small espresso cake to him you were quite nervous..

‘Oh god, did I put too much frosting?? He’s always so blunt about not liking something so imagine how he’ll respond if he won’t like it! Then again, he is my boyfriend so it’s not like he’ll be too cold on m—‘

“more.”

“Wha?”

𖦹 As soon as you looked down the cake was now GONE. Oof, and here you thought he wouldn’t like it. Now he’s become obsessed with your work

𖦹 His favorite pastry of yours? Macaroons. He has an old man in him, and that old man just wants to sit on a rocking chair while having tea with macaroons