#literally not the same story that it started as | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

velaenam · 2 days ago

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𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲

◦ ♡

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 – non!mc. you are a successful aerospace engineer, a girlboss, with terrible luck in romance. let's hope this strangers website brings you out of that rut! 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 / 𝐭𝐰 – NSFW topics! swearing/foul language, strangers, slow burn, talks of depression/mental health, guilt tripping, manipulation, tba notes – not proofread. remember to read tags if you do have triggers. i try my best to update tags regarding each chapters, xo. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 5 of many ! previous chapter | next chapter

before we start. i started compiling a playlist for this story if you were interested lol. main song at the top, along with a bunch of music i listened to while writing this aka inspo LOL . music will be added as i go through the story. also THE TEXT MSGS ARE MAAAD RAUNCY BAYBEE LIKE GOOD GAWD.. U N CALEB ARE DOGGS... ;)

caleb gets up and leaves his phone on the couch. he grabs all the dishes and puts them in the sink. as he clangs around the kitchen she stirs from her sleep. she mumbles incoherencies as she fishes for her phone, her fingers gripping his. she turns it on and blinks at it.

“whispr notification” she mumbles out, as her eyes squint at it, still needing to readjust her peripherals. she types calebs password with ease and her eyes glue to the notification. she hovers just before clicking it and waiting for the message to arrive.

space baby: you’re okay. not mad, just sad. id like to meet you. ive been thinking about you more than i thought and i think id like to see you if youre okay with that

her stomach drops and she stares at the messages, reading up as much as she possibly can before her lip quivers into some sickened jealousy. who is space baby and why is he talking to her? his wink emoji is reserved for me. why is he flirting with this woman he doesn’t know? a fire in her eyes ignite as she pathetically scrolls through the conversation, each talk lodging a jealous knife into her chest.

as she goes through, shes hit with a chestful of pain. her lips tremble, is it from jealousy? from the fact her best friend couldn’t text her how he was feeling, and hes reaching out to someone else? as her feelings arise to the surface, caleb finishes cleaning the dishes, and rubs his neck, and walking over to the other side of the hallway. he rummages through the hallway closet, grabbing a towel, “hey pipsqueak, can i shower?” he calls out to her, and she gives him a loud ‘mhm’ before returning to sneak through the phone texts.

space baby: so we can ask anything we want since we’re two randoms right? captain apple: yep! no judgement here. space baby: favorite sex position? captain apple: hmm, i think it’d be cowgirl. i like when the woman is in control, missionary too– honestly as long as i can watch your face kind of thing. you get what i mean? space baby: no yeah i literally have the same mindset, i have a thing with power. dunno why. captain apple: ive got a thing for power too.

she scowls, as this was unbearable to her. seeing this person speaking to caleb in such a dirty way, made her skin stand, her blood boil, her body temperature drop.

captain apple: this is really weird, but do you use toys on yourself? i’m a guy obviously, but what do you think of men using toys? space baby: i have toys, but i don’t use them as frequent as i want. and yeah honestly, i don’t care if men use toys. kinda cute actually. captain apple: cute? haha , space baby your vocab is limited. space baby: hey! it is! wtf lol

she wanted to vomit. caleb was so lewd-- so shameless, and with a random woman no less. this fucked with her as she continues, ignoring her senses

captain apple: do you believe in love? space baby: no i don’t. do you? captain apple: i do. maybe i can change your mind ;) space baby: you are…. so…so corny.. oh my god captain apple: but you didn’t say no! space baby: fuck ok yes lol. can’t say no to you, you charming man. captain apple: well, maybe one day i can see your flushed face. space baby: you can maybe see more than that. captain apple: look who’s corny now! space baby: was it really? captain apple: no… that was.. space baby: ;)

that was enough for her. she throws the phone, and it shuffles onto the edge of the couch. she sits up from her seat, her chin on her knees. she contemplated, biting her bottom lip in debate as she waited for caleb to return.

as he comes out of the shower he has a towel around his waist, and another towel in his hand rubbing his hair dry. he walks towards the living room where his friend sits balled up, and he goes to touch her head. she scrambles, pulling herself away from caleb.

“what’s the matter pips-” – “who is she?” her voice was low, almost trembling– not with fear, but laced with malice, “why are you texting her so much?” she reaches for his phone, dangling it in the air in front of him. caleb’s mouth goes dry, his face flash with guilt that he couldn’t hide fast enough, “it’s not– she’s just some random stranger that i met from the app. that’s all pips.” he attempts, but she shakes her head, “no- not from the conversations that i saw!” caleb stops in his track, a serious invasion of privacy. he tenses, but his demeanor doesn’t change, “what did you see, pipsqueak?”

she shakes her head again, turning his phone on, “i saw enough! caleb… i thought we were closer… i thought i’d be your #1.. it seems like someone else has your heart now….” she turns away her hurt evident from the things she had read. caleb was dumbfounded, lost, confused. he had never seen her act so possessive of him, and he couldn’t understand why. whether she did this on purpose made his heart beat harder than he thought it could.

“i’m sorry pipsqueak i-” caleb goes to defend himself, only to be cut off again by his pipsqueak, “you said we tell each other everything, you said we didn’t keep things!” – “i wasn’t hiding it..” he really wasn't. the man hadn't seen her in months.

“then why does this feel like betrayal?!” her eyes were glossed, but not from the tears. there was something wild behind them– hurt laced with protectiveness? “unadd her. block her, right now, caleb.” she huffs, holding the phone like it burned her, becking him to take it and oblige her.

caleb looks at her stunned, heart pounding for reasons he wasn’t ready to say, “you don’t get to decide that.” he states dryly, eyes staring to darken as his hands move up to snatch the phone from her hands, “i do when it’s you.” she murmurs, looking off to the side, “because you’re mine , you’ve always been mine.”

the silence that followed was suffocating— filled with everything he wanted to say and everything he could bring himself to. and somewhere between the space of loyalty and something messier— or rawer, caleb realizes they may be standing on the edge of a line they may not be able to recross one done so.

he looks down at her piercing gaze, then back to his phone. he turns it on, putting his password in, and clicking whispr. he looks at it and begins to type, “caleb.” she pleads. his face snap to hers, and he could see how hurt she looked. at that moment he was faced with a choice.

he hits backspace and clicks on the three dots above space baby’s name,

“unmatch and unadd?” click.

he slides next to her, and wraps his arm around her as she sobbed quietly. a mix of regret and pain in his eyes. pain that he felt that he had to make such a consequential choice. regret of the unknown. perhaps he lied to himself more than he wanted to? now he will never know who she was, and that was going to sting for a little bit

“im sorry… i didn’t know that was hurtful to you.. ill never do that again.” he brushes her hair as he leans his body towards her.

days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months. your maverick stunt was a side quest and your main one was getting neglected big time. skyhavens hangar hums quietly— save for the random bursts of the jet engines hydraulics or your footsteps. you move through active schematics, and glowing consoles, your sleeves rolled up, and your hair tied back. it’s been hours—- no days, since you’ve left the hangar. a cold cup of coffee and an inhaler of some sorts occupy your desk.

you adjust the thrust vectoring array on the new farspace fleet prototype. sleek, nimble, build for tunnel speed reactivity. your fingers move quickly and clinically, for distraction purposes.

there was a small hum from the console as a tech officer patches in while you were mid work, “you’re still here?” you respond without looking up, “this is where i work, and live apparently.”

there was only a brief silence before the tech talks again, “you’ve run the thermal dispersal model 6 times now.” and without missing a beat, as if you were waiting for him to say something, “well it’s still not good enough. the tunnels don’t forgive errors.”

once again you’re met by silence, assuming the tech unlinked the call, you sigh, before looking up at the model that returned your reflection, “at least you don’t vanish without a word.”

caleb had a time after blocking space baby. he continued his regularly scheduled vacation to see her, and they spent more time texting. with her trying to text in the way space baby did, he felt appalled and quite honestly, icky. he didn’t have that weird connection that he did with her than he did with space baby, so with her trying to replace space baby it made him feel conflicted. on one hand it made him feel dejected, this kind of conversation is odd to have with someone he knew and no less, was attached to the hip. but on the other hand it makes him feel comfortable, and more domestic.

he hadn’t seen you lately either. he’d ask about you and he’d hear multiple things in passing

“probably busy with the new orders she got”

“she went to another country for work”

“they said she’s not in the building right now..”

“she’s off and no i won’t disclose her whereabouts” caleb’d even gone to majors himself

when you were the topic there were excuses, and he hates to admit but a part of him started to get even more sad. shifting three different attention into one person made life boring for him. you were suddenly so busy, and space baby no longer existed to him. he even tried to talk to whispr tech support about getting data and rematching and they’d give him the same answer.

he tried to find space baby again on whispr but by the end of the 2 weeks long process, he’s given up. space baby just didn’t exist in the system anymore and he had to come to terms with that. he relished it while it was fleeting. he enjoyed the life space baby gave the conversation, and sometimes took the reins. she didn’t do either. she was monotone, and would avert the conversation to her own accord. as much as he enjoyed getting that attention from her once more that he so much wanted weeks ago, he simply understood that life moves on, and part of moving one was meeting new people, or maybe it was to let things die down, and see where life took him.

you were okay for the most part. if you were lying to yourself of course. this whole situation made you feel even more iced out. your barrier got higher, and you worked and worked. you went out with your friends from time to time, but they definitely noticed the difference with you now. it was temporary though– you’d promise. however, you were just really bad with timing as usual. when you were going to take some time off the DAA called you into the office to have you start a highly classified program and you would work with multitudes of people from other departments. you’d be working with the DAA officially from here on out— or until you finished your project. so much for your planned vacation to another country.

you finally finished, everything was going according to plan. you just had to finish the panel with the officials before you could take a temporary break. they knew they were straining you dry for having a one woman army tackle this, but there was nobody capable but you.

the room was stark and high tech, built for strategy and scrutiny. the prototype 3d model— sleek and formidable, rotators above the center table, and around the prototype a half circle of farspace fleet officials, commanders, engineers, and senior pilots sit stone faced and attentive.

you stand in front of the projector, a tablet in hand, and your shoulders squared. as they finish their conversations they turn to you, eyes locking with yours. you give them a half smile as you start your presentation.

“good morning, I will be presenting the TG-X— the next generation tunnel rated aircraft designed for deep environment response“ and maneuverability, extended endurance in high-pressure zones, and rapid escape from collapse vectors.”

you gesture and the ships hologram peels apart, revealing it’s system in layers, engines, shielding, navigation grid, etc. you clear your throat as the men and women look into each layers meticulously, “the TG-X runs on a twin-core propulsion system with independent stabilizer logic. that allows real time response with deepspace turbulence– down to .5 second input delay- give or take.”

a fleet commander raises his fingers, his gruff voice ringing through the air, “twin-core setups overheat. you are risking a meltdown during boost.” your eyes dart to him, “not with our thermal regulators. each core is cooled by a fluid compression loop embedded in the outer hull struts– testing shows how heat dispersion exceeds prior models by 20-30 percent.” you flick your tablet, and the projection changes to a simulation. the TG-X navigating a collapsing tunnel scenario. field littered with debris, volatile currents, wanderers around. the ship dips, rolls, and escapes- cleanly.

the room is silent, the fleets people look amongst each other, clearly intrigued. the senior pilot leans in, her fingers trailing the wings, “and the wing design.. looks a little too light for heavy evasive thrusts, no?” you tilt your head, clicking on the wing, and it opens the list of things it was comprised of, “flexible carbon titanium weave. reinforced at pivot points. it’s light because it has to be. if you’re using brute force in the tunnels well… you’re already dead.”

that hangs in the air. a few of the officers glance at each other, before another one piped up, “you built this for survivability?” – “i build this so the people who fly it might actually come back.” it’s quiet once again. it settles like a weighted blanket. you stare off into the row of power, till you look back down on your tablet, the commander grunts, as if in a approving way, “we will authorize a full field evaluation. please prepare your men for the next proceeding.”

you nod curtly, and they slowly file out of the room, until it was just you and your creation. you don’t tremble. your hands don’t shake, even when they lower the lights and shut down the hologram. you stand, surrounded by silence and tech. no applause, and no words. your design held up to the most powerful military government in the world, and they listened. this was your power.

it was a cold evening, but you were even colder as you stood there, tight lipped, while your engineers yelled amongst each other. you tap your fingers on the table, as you look around the area of effect. whiteboard full of scribbles, schematics scattered everywhere, parts on the table, and the prototype sits pretty in the middle of everything. it was kinda relaxing, if hell relaxed you.

definitely beats watching reruns and being sad over a stupid captain apple.

your thoughts are pried from you as one of the engineers slam their tablet down, “we can’t just run a single coolant loop through the avionics bay! if that line fails we lose guidance control and telemetry! do you not understand how difficult that’s going to be to deal with?”

“we have a back up-”

“no we have a band aid. its redundant, and not to mention, wishful thinking!” in the corner like a wrestler another engineer raises his hand, “what if we triple the coolant lines. you wanna make it so dense back there no one can service it without disassembling the whole panel?” finally you chuckle against their bickering, “if someone says serviceability i’ll kill everyone in here. this is a spacecraft, not a family sedan.”

they all halt their bickering, as you continue, “you’re all right. avionics goes down– we lose everything. cant overload the architecture of the ‘craft. we need an active failover loop. independent routing, isolated power, isolated control logic.”

you see them slump their shoulders in relief as they slink back into their seats, before you continue again, you start to point your fingers as you spoke to them, “you two rework the trunk layout and confirm thermal thresholds. you– build me a sim with both loop failures and see how long we can survive. and i- will be on redundancy logic. we need that switchover to be instant. autonomous.” everybody grumbles, before nodding and dispersing for the night.

they leave and you sit down, your finger rubbing circles on your temple. you were tired out of your mind. you couldn’t sleep though, you had damn near 4 cups of coffee and you were wired out of your mind.

you grabbed your jacket as you closed the area down for the day. your heels click clack against the tarmac, and as you round the corner you spot a shadow a ways away, near a jet. your brows raise, as it was turning night, and no pilots that you knew of were supposed to be out doing night routines.

you walk towards the shadow. you walking towards the shadow with absolutely no experience with combat, or a gun, you think to yourself, if this was a bad guy you were done for. but at the same time you were a mean track star back in college, so maybe you could outrun this figure.

as you think of your possible early death you hear a donk, and followed by a “fuck!” and it snaps you out. it sounded like caleb. “pilot! what the hell are you doing out here this late?” you yell through the howling wind.

calebs body moves to the sound of your voice, and he drops his wrench. “oh shit– sorry. thought everybody was gone already.” your brows raise as he sits on the metal box, fiddling with the undercarriage. you sit down on the free metallic box and observe him. “i just got out of my meeting. you know there are workers for that right?” caleb chuckles as he moves out from the undercarriage, his smile accompanied with a grease line on his jaw. “its nice to be able to know how your companion works. i prefer to do things hands on.” he grabs the towel and rubs the grease off his face and arms, before tilting his head at you, “you know, i haven’t seen you in a while. how’ve you been?”

“i’ve been better. exhausted honestly.” you put your hand in your face, groaning, “but i can’t sleep. 4th cup of coffee, and i think i have meetings back to back tomorrow, so i have to plan for that.” caleb nods sitting across from you. he grabs his squeeze bottle, taking a quick drink before he looks at you again, “you’re good with her. your plane.” he gives you a sheepish grin, before nodding, “i try to be.”

“you’re not bad with people either.” you state, and his eyes linger on yours for a second longer, lips curving a bit. “i’ve got a good one in front of me right now. kind of hard to mess that up.” the words hang there, soft and honest. for a second your tired pacing mind stills. no simulations, no systems failing, no heat signatures or safety thresholds… just– him. caleb.

and it feels nice.

“do you want to take a nap with me?” your eyes widen, what does that mean? “huh?” you reply dumbfoundedly, and he chuckles, “i mean i woke up from a nap, so i won’t be going to bed anytime soon. if you wanted i could wake you up so you could make it to your meeting on time?”

you couldn’t help but feel warm from that statement. that was just– lovely. you’d be a fool to say– “no.” you mumbled softly, and caleb laughs awkwardly, “well, i figured i’d offer you.” you rise from the metallic box, and place your hand on his shoulder, “i appreciate your offer, caleb. but i think i’ll manage.” you go to ruffle his hair, and he grips your wrist gently. the two of you stare into each others eyes briefly before you let go so abruptly. you clear your throat, nodding at him, “good night caleb.”

“good night” he says quietly as he watched you walk off into the building.

a couple weeks go by, your run ins with caleb became more prevalent. you’d be walking around the corner and crash into him. you’d see him walk into the lounge with his friends and they’d take turns ogling you like a piece of meat. you were fine with it, carnal desire was human. but the moment catcalling started hands would be thrown. but they knew better than that. they’d definitely get court martialed for less.

he would try to get you involved in the stupid escapades the pilots and cadets were doing, only for it to fail miserably as you glare daggers and walked off, but he’d always catch that smile on your face as you rounded the corner. so to him it was worth the trouble.

you’d lock eyes with him as he got ready for flight, the hands on shoulders become more frequent, and your relationship with him gradually rises. the lingering stare became more of a thing when he’d pick up your food for you when you ordered something. he knew where your office was, and he’d make the trek across the runways just to bring it to you if needed. you'd stare at him, maybe share a meal if he had time. talk about your shared interest. shared interested that you may have already known from whispr.

you were a bit intrigued with his sudden pamper to you. you thought it would be because of the moment you two shared the other night, but you also figured that caleb was just a kind guy. a kind guy that was interested in you. not that you were against that– you were clearly interested in him as well.

knock knock

“come in” you say monotonously through the tempered glass. your eyes move to see who had come in, and it was caleb. he had a cup of coffee from the shop you had talked about, and your face turned to glee.

“i got you a brown shaken espresso. it’s new.” you thanked him and grabbed the cup, the hot content warming your cold fingers. oh yes, the richest government property in the country and their AC/heater was fucked.

“thank you so much. how much do i owe you?” he shakes his head as he sits across your desk, “its nothing. honestly.” caleb chuckled, and you stare at him as your computer popped up an email. you read it as it comes in. it simply read;

“maverick is captain calebs. love dad.” you state to caleb. his eyes widen as he smiles in glee, “oh really? you sure you didn’t mess with the results?” you chuckle, shaking your head as you sipped the drink, “course not. but im not surprised. you performed exceptionally well compared to others. you blew them out of the water.” you chuckle at him as the two of you converse about what the next plan of topic was for the maverick. they would be swapping his current plane with the maverick, and they’d have his name on the side and everything.

“caleb, what are you doing for the holidays?”

he stills, and for a moment he looked like he was thinking. he did promise he was going to see his pipsqueak, but ever since the events that had happened when he last went, he was a bit drawn back. but he also promised her, and he’s never broke a promise to her.

“i’m probably going to go see pipsqueak..” – “is that like your pet?” – “n-no that’s my best friend in linkon..”-- “your best friends name is pipsqueak? like the radio nav?” he looked flustered, “y-yeah.. that..but no-- thats not her actual name”

“well that’s cute.” you lie, your deadpan voice giving it away, he chuckles lowly, and puts his cup down, “what about you? anyone special you’re spending time with during the holidays?” you place your palm on your jaw, and lean your elbow into the desk, a smirk flashing in your eyes, “oh, are you offering?” his face tints pink– and his ears! you giggle as you saw his face redden, and as embarrassing as it was for him, caleb felt at home. you were so warm, and your laugh was music to his ears. he feels as if he was falling, in a good way.

“i could be..”

“well, i’ll hold you to that.. though, holidays aren’t in like another couple weeks.. but i do love to reserve ahead of time. you’ve got yourself a deal mr caleb.” you wink, and he smiles, before the intercom calls for ‘captain caleb to hangar 23’. he excuses himself as you nod at him, going back to your work.

friday- he’s out with his friends, bar hopping, except he was designated driver. they were let go early due to the fleet having to come in and conduct their meeting. the fewer eyes the better for them as they say. so now his group of friends and him were currently at another bar to celebrate the early off into the weekend.

he comes outside of the bar, taking a deep deep breath and closing his eyes. a semblance of peace was all he needed before he went crazy in there. he leans into the brick wall, steadying his breath as he continued to relax.

the neon sign hums, ‘OPEN’ with the E flickering here and there. music and muffled laughter spilling out everytime the door swings open. it was a pilot’s hangout– gritty and loud. the kind of place people go to forget the pressure of space and hardness of work.

“-- well well, you look exhausted, captain.” his eyes snapshot open, catching your eyes. he straightens a little, turning his body to meet yours. “oh! you caught me off duty. don’t tell command…” he murmurs, and you laugh gently, shaking your head, “relax, i’m not a snitch. i also don’t care what DAA’s finest does on their off time. it’s been a tiring couple months for everybody.”

a short silence settles between you two. not awkward, but not easy. he watched you stare at him, as he takes your outfit in. you wore it simple today. rings, earrings, v cut short sleeve, with high waisted pants, and white sneakers. when he noticed his prolonged stare he breaks contact, shifting his gaze through the window to watch his friends holler into a mic. he turns back to you, his eyes twinkling as it clashed with the neon colors, “what’re you doing here such a dingy area?” you join him, leaning on the brick wall yourself, and you shrug, “i love the bar food here. you?” – “i’m the guys designated driver for the night. not a big alcohol guy.”

your eyes move to look at him, your impending curiosity beating harder. you wanted to know so bad. “responsible. how sweet. what do you do to relax and give yourself time?” you smiled at him, as the two of you watch the cars drive by. caleb hums a small chuckle, “well, i like watching planes take off.. i used to do it a lot when i was younger– with my best friend. i also read a lot of books on my free time. i’m a fan of dinosaurs and jurassic park, if you’ve heard?”

you shake your head, “no i definitely have not, but it sounds cool. are you doing anything this weekend?” you go to reach your phone, and caleb shakes his head, “nope. how did your date with gideon go? he didn’t want to tell me.”

you freeze up, and purse your lips, looking off to the side, looking a bit guilty. “i couldn’t do it. my mind was just preoccupied, and i don’t really date.” you lie, as you bump phones with caleb. he just gives you a nod and a ‘ah’ before you smile up at him again, “i apologize, but i’ve gotta get going. i bought pizza for tonight, and it’s ready for me. i hope to hear from you soon?” you tilt your head at him as you start for the door. caleb could only give you a nod.

you are home. tired, damn near defeated, but home. you place your pizza in the oven and set it to warm as you head to your room to change into something comfortable. you throw on your robe and your satin loungewear. you got a couple of drinks on the way home after your run in with caleb, and decided to settle down and catch up on island love.

the pizza was sweltering, cheese ready to stretch as you pull a piece apart. it was like a cartoon pizza. it made your mouth water as you got yourself ready to pull an all nighter.

not 1 hour in you get a call. it was from caleb. you fumble your phone and hit answer as you lower the volume of the tv show, “hello?” he goes first, and you clear your throat, smiling through your words, “didn’t expect to hear from you so soon, caleb.” you could hear his laugh, his tone low and warm, “i just wanted to check and make sure you made it home..” it was a lie, and you both knew it, “you know… your delivery sucks…” you chuckle, and he does too after a second, “hm you know i’m kinda working on it.”

there was a brief silence, before you ask the obvious, “why are you calling me this late?” another silence, followed by , “just dropped everybody off, and wanted to talk to you.” your heart skips a beat, and you swallow hard, fighting the smile creeping on your face, “hey caleb, do you want to come over? if you’re not tired. do you like chinese food?”

“i’d be happy to. text me your address, and yes i do.”

“great. i’ll have majors pick you up.”

caleb was lost for words. he was in the back of a sleek and kept car. assuming yours, with majors driving and on calebs lap, was a bag of chinese food that majors had picked up on his way to pick caleb up. you certainly had a lifestyle he was not known to.

as majors gets out, he opens the door for caleb. he gets out, and he is met with a skyscraper in front of him. it was so very obvious you would have to have some sort of money to live in a place like this. he swore the foyer had real diamonds in there as he ogled.

majors leads him to the elevator and they both get in. the silence kills them, as they stand apart, staring at the metallic door.

ding! majors steps out first and followed by caleb.

“be careful with her.” caleb looks to majors, who was just walking ahead, not a beat missed, “it’ll take a while for you to get used to her ways, but she’s a good woman.” he states, as he knocks on your apartment door. the sound of your shuffles break the quietness that meditated in the hallway, and shortly after your door opens.

majors nods to you before heading out of sight, and you stand here with caleb. your face breaks out into a smile, and you step aside, urging him to come in. caleb comes in, staring in awe at how breathtaking your apartment was. there were faux models of black and white planes suspended on the sides, about the size of his forearms. he looked at the photos of what looked like was your father on maverick when he was still piloting it, grinning under his helmet. another wall was filled with your degrees, framed like trophies, centered around a photo of your graduation. you were certainly distinguished. he even looks at your dinner table– a blueprint heaven. tools, notebooks, a half-dissected engine schematic. you never stop working, it seems. “you ever turn your brain off?” he mumbles just loud enough for you to hear, and he hears your sweet chuckle float over his shoulder before you indulge him, “if i did that then i’d have no money, and you wouldn't have mav.”

on a nearby bookshelf, caleb spots a faded photo in a silver frame. a much younger version of you is perched on your dad’s shoulder, both of you wearing matching aviator sunglasses. theres grease on his flight suit, and juice stains on your overalls. he chuckled, his heart warming at the sight of. he can really tell your love for planes. hell, it might even be more than his.

he snaps out of his trance as he joins you on the couch. he looks down at the coffee table, a cute little metallic version of maverick on the middle, along with some magazines and a candle. he watches as you clear it out to the side and pat the table.

“hey. here’s the take out you wanted.” he says as he places the takeout in front of you both. “i didn’t know what you wanted, so i ordered some other stuff.” you say, as you take everything out of the bag, placing them on the coffee table. he stares at you as you take everything out, before turning his attention to the tv in front of you both. “what are we watching?” he chuckles, as you take your place next to him.

“island love. it’s juicy, it provides me drama in my life that i do not have.” you say pridefully, as you explain the premise of the show to caleb. he looked so into it, asking you questions as you restart the season just for him. he comments on the show just as much as you do, and this made your heart flutter, and the butterflies in your stomach come alive.

“you’re not gonna eat that last dumpling are you?” caleb asks with a sly grin. your brows raise, “was gonna save it…” he leans over, splitting the dumpling in half with his chopstick, and drops a piece into your container. he smirks at you, “compromise” he says as he chews on his half.

there’s a lull. the screen flickers. the two of you are quiet but not uncomfortable. he leans back a little, finishing his drink, and you catch yourself watching him. he looks good here. settled. natural. too natural, maybe. you shake the thought, tucking your feet beneath you. ugh god he’s fine.

you two talk—about work, about families, about stupid stuff. it’s easy, and warm, and you realize somewhere between the second dumpling and your explanation of why jamie should’ve never picked chloe that you don’t want this night to end.

“so hey, question.” you grab the remote and turn the volume down as you look at caleb. he looks at you, grabbing his drink, “gideon told me you use whispr? he told me about your silly challenge.” you laugh briskly, and he nods, joining in, “did he tell you that i had to take them out for dinner?” he chuckles again, placing his drink on the table. your eyes never leave his, as you open your mouth to speak:

“ captain apple, was it?”

his eyes widen.

it takes him back to the time where he got busted by grandma. he was trying to sneak some food up the stairs, and was strictly forbidden to take food in his room. so when he got busted he looked like a deer in headlights.

the tension between you and caleb shifts, subtle but unmistakable. you tilt your head, repeating your words to him. his eyes finally lock with yours, his awkward smile catching the gleam of the tv, “did he… uh tell you my silly nickname on there?”

ah, he was playing stupid. you shake your head at him, “ha, for sure. i used it a little bit as well.. lets see.. what was my name on there” you fake ponder, before you continue to mess with him, "space baby i think?" he just stares at you, “oh..” he breathes.

you always wanted to know who was that charmer in those messages that kept you late at night. the man who was always making you laugh and the one who indulged you. knowing it was caleb made your heart a little happier, but you still wanted to know why the fuck?

“i can explain…” he starts and you just nod,

“go ahead because we have all night— weekend even.”

his gaze flicker at you, then his hand, “it’s not what you think… i… when i went to go visit her, my childhood friend? the one i was telling you about that one day., she saw the text messages.” your cheeks flush, those were certainly some raunchy messages. you wondered which one, and a part of you wanted to laugh at her, but you nod at him, “she didn’t like… that i was getting too close to you. she suddenly got- possessive? i’ve never seen the side of her.” he mutters under his breath and you breathe a sigh through your nostril. 'sounds like somebody had a crush they didn't want to come to terms with', you think as you allow him to continue,

“she thought… well, that we were getting too close.. that i was getting…. involved..” caleb shifts uncomfortably, his hands clenching into a fist but quickly releasing, “so to appease her i unadded you.”

the words sting more than you expected, even though you weren’t really expecting much, it still sucked to hear. unadded. like you were just someone to be removed. the weight of it presses down on you, though you try to smile through it— albeit a little bittersweet.

“so you let your best friend dictate who you can and can’t talk to?” you try to keep the humor in your voice but it comes off a bit cutting to him. that most definitely wasn’t your type of man. having this discussion was cutting it close for you as it is “it’s not like that…” his voice softens with an edge of guilt to it, “i didn’t want to but… it got complicated..”

your heart flutters out of your chest, and your brows scrunch towards each other, “caleb, complicated was me rerunning tests 6 times in a row with random ass results. i don’t want to be rude but it just sounds like you have no backbone for this girl.” you pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing. he feared that you were right. you were speaking truth to existence and he couldn’t do a damn thing. if anything he enjoyed the truthfulness from you. “im going to state the obvious. we were flirting back and fourth, like a lot. what are we supposed to do with this new found information?”

caleb looks up at you as he ponders himself, “to be honest. i was a bit more bold in the text messages because… i thought we’d never meet..” you chuckle at him, cheeks tinted in pink, “me too.” but you snap out of it. now was not the time to fall for his sexiness! OR do, either way works.

“im going to level with you. im not much for the three way couple stuff… so if you and i are gonna take whispr out of the internet then… you know.” you wag your finger at him, a playful but curious smile on your face now. caleb laughs, calming down, “yeah i… i know..” you were not going to deal with this little girl who was his best friend, and you were going to make that very and painfully clear if you had to, and from how much caleb figured, you weren’t going to play about him. it made his heart flutter, amongst other things. you looked sexy when you were possessive.

“so, what do you want to do?” you ask after a minute of silence, caleb leans into his arm staring down at you, and you steel your nerves. those lips were calling your name, “let me ask you a better question. are you interested in me?” he smirks into the question, seeing you unravel in real time. “uhm… yes obviously.” you look away from him, your face turning red. caleb takes his opportunity to chuckle, his fingers hooking your chin and forcing you to stare at him. he leans down to get a better look at you. your eyes were locked on his as he continued, “then… we’ll carry off where we were in whispr, yeah?”

you were just at a loss of words.

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𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ! - @rcvcgers, @mcdepressed290, @young-adult-summer, @unstablemiss, @britishfailure, @caramelizedpopcirn, @velvtcherie, @lonelylandofan , @llamabois , @i-messed-up-big-time , @mysticcollectionvoid, @iamawkwardandshy, @auraficial, @mxkvlio, @mysticcollectionvoid, @rxelarailuj, @angelwhizpers,

#lads x reader #love and deepspace #lads caleb #lads #lads mc #loveanddeepspace #caleb x reader #lnds caleb #lnds #calebmc #caleb lads #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x non!mc reader #mc x caleb #non mc x caleb #non!mc x caleb #xia yizhou

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meolia · 3 days ago

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. *. ⋆ twisted wonderland: how dateable are they? (heartslabyul ver.)

a/n: so. back in 2022/2023 i vaguely remember doing this on an old blog i had and i thought, since im obsessed with this game again i should redo it with newfound knowledge el oh el / oh and feel free to debate me on this i just need people to talk to 💔 . also i apologize that the cons have more words than the pros because i have a lot to say about them BYEHEYE

cw: profanity, troubled teenage boys, no sugarcoating, involves content from the vignettes, main story & events from the eng server, involves SOME headcanons.

1 (extremely undateable), 10 (extremely dateable); im also kind of biased but i swear to remain neutral💔💔💔

other parts tba.

HEARTSLABYUL

Riddle Rosehearts

PROS: hardworking, determined and adaptable. we've seen this guy study so hard ever since he popped out of the womb and it resulting in him coming out on top, and he could've easily skipped a few grades because of how smart he is academically and magically. he's also able to remain coolheaded in stressful situations, oftentimes coming up with (usually) rational solutions. he's also really cute when it comes to cakes/tarts. he'd get mad on your behalf, he'd also be kinder towards you, he'd offer to tutor you on subjects you don't understand and tries to be patient, just for you. chronically offline (thats a good thing yes)

CONS: well. first, he's got some serious anger issues he needs to work on; it's not his fault per se, but with how unpredictable the bursts of angers are will probably be tiring. he takes offense to a lot of things and admittedly, he's better post OB but he's still got a long way to go. second, his obsession with the queen of hearts' rules are INsane. there's been instances where he expects outsiders that aren't even in heartslabyul to abide by her rules which is,,, haha lol ermmmmm. he'd probably expect you to do the same. just because youre his partner doesn't mean he'd let you go scot-free if you break any one of them...! again, he's better post OB but still. third, his mother and overall tense family relationship. he's probably this way because of his mother's influence and insane expectations of him, so it won't be very surprising if his mother has a LOT of opinions on you. lastly, he lacks joy and whimsy. he literally never watches movies or play games etc., deeming them unnecessary which is insane????????? HOLY crap im surprised hes still intact

MY FINAL VERDICT: 7/10 — he would make a decent boyfriend. me personally i probably wouldnt date him people like him stress me out but each to their own! he needs to sort himself out before even thinking of dating though

Trey Clover

PROS: he's very big brother like, the kind that's reassuring and makes you feel safe whenever he's near. he rarely gets mad, and if he does, he wouldn't resort to yelling or act irrational. mature, maybe overly so for a guy his age and surrounded by the people he's around, but that's a plus for him. CAN COOK AND CAN BAKE. his family owns a bakery too so you'd probably get discounts because you're dating him. also, his love language is probably acts of service so you can probably expect him to carry most of your stuff, help you with organizing spaces etc. gives in easily... could be both a pro and con. soft-spoken teeheeHEE... he didn't make it into the top 30 of male characters japanese women want to date for no reason.

CONS: that god awful fucking obsession he has with cleaning teeth. OH my god the way he was all like "im the only normal one here omfgggg" during twisted halloween part 2 and then when sebek mentions that his father is a dentist he immediately starts smiling WIDELY and kept pressing him for more info about his dad's dental work like that scene of shrek signing a contract by that little man. whenever he mentions "brushing your teeth" it's going to sound like a threat even when he doesn't mean it that way. going back to gives in easily; it'll become a problem because you know damn well he'd go "umm... nevermind" very often.

MY FINAL VERDICT: 8/10. deducted two points because im genuinely terrified of his cleaning teeth HOBBY. otherwise id say he'd make a really sweet boyfriend. would date, probably.

Cater Diamond

PROS: he's chill, laid-back and easygoing (are there any differences between those three words im sobbing). he plays mediator during tense situations, and he offers peaceful resolutions (most of the time). perceptive, and he's got some nice intuitions. his psychic abilities are cray craaay... I just stared at what I typed for a full minute. I'm never doing that EVER again. he's usually optimistic, and he's also really cheerful so if you like some rainbows in your life, he's your guy. i KNOW he's good at photography since he posts on magicam so much & probably has a decent following. he would take the most godly pictures of you if you wanted. i think he'd break his back and knees to get that angle for you.

CONS: The way he incorporates hashtags in almost every single conversation will kill me. youd be talking about something horrid that happened to you that day and he'd say some shit like "oh no! that's hashtag #diabolical!" (double hashtags since the game does that... ik they dont mean it like that but i just feel like that'd be funny). apparently has a death glare so terrifying it'd kill a man on the spot? you'd either be wetting your pants or be more attracted to him. either way, if you guys ever get into a heated argument and he pulls that out umm bless you i think? and he maybe posts on magicam. too much. it'd be something insignificant and not very worth journalling but he'd take a picture anyways and post it online with some long stupid hashtags like #DelightfulFurry #HotPinkBangin #OneWithTheCrowd with an image of heartslabyul freshmen wearing pink and feeding the flamingoes. but i guess that's part of his charm...?

MY FINAL VERDICT: 7/10. he's handsome and he's a cool guy but the way he talks in hashtags and how he lives on magicam will be a big fat turnoff for me. if you like it, good for you! cay-cay would make me decay-cay!

Ace Trappola

PROS: he'd get mad on your behalf (see to when he punched riddle in the face because he insulted mc). cares for you even if he doesn't admit it outwardly, but will do stuff in the background to help you, even if just a little bit like that time in the halloween event where he and deuce personally went to ask the ghosts to make a costume for mc and grim so they wouldn't have to miss out. playful, there wouldn't be a day that's boring when with him.

CONS: got an extremely loose tongue that got him into trouble loads of times. can't really shut up which is very bad...! he sometimes doesn't think before speaking so ahaha. SO irresponsible sometimes he can fight grim on that. remember when he ran from his punishment at the start of the game? yeah. also is really embarrassing sometimes i have to turn my phone off to ponder about life whenever he says some stupid crap that WILL come back and bite him in the ass later on. also will probably get bored of you? like that one time he ghosted his middle school girlfriend because he doesn't wanna do it anymore... eeeeyikes.

MY FINAL VERDICT: 6/10. the honeymoon phase will be the best, and the rest you just gotta hope he doesn't pull an average teenage boy.

Deuce Spade

PROS: so so so extremely sweet. is willing to do almost anything to make it up to you if he ever wronged you. is willing to change, like how he decided to try and become a model student because he saw his mom crying about him being a delinquent, so if he has any flaws/bad habits that make you uncomfortable he'd try to be better. brave, like stupidly so. was ready to fight malleus in malleus's sr lab coat vignette even if it meant he'd die LMFAOOO. he's also someone who'd get mad on your behalf, but even more than ace. dude WILL get into a brawl with ten people for you. passionate. he'd also be so gentle and kind towards you like how he treats mc in game, never raising his voice at you and if he inadvertently does it he'd apologize immediately. his determination is amazing too. his love for eggs is also really cute... sorry im just rambling now i just really love him bye

CONS: oblivious and very gullible. there's been SO many times where he agrees too fast or just believed everything without a fact check. like in glorious masquerade where azul was talking to him about taking his UM he just went "okay!" without asking why. would probably get into a lot of unneeded trouble for this fact alone.

MY FINAL VERDICT: 10/10. this is a bias on my part but he'd make the sweetest and most amazing boyfriend EVER. he's trying!!! he really is!!! i think he's charmingly idiotic gahahahha hhahaa

HEARTSLABYUL MOST DATEABLE TO LEAST DATEABLE:

DEUCE > TREY > CATER > RIDDLE > ACE

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my-drama-heart2406 · 3 days ago

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I would like to add that even though festivals differ all around India from region to region(not only from North to South) many times, on the same dates people celebrate more or less the same thing. But it's called something different and the ways to celebrate the festival is also different.

Durga Puja is celebrated by Bengalis. While celebrated mostly in eastern states, it is also celebrated across the whole country by the Bengali communities over there. We worship Durga Ma who is another form of Goddess Parvati. Now in most other North Indian regions/communities, they celebrate Navratri for nine-nights(the literal meaning), while worshipping Sherawali Mata who is also another form of Goddess Parvati. The difference is that Durga Ma sits on a lion and Sherawali Mata on a tiger. (There's more differences obviously, but that's for you to find out.)

Navratri is celebrated for nine days, during night time, and the tenth day is called Dusshera. Now for those same nine days, Durga Puja is celebrated from the EVENING of the SIXTH DAY(Shasthi). It is a very strict rule, while the Puja does start from also the first day, for the first five days people are ONLY supposed make preparations(yes you do need that much preparation, Durga Puja is a very big event and requires a lot of people, it's not a small event kind of thing). One is supposed to get the Murti (statue) in those five days, but the face of gods and goddesses is supposed to kept covered till Shasthi evening. It's celebrated for 4 days from the Shasthi evening, to Saptami (seventh day), Ashtami (eighth day) and Navami (ninth day). And it finally ends on the 10th day, which is called Vijayadashami, but this is done during the day, because by evening the Goddess's statue has to be submerged in water.

Now, back to my earlier point, for those same 10 days Dasara is celebrated in Karnataka. On the ninth day Ayudha Puja is celebrated and on the 10th day Vijayadashami.

See how these are same festivals, worshipping the same deity, during the same intervals of time, but are still celebrated so completely differently?

Now see every Hindu household has a mini Mandir. It's basically a place where small statues and pictures of deities are kept where they are worshipped(puja and aarti) DAILY, twice- once in the morning before you break fast, and once in the evening. Before a puja, evening or morning, you should be CLEAN™, which means bathed and in freshly washed clothes(see this is why Indians need so much water) and this HAS to be done DAILY. Even though the evening prayer system is not followed in many households, due to various reasons(because you need to wash up and change clothes AGAIN in the evening too so...), most even slightly strict households do this. And in case of festivals for Gods this is religiously followed(see where I'm going with this??)

And that's how it is for Durga Puja. While preparations are being made for the first five days the Murti is NOT🚫 to be left alone. And the deities' faces are revealed during the Evening Puja of the sixth day i.e. Shasthi. And in the case of Navratri, this is done during the evening of the first day i.e. Prathama. These names for days are Sanskrit words and are derived from the lunar calendar.

Ganesh Puja i.e. festival celebrating Lord Ganesh, (which happens in the month of Aug-Sep, but is officially the first festival in the Hindu Calendar. No other God is to be worshipped with a festival until Ganesh Puja is done. There is a story behind it, but I'll leave the mythology research to you.) is called Ganesh Chaturthi, because it's celebrated from the fourth day i.e. Chaturthi of the month of Bhadra. While mainly celebrated by Marathis, it is a widely celebrated festival across the country. Having lived in both in East, West, North and South the festival, even though celebrated every where has very different rituals across states and regions.

Another very big difference is the Prasad/Prasadam in every region. It's the ceremonial food(??) given after every Puja. It can of varying quantities ranging from a small candy-sized piece of any sweet dish, to a full buffet of meal, or even a single tablespoon of liquid. Prasad also difers across the country. While in North India rice is prohibited even as a meal during any Puja (until and unless it's Bhog- again do your research), I've had rice as Prasad in South India.

See India is a vast and diverse country with over 700 different languages and dialects. Hindi is NOT the only language. There's differences in people, their behaviour, culture, language, food and even the weather and terrain within just a few kilometres(YES KILOMETRES not miles). There are rituals followed specific to some localities, that people a few hundred kilometres away might not have even heard of.

So if you find out about something that happens in "India", I suggest you do a more thorough research because I can guarantee that that something is specific to some particular region, and go to something else entirely will be happening.

How to write an Indian Character by an Indian person.

Disclaimer: when i say Indian, I don’t mean native Indian. I mean INDIAN INDIAN. You know from that large asian country that’s shaped like a kite? Yeah, that Indian.

1. India is a large country not all Indians are Hindu.

2. Not all Indians are vegetarian.

3. Not all Indians are math wizards.

4. Not all Indian people are nerds who don’t know how to date.

5. Not all Indian people are straight and cis. (if you’re writing about Hijra or Kinner character then please do a lot of research into their culture before you write them, Hijras and Kinners are often misrepresented in Indian society to be evil and such other things)

6. We don’t eat curry, curry is not a real thing. You have to be more specific than just curry. Like please for the love of god.

7. The name of the language of India is Hindi, not Indian.

8. India has many other languages other than Hindi. Eg. Punjabi, Gujarati, Telugu, Marathi and many households prefer to talk in their native state/city languages rather than Hindi.

9. Indian cuisines vary from region to region. So not everyone in India likes to eat the same thing. North Indian and South Indian cuisines are very different from each other.

10. Not all Indians celebrate the same festivals but that doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy them all.

11. Many people’s Indian accents are a lot more subtle than you think.

12. Different regions in India have different cultural clothing.

13. Not all Indian people look like your typical brown skin black hair, northeast Indians more often than not have features very similar to Chinese people. (But remember when you write northeastern Indian characters, many of them are discriminated against in mainland India and some of them don’t really believe themselves to be Indian)

14. Most Indian don’t use toilet paper (look into this yourself, I’m not gonna go any further)

15. Indian English is more similar to British English than American. Indian English has its own slang too. Some Indian English things to know: - Duffer = slang for stupid - We a lot of the times have problems differentiating between the pronunciation of V and W. - A lot of people pronounce the G in gesture how you pronounce the G in Grapes instead of pronouncing it like a J - We say rubber not eraser. - Schedule is pronounced Shehdule not Skedual. - Mother promise is a way of saying pinky promise. - Eating my brain means you’re irritating. Eg. “Stop eating my brain” which means stop irritating me. - Senti is slang for sentimental - Dickey refers to the boot of the car (please don’t ask) - Cheatercock is a person who cheated in a test, or an exam or did something to gain advantage in life (not a cheater as in in the romantic/sexual sense)

16. We have a tendency of saying yaar or na after things. Even when we text.

17. ‘Are yaar’ is an expression that can have multiple meanings depending on the context you use it in. But it usually is a saying of exasperation.

Indian characters can be very hard to write depending on which religion, region, gender, sexuality you choose for them to be. India is a large country, when writing Indian characters, remember that this is the second largest population in the entire world, not all Indian characters are the same, especially the ones you see these days in mainstream western media.

#you might get confused #but don't worry #our culture and rituals confuse even us sometimes

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m-neuvillette · 16 hours ago

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Dante Scenario

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: day 9473292736291929 thinking constantly about this man. This idea has been stuck in my brain for so long so I had to write about it

* You are Dante’s assistant. You basically do everything for him. You do finances, cook, patch up his friends after a mission, you help run Devil May Cry, and so much more

* You and Dante have a really close relationship that has built up over the years

* Everyone knows you two like each other and always begs you two to confess to each other. But the other party always says “they don’t see me like that” or “I don’t wanna ruin our friendship”

* That is until one day…

* Imagine Lady comes to Devil May Cry to talk to Dante about a job

* There’s this club that has been having a lot of females disappear and it’s always the same story. “A single girl sitting at the bar and a guy comes up and talks to them, they leave and never get seen again.”

* Lady deduced it’s a sex appeal demon, that is essentially a walking aphrodisiac. It shows the desires of the woman to her then puts her under a spell to control her. After the spell cast the woman follows whatever the demon wants (and that’s just the demon literally sucking the life out of her)

* Lady says she wants Dante’s help with this mission

* Dante brings up how he’s a guy and he can’t do too much to get close to the demon. But if he can know what the demon looks like he can try and hunt from the shadows

* Lady brings up how the demon changes appearances every night so nobody knows who it actually is

* Dante suggests she lead the demon out but lady quickly shuts down that idea because the demon would definitely recognize her

* Dante and Lady go through multiple plans and all end up seeming like dead ends

* You sit there quietly and just listen to them go back and forth. You don’t know much about demon hunting besides stuff you’ve picked up on throughout the years

* Then it clicks in your head after they have another failed idea

* “What if I am the bait for the demon?”

* Lady looks at you and talks about how that is a great idea and starts making a plan

* But while that happens Dante stands up lets out a firm “No.”

* Lady rolls her eyes and looks at him, “It’s the only shot we got. We need to get this mission done and this is our best idea.”

* Dante looks pissed and you get it

* “I am NOT putting her in danger just so I can kill this fucking demon. We still have time so let me think of a new plan.”

* You stand up and walk over to Dante and look him dead in the eyes, “Dante we don’t have any more time. The more we wait there’ll be more innocent women that will die. I don’t want to put anyone through that. If I can help and prevent it I’ll do it.”

* Dante quickly refutes “But what about you? What if you get hurt? I could never live with myself if something happened to you because I put you in danger.”

* You reach for his hands and hold them tightly, “Well Mr Pro demon hunter will just have to protect me right? I feel the safest when I know you’re around anyways.”

* Dante tightens the grip on your hands, “I’ll protect you with my life, I promise you.”

* You, Lady, and Dante all make a quick plan because you have to get ready since you are going to the club tonight

* The plan is to have Lady as surveillance and watching you at all times (on the clubs cameras) you’re also going to be hooked up to a mic that both her and Dante can listen to

* Dante is going to be in the club laying low trying to find the demon before he can get to you

* You all confirm the plan then you go get ready

* You get dressed in a tight and short red dress (you saved it for whenever Dante would ask you on a made up date you made in your dreams)

* You put on some heels, makeup and perfume and you walk into the main area where Dante and Lady are setting up the mics

* Once you walk in Lady cheers you on and compliments you

* You thank her and turn your attention to Dante who can’t take his eyes off of you

* You’re so beautiful and captivating in his eyes, but does he admit that? No…

* He just shakes his head and goes back to adjusting his mic

* Lady frowns and looks back at you. She sees you’re upset from the lack of compliments by Dante

* Lady waves you over to put on your mic and make sure it’s hidden so the demon won’t be able to tell

* After it’s all set up Dante has you test it to make sure it’s working, once the test is successful you all head out

* You’re sitting in the back of the van Lady has with Dante

* As you all get close to the bar you feel your nerves skyrocket

* It is now that you realized what you offered to do and that it’s actually going to happen

* You’re going to be face to face with a demon and you’re not even going to know

* What happens if it succeeds? Will you die? Will it be painful?

* You start to bounce your leg up and down due to your anxiousness

* You then feel a big warm hand settle on your knee stopping you

* You look over at Dante who is already looking at you

* “I told you, I promise I’ll protect you. I won’t let anything happen, you’ll be safe.”

* You nod and thank him

* You two just look at each other for what feels like a century

* Dante opens his mouth but is cut off by Lady announcing you three have arrived

* Lady gets out of the front seat and comes to the back where she’s tapped into all the cameras in the club

* Once that’s good she spins in her seat to face you, “Alright, you’re turn. Dante will enter in about 10 minutes. Be safe.”

* “Okay I’m off then.” You go to leave out of the van but Dante grabs your wrist stopping you

* You look back at him, “If you ever feel uncomfortable and want to stop say pizza and I’ll come to you.”

* “Got it. I’ll say pizza if I’m uncomfortable.”

* You can see Dante’s expression soften a bit and see some stress melt off of him but he still looks super tense

* You leave the van and head into the club

* You walk straight to the bar and order a drink

* You slowly sip on your drink looking around waiting for anyone to approach you

* After about 45 minutes no one has come up to you and it confuses you. Are you doing something wrong?

* As if Dante can hear your thoughts, “You’re not doing anything wrong sweetheart. We got here a bit early to make sure we would be all set up.”

* You nod obviously knowing he can see you responding non verbally to him

* Another 10 minutes goes by and Lady speaks up into the mic, “Someone a little off looking just came in. He’s got on a white polo and blue dress pants. He’s has brown hair that is gelled up.”

* Dante then speaks up, “Got eyes on him.”

* Lady then calls your name, “He’s coming your way.”

* You take the last sip on your drink, by the time you’re putting it down someone appears by you

* “Well it looks like I got lucky today. The pretty girl I wanted to chat with has a drink that is all gone. Do you mind if I buy you another one?”

* You look at the man and see the exact one Lady described

* Steeling yourself you bat your eyelashes and flirt back, “Well I can never turn down a drink from someone so handsome. Do you mind joining me? There’s an open seat right there.”

* The man sits down and flags the bartender down and orders two drinks

* You stare at him trying to look if anything is off. You’ve barely seen demons so you can’t tell

* The bartender comes back with the drinks and the man faces you

* He tips his drink up to do a cheers, you tap his glass and you both take a sip of your drinks

* Small talk ensues. You’ve two talk about your jobs (well your made up one), what foods you like, what’s your favorite animal and so on

* The man finishes his drink and stares deeply at you, it kinda makes you uncomfortable

* It doesn’t feel like the one Dante gives you. His look makes your heart race but the look you’re getting now makes you feel sick

* The man pushes some hair behind your ear and then rests his hand on your cheek

* If you weren’t on a mission you’d slap his hand away

* “So tell me, what is a beautiful and single girl doing here all alone?”

* He rubs his thumb against your cheek and it’s like your mind starts to become foggy

* You don’t even really know what you’re saying while you talk

* “Oh it’s because I love someone and he doesn’t love me back.”

* The man looks shocked, “Oh really?”

* You bite your lip, “Yeah…”

* “Does he have a girlfriend already? Or maybe even a wife?”

* You shake your head, you’re not even in control anymore

* “He doesn’t.”

* The man smirks, “Then why doesn’t want you?”

* You think about it and don’t know. Why doesn’t Dante want you?

* “I don’t know…”

* The man scoots closer, “Come on sweetheart, I know you can do better than that.”

* Your stomach twists when he called you sweetheart, it doesn’t give you the same emotions it did earlier when Dante called you that

* You can hear talking in your ear but your brain can’t register it

* Little did you know it was Dante freaking out and trying to call our to you

* Lady tries to stop him so he doesn’t fuck up the mission

* Dante growls “I’m not going to let her get hypnotized by the demon, and I sure as hell don’t want to listen to her talk about the man she loves.”

* Dante then hears you speak up again

* “Well he’s my boss. He is the most beautiful person in this world. He has such a selfless heart and cares about everyone around him. He works so hard and never stops until he knows peace is coming. He is also so funny and silly. He never fails to make me laugh and smile. He’s also a great dancer. Whether he’s dancing by himself or drags me to dance with him. I love him so much but I don’t think he sees me in that way at all.”

* Your voice cracks but you continue, “I’m not strong at all. His job is very taxing and I can’t even keep up with it. I feel so useless any time he is so tired and stressed because I can’t do anything to help. He’s also surrounded by so many beautiful and strong women that I get outshined in every single way. He never compliments my looks and I just don’t think I’m his type.”

* The man brings your focus back to him, “Do you want me to help you?” He pulls his hand away and it’s like you’re in a deeper trance

* You nod and let out a meek “Yes.”

* The man smirks, “Okay what’s this man’s name?”

* “Dante…”

* Dante’s voice hitches. He feels like he can’t breathe. His heart is racing and he reaches for his chest to hold it

* He clenches his chest and heaves, How can he let you think he doesn’t love you? How did he mess up so fucking bad that you think you’re not special? You’re the most important person in the world to him. You’re so smart, kind, caring, funny, and absolutely gorgeous. He couldn’t compliment you earlier because he couldn’t find the words to describe how beautiful you are.

* Lady yells his name over the mic, “You idiot try and talk to her to see if we can get her out of the trance so she doesn’t get taken.”

* Dante frantically calls out your name

* He sees you and watches you start to follow the demon

* “Baby please, that’s not me. Don’t let him manipulate you. I promise you, I will take you out after this.”

* His voice cracks, “Just please don’t go with him.”

* By the time he finishes the demon has you in the back alley and Lady tells Dante how to get there and he goes running

* Dante tries to talk to you more though

* You feel like shit in all honesty

* This all feels off, the man in front of you looks like Dante but doesn’t feel like Dante

* His hands aren’t super big, they aren’t rough with callous’

* This doesn’t feel right

* You hear something in your ear again but it’s getting louder and louder

* “Baby- please listen to me. Please let me know you hear me. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.”

* You let go of the demons hand and you mind stops fogging up a bit

* You breathe out “Dante?”

* You hear a huff and your name, “Is that you?”

* “Dante? Why is there two of you?

* “The one in front you isn’t real. Im coming to you now, get out of there.”

* The demon obviously caught on, “Come on sweetheart, don’t let go.”

* You try and rip your hand out of his but it’s futile you can loosen the demons strong grip

* “Oh so you figured it out? Well I’m not going to let you survive anyways. I’ll just devour you right now.”

* The demon grabs you by your shoulders and pins you hard against the wall

* The demon bares it fangs and goes for your neck and you hear something through the mic,“Don’t move.”

* A couple shots go off and you hear a howl from the demon

* The demon lets go of you and staggers back then a flash of red appears in front of you

* You breathe heavily “Dante.”

* Dante doesn’t look back but grabs his sword, you see his grip is tight

* “Don’t worry I’m here now. I’ll protect you, just like I promised.”

* The demon laughs, “So this is the man that you love but doesn’t care an inkling about you?”

* The demon looks at Dante, “You know I could see her memories and feel her emotions? I felt the hurt and pain you cause her. You hurt her more than anyone. YOU SAY YOU WANT TO PROTECT HER BUT YOU’VE ONLY HURT HER!”

* Dante freezes and you can see his attention wavering

* The demon tries to capitalize on this but you yell, “THAT’S NOT TRUE! Dante means the world to me and he makes me so happy. Being by him no matter what the context feels me with so much joy. I’m not going to let you make him think he’s not everything to me.”

* That seems to snap Dante back into the fight

* It catches the demon off guard and has a hard time fighting off the many attacks Dante his hitting him with

* Dante deals a fatal blow and the demon falls to the ground

* He stands over the demon who is badly injured and can barely move

* The demon growls, “You want to act like a hero but you’re not! I’m the hero here, I helped women like her be able to get what they wanted. I helped them! Not you. You only have hurt the girl that claims to love you. Stop acting like you’re some goddamn saint!”

* Dante stares at the demon, “No you killed innocent women for your selfish greed. You are no hero. A hero doesn’t march around saying all the good deeds they do, their actions are what speak volume. I’m not hero and no saint, and never claimed to be. But if she told me to do something I’d do it. If she wanted the world I’d give it to her.”

* He grips his sword and slices the demon’s head off

* “I’d do anything for her, after all I love her.”

* You breath hitches at his words

* Dante turns around and stares at you. He looks you up and down, “Are you okay? It didn’t hurt you right?”

* “I’m okay, I’m not hurt.” You two stare each other in silence

* Dante can’t take it anymore and walks over to you and pulls you into a tight embrace

* He holds your head to his chest and you can feel how fast his heart is racing

* “You really scared me sweetheart.”

* “I’m sorry Dante.”

* “Please don’t apologize for anything. I should be the one to apologize.”

* “Dante if what it said bothered you don’t listen to it-“

* Dante squeezes you tighter to him, “I’m not good with words and never have been. But I’ll try my hardest.”

* “I don’t know what I would do without you. You make every day so much better. You keep me sane in this fucked up world we live in.”

* Dante leans back and puts one of his hands on the back of your head to connect your foreheads

* You stare deeply into his beautiful blue eyes

* “I don’t think you understand how radiant you are in my eyes. You walk into a room and my eyes are instantly drawn to you. Damn it… earlier I wanted to compliment you non stop but didn’t know how or what to say. No words felt right to describe what I thought.”

* Dante softly calls your name, “You are so beautiful. Whether you be in this dress, in your pajamas, in my jacket, or wrapped up in a blanket. Even when you’re tired, exhausted, or stressed you’re still so breathtaking in my eyes. Your smile and laugh is so contagious and I crave to hear and see those two things every day. I don’t care if I have to look like an idiot to get my wish, I’ll do it.”

* “Dante-“

* “I’m not done.”

* “Having you in my arms makes me feel at home. You are my home. Coming back to you after every mission makes my heart race. I want to be with you always. I meant what I told that damn demon, if you wanted the world I’d give it to you. No matter what I had to do. Because I love you and nothing will change that.”

* You are lost for words, you have no idea what to say

* Dante was right he’s never been good with words but you can tell he put everything into this declaration

* “Dante, I don’t need the world. I just need you because I love you.”

* Dante lets out a deep sigh that turns into a laugh, “Thank god that confession was good. Don’t know what I would have done if it didn’t.”

* You laugh, “Even just if you just said you loved me I would have believed you.”

* “You deserve more than just a simple confession. But I want to do one more thing.”

* “What is that?”

* “I really and I mean really want to kiss you.”

* “And I really want you to kiss me.” You beam up at him.

* Dante leans down and pulls your head close to connect both of your lips

* The kiss is soft but is over quick

* You two pull apart and then Dante doesn’t hesitate to go back in

* He connect your lips in a heated clash

* He pulls your hips closer to him so you’re completely pressed up against him

* He slides his tongue into your mouth to connect with yours

* You get his message and let your lips and tongues dance in the heated clash

* Dante disconnects again and goes to kiss down your neck

* “You drive me fucking crazy.”

* He knows he finds your sweet spot once you let out a little moan

* “There it is.” He sucks on the spot which makes you let out another moan

* Before Dante can continue his actions you two hear a throat clear in the mic

* “Finally you two confessed but how about the first time you fuck it isn’t in a dirty alley. Where I can also hear.”

* You hide yourself in Dante’s chest out of embarrassment and the man groans

* “Did you really have to ruin the moment? Also I wouldn’t fuck her in a dirty alley, I have dignity.”

* “Whatever just get back to the van so I can take you guys back.”

* “Okay, okay we’re coming.”

* Dante steps back and takes off his jacket and helps you put it on

* Once it on he holds out his hand, “Let’s go home.”

* You grin at him, “Let’s!”

#dante sparda x reader #dante x reader

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trippinsorrows · 2 days ago

Text

love lies

authors note: tribal daddy's current storyline had me inspired. these characters and 98% of this dynamic is from a personal story i've been writing since last year. some of these scenes were taken directly from that. some things have also been changed/modified/removed to fit the specific storyline of this oneshot.

an important thing to note is that in this universe, wrestling is all real. there's no kayfabe. everything that happens is real. wwe is also up there in ranks with the nba and nfl. the big three, if you will.

roman and jey are not married in this. jey is divorced with two kids. roman....just know he has no wife. lmao.

words: 17k (if you're new around here, i'm so sorry. i talk too much.)

warnings: angst. smut. fluff. age gap. unhealthy (toxic?) dynamics. roman is....annoying.

song inspo: 'love lies' by khalid feat. normani // 'for the night' by chloe feat. latto

She should have broken it off a long time ago.

Alamea knows this and has known this for some time. The same way she knows this should have never started in the first place.

She should have done exactly what she was instructed to do by anyone and everyone who offered advice when she was first hired by WWE. Different variations of the same shared warning across the board.

Stay away from Roman Reigns.

Truth be told, it didn’t—or shouldn’t—have needed to be said. His reputation spoke for itself. The self-proclaimed Head of the Table, and his unassailable Bloodline, ran WWE. Had for the past couple years following Roman’s disappearance and reappearance with a new, also self-assigned title as the Tribal Chief. And, it’d been a hell of a run ever since.

Or, it was.

Because while Roman sat untouched and unbeatable at the top of his throne for years, it all came crashing down in the most unexpected—or expected—of ways on April 7th, 2024 when the unthinkable happened.

Roman lost.

He lost.

A historic 1,316 day title reign ended on the count of a one, two, three.

Cody Rhodes defeated him and finished not only his story but Roman’s as well.

A story that, truly, Roman himself allowed to end in a lot of ways. The chair to the back of Seth allotted him brief satisfaction but long-term misery. A personal choice that he made that cost him everything.

Something that felt and seemed inconceivable at the time.

“I made a personal decision,” he’d told her once as they laid in bed, his gaze on the ceiling, hers focused on the wall beside them. She was atop him, finger gently tracing the outline of his tattoos. “And, I don’t regret it. I’d do it again.”

She wonders if he still feels the same.

She also wished, sometimes, at least, that he wouldn’t do that.

Talk to her like that. It was…confusing.

It all is, but especially that.

Especially something so….personal.

Then again, one could argue that sex was even more personal, because it is, and yet, that didn’t stop her every time he showed up at her door.

And, he always does.

At one point or another.

—-------

March, 2022

The most frequent piece of advice that Alamea had been given since being hired at the WWE was, again, relatively simply enough.

Stay on task, keep up with her responsibilities, and above all, stay out of Roman Reign’s way.

She took heed to all of it, but especially the latter of the three.

Or, at least, tried to.

Because only she could manage to run, literally run, into the man himself on her very first day.

Of course.

And what an impact it was. She felt like the wind was knocked out of her. The man was a brick wall. A solid, muscled, impenetrable wall. The brace sent her flat on her ass, portfolio falling beside her, embarrassment fighting with anxiety. Not only was she late on her first official day, but now she’d broken the cardinal rule in less than 1 hour.

Go fucking figure.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Paul Heyman, also known as the Wise Man, and Roman’s chief advisor, was instantly berating her. “How dare you—”

Roman lifted his hand to silence Paul, and it was only then that she realized it was because he was staring directly at her. A quiet gasp left her mouth at the sight of him.

She’d seen him on TV plenty of times, watching wrestling every Friday and Monday night when she could, live, and recorded on the days where she had work or class. He’d always been attractive to her, even on the TV screen. But, in person….in person was something entirely different. He was both beautiful and terrifying in the same breath. Beautiful, weary brown eyes focused on her, assessing her, slowly moving up and over her seated, sprawled out frame.

Everything about him screamed power.

An extra layer of embarrassment crept over when she realized she was staring. Reorienting herself to the situation, Alamea expected to be met with a fiery, annoyed gaze. Instead, he looked….he looked curious.

She frowned, and that frown deepened when she realized he was extending his hand, willing to help her get back to her feet. Her. The same person who rudely smashed into him because she was incapable of having and successfully completing one job.

Alamea felt, and probably looked, every bit of stupid just staring between him and his outstretched hand. There was definitely too long of a delay between his offer and her acceptance. Her hand in his, the other one grabbing her portfolio, he seemed to exert all of the strength needed to pull her to her feet. And, when she was entirely upright, she snatched her hand back to push back some of her hair that refused to stay in her now messy bun. It was slicked back when she left that morning, but it certainly wasn’t that way anymore. Not with all the ripping and running she’d done.

“I’m—I’m so sorry. I didn’t—” Stammering like an idiot only made her feel even more humiliated, no doubt her cheeks shaded red to match the burning within. “I–I’m sorry, Mr. Reigns.”

Paul’s correction was swift and razor-sharp. “You will acknowledge him as your Tribal Chief.”

She swallowed, nodding. And the grave kept getting deeper and deeper. “Of course, my apologies. I’m sorry, my T—”

“Abigail!” A loud, vexing voice shrieked, and if Alamea hadn’t had the displeasure of already being introduced to the woman, she would have ignored it. Having only a handful of meetings, each one had been marked by being called the wrong name, offering a respectful correction, and said correction being ignored for the wrong name. “Where the hell is she?”

“Oh no.” Alamea’s face blanked as she apologized yet again and moved in between Roman and his council, ignoring the brush of her body against his. He was built. “I’m really sorry again!” She called back once more, rushing towards an agitated Tiffany Stratton.

When Alamea learned that WWE wanted to move forward with hiring her, she was ecstatic, happier than a kid on Christmas morning who saw they got the number one item on their wishlist. She couldn't wait to tell her parents that a lifelong dream was finally becoming reality. For as long as she could remember, Alamea loved clothes, loved how they could be so personal and expressive. She especially loved costume designing, something she was first introduced to through WWE. And WWE was something she was introduced to by her brother.

It saddened her sometimes, often, that he was no longer around to see that she did it. She followed her dreams, and it worked out. But, she also knew that he was proud of her, and it was that desire to keep him proud that allowed Alamea to deal with the irate woman before her.

“Why were you with Roman?” Her tone was accusatory but also interrogative, like she was looking for something else. “How do you know him?”

“I don’t.” Alamea answered quickly, realizing Tiffany wanted an explanation. “I, umm, I accidentally ran into him.”

This answer seemed to please her, her thin lips forming into an amused smile. “Of course, you did.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Whatever, Abigail.” Alamea had long given up on trying to correct the superstar she’d been assigned to design for. One verbal lashing was more than enough for her to realize it wasn’t a dealbreaker. “Let’s go. You’ve got one more time, and I’ll make sure your ass never works in this industry again. Understand?”

Alamea nodded silently. It was no secret how heavily Tiffy was being pushed in the women’s division. A clear company favorite. Alamea had no doubt the woman could make good on her threat. Following the blonde towards her dressing room, Alamea was wholeheartedly unaware of the set of eyes that never let her from the moment of impact.

The eyes of the Tribal Chief himself, Roman Reigns.

—-------

One of the many reasons Roman kept The Wiseman around was because he was true to his name. Wise. And, reliable. Fast, too.

In under a couple hours, the Wise Man had successfully delivered the requested information to the Head of the Table.

Alamea Dixon. 25. New hire to the company in the wardrobe department. Assigned to a couple of female superstars, including Tiffany Stratton. That piece of information put a scowl on the Undisputed Champion’s face. Many of the women on the roster were irritating to him, but Tiffany was insufferable. She took any opportunity she could find to bat her eyelashes and stick fake ass, hard titties up and out in his presence. The desperation was tacky. A waste of time too.

She wasn’t his type. Too thin.

And if he was being real honest, too white. That had never been his preference. Even growing up.

But.

Alamea…she was most definitely his type.

Those big brown eyes, full lips, and the curves…she checked all three boxes: hips, ass, and tits. Roman needed someone to take to bed who actually satisfied his appetite. And, as of late, the pickings had been mid at best.

But type or no type, she was a distraction. And he couldn’t have distractions. As Head of the Table, the weight of his entire family on his shoulders, he couldn’t afford distractions. Alamea could be a sight for sore eyes but nothing more.

—------

“Ayo, I think we should get some Yeet pillows next.” Jimmy, or maybe Jey, blurted out while walking in the Bloodline locker room with two plates of food. “Maybe some beach balls as well.”

“Ohhh shit, man, yeah, that’d be sick. We could kick them around and stuff during our entrance.” The other twin, whichever one, fed into the bullshit. Some days Roman truly contemplated demanding they have their own locker room because the way they tested his patience at least once a day, usually several times within the hour, couldn’t have been good for his health.

He wished they would be more like Solo. Seen but never heard. Roman’s preference for anyone not the Wise Man.

A knock at the door pulled him away from his thoughts yet again. Jaw clenching, he miraculously stopped himself from snapping on everyone around him. How the hell was he supposed to strategize with all these damn distractions?

“Shit, that must be the wings I ordered.” Twin #1 jumped off the sofa as Roman ran his hand over his face and through his beard, a telltale sign of his growing impatience.

“Damn,” Jimmy/Jey called out from the door. “It ain’t the wings, but I’m not complaining.”

“Hi.”

Roman’s head snapped in the direction of the door. That voice. He knew it.

Alamea.

“I’m sorry to bother.” That damn girl was always apologizing for something. “But, Sheila is out sick today, and these came in for you, so I was asked to drop them off and make sure they’re what you wanted.” Sheila was the Bloodline’s personal and lead wardrobe designer. Good at what she did and didn’t make a lot of noise.

But, she was no Alamea. Not in looks, at least.

“Oh, for sure. Come in.” Roman watched her walk in behind Jimmy with a box that partially obscured his view of her pretty ass face.

He cuts his eyes at Jey, demanding, “help her.” Fucking manners were a dime a dozen these days. Jey, who was sitting, jumped up and did so, taking the box from her and placing it on the island in the kitchenette area. Alamea briefly locked eyes with Roman and offered a quiet thank you before she refocused on the twins ripping the box open like fucking children.

Meanwhile, Roman tried to not focus too much on the fact that her side profile was on full display, his eyes temporarily zoning in on the curve of her ass, a nearly perfect ��P.’

“Oh shit,” Jey cursed, lifting up one of the shirts to his frame and asking Alamea, “what you think?”

She opened her mouth and closed it. “It’s nice.”

“Be honest,” Roman instructed. She looked at him again, not for long. She was nervous. That much was painfully obvious.

“I just—” She reached out to touch the shirt. “I would have moved this further down and inverted the colors. Red on black instead of black on red. It’s too loud, and not in a good way. The font should also be less calligraphy, something more sans serif. Maybe crop this too. For you, at least. Leave it the length it is for Jimmy. Another distinction between you two.” Covering her hand over her mouth, her eyes widened as she shook her head. “But, it—it looks fine the way it is. Just—just my suggestions.”

“Naw, I love it,” Jimmy chimed and looked between him and Jey. “Shit, can you be our designer?”

Her eyes widened again in slight panic. “Oh no, I can’t—I’m Tiffany’s designer—”

“Man, fuck that bad bodied bitch. Her ass wear the same damn outfit every week. Just different colors. What she need a designer for anyway? Especially a good one.” Jey looked over at Roman, walking over to him. “Come on, uce, make it happen.”

“No, really, I—” She was cut off by her phone ringing. “Shit,” she cursed under her breath and pulled it out of her pocket. Glancing at the screen, Alamea shook her head and shared it with them. Tiffany. “See? I’ve gotta—” However, she was cut off by Roman lifting out of his seat and taking only two steps to close the distance between them. She was about to say something when he took her phone out of her hand and hit answer.

“She’s with me now.” A simple statement was all he issued before ending the call and reaching it back to her.

Alamea might have been a distraction, but she was an even bigger distraction for the twins, which would give him some relief from dealing with their antics. So, a necessary evil.

One he could absolutely learn to manage.

—-------

April, 2022

Roman was wrong. He could not, in fact, manage it.

He anticipated Alamea being some level of distraction, but he didn’t anticipate how high that level actually was.

She was always around, and that was mostly because of his irritating as shit cousins who constantly asked for her advice, input, and designs regarding all of their stupid ass ideas. On one hand, he was happy to no longer be on the receiving end of that. But, on the other, he was still in earshot and now always in close proximity with Alamea.

To be fair, she kept her distance and interactions with him to a minimum. He could tell it was partially because he intimidated her, as he did most people, but that was also just clearly her personality. She was quiet and soft-spoken, though the more she hung around the twins, the more he could see her comfort level increasing. She would crack jokes and laugh with them, matching their vibes as best she could.

Roman would never admit that there was some small part of him that liked how she got along with his family so well. The twins were annoying, but they were family, like brothers to him. And family meant everything.

“I wanna take this in a little more.”

She was tailoring a new shirt for Jimmy, and though he played off his disinterest well, Roman watched how focused and intense she looked when she was working, clearly finding passion and pride in what she did. “How’s that? Move your arm around.” Jimmy did so, freely, displaying the flexibility needed to wrestle. “Okay, yeah, that works. I’ll have it ready for you tonight.”

“Man, you are magic, Lay Lay.”

Lay Lay? Roman didn’t know why, but his cousin having a nickname for Alamea rubbed him the wrong way.

Her smile was bright, warm, bubbly. Like her personality. “Always here to help.”

Jimmy said something about craft services being ready before rushing out like a child going to see their Christmas presents on Christmas day.

That left just Roman and Alamea, the latter of whom seemed anxious to gather her supplies and head out, probably to one of the other dressing rooms. Being alone together seemed to bother her just as much as it bothered him, even if he did a much better job of not showing it.

In grabbing some of her supplies, she accidentally knocked down a portfolio, papers littered across the floor.

She cursed quietly, and he smirked. Her voice was so light and soft, profanity on her tongue just sounded amusing.

Roman moved across the room, bending down to help her out. Her head snapped up, hair framing her face. His jaw clenched. Her brown eyes, big and captivating, temporarily distracted him. Just like everything else about her.

“Thank you,” she offered, quietly. Roman said nothing, reaching her a stack of papers when his eyes landed on one in particular.

It was unfinished, clearly, but enough was completed for him to make out exactly what it was. His cousins and the Wise Man sitting around a table, Roman at the head, surrounded by money and what seemed to be a rough outline of their title belts.

He chuckled, “did you design this?”

“Y-yeah.” She added on, nervously. “I mean, it’s nothing serious. I was just messing around with different ideas to—”

“I like it,” he interjected, cutting off her rambling.

Her surprise at his words, short and simple, were visible. “Really?”

Reaching it to her, he ignored the slight brush of their hands and watched her add it to the top of the stack. “It’s good. Very good.”

She looked like he just told her that she was the reincarnation of God. Her cheeks were reddened as she pushed some of her hair behind her ear, bashful as always. “Thank you.” She gathered the rest of her materials, standing up and adding, “I planned on finishing it tonight for the twins—”

“No.” She frowned as he stood up as well, more or less towering over her. It was a matter of his massive size and her shortish stature. “That one’s mine. They can have their yeet shit.”

She giggled, and my God. It was like music to his ears. “You really don’t like that, do you?”

He rolled his eyes, answering. “It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“I feel like a lot of things don’t make sense with them,” she added, a sly smile on her face.

Roman nodded, chuckling. “Yeah, they been like that since we were kids.”

“You guys are really close.” It was more an assessment than a question. An accurate one. Even in the moments where the Usos' antics were met with glares and looks of disdain from the Tribal Chief, she could always recall the small smiles and inside jokes she’d been privy to witness between the three. “You’re protective of them.”

“Of all my family,” he corrected, “If I care about you, ain’t nothing I won’t do for you.”

Alamea didn’t know why his gaze and words stirred up unidentified emotions. She just knew that her weight shifted from one foot to another as she murmured an excuse about needing to get to the dressing room.

She also refused to think too much about how she felt his eyes on her retreating form up until the door closed.

—---------

May, 2022

Roman didn’t consider himself the jealous type, maybe in his teens, even early college days, sure. But as a grown man, it’d never been an issue.

Until then.

His first mistake was agreeing to attend his cousins’ random ass party they were throwing for no reason other than they liked to organize shit like this every so often. They claimed it was to celebrate his Mania win over Brock a few weeks prior, but he knew better.

He didn't want to go. Not really, but it’d been a while, and he’d not attended the last few, something Jimmy threw in his face when trying to convince him to show up.

Well, he had, and he was regretting it almost immediately. Everyone in attendance worked for WWE in some capacity, and several of them other wrestlers he barely liked, didn’t like, or hated. The one person he didn’t really expect, though he wasn’t sure why, to be in attendance, was the sole reason for him struggling to contain his temper at that moment.

He didn’t know how he didn’t notice her presence sooner, but when he did, he both hated and loved what he saw.

Loved because she looked fucking amazing. Her thin sleeved, burgundy dress was short and hugged every curve seamlessly, her breast more exposed than he’d seen her dress before, and he was certain it wasn't intentional. She was heavy chested, so no matter what she wore, it was always nearly impossible for him to not notice her titites. Covered or not. Her hair was straight, the first time he’d seen it like so, and fell down her back as she laughed at something Carmelo said.

That was the hate.

She was talking to Carmelo Fucking Hayes. The kid definitely fell under the hate category. Not only was he annoying, he was pretentious and annoying. Believing himself better than he actually was. And now, he was talking to Alamea.

The only thing Roman would give him is that the kid had balls. Following that situation, and the bloodied, broken scene Roman left in the wake of his rage, word quickly spread around the locker room that Alamea wasn’t to be fucked with. In any sort of capacity.

And yet this little fucker thought he was beyond Roman’s law, which was what the ‘word’ really was. If the Tribal Chief wanted something, that automatically made it law. And, he didn’t want any other man on the roster speaking to Alamea, unless it was purely professional and business related.

Roman knew for a fact wasn’t shit business related regarding the conversation happening across the room.

To be fair, he really did try to distract himself, allowing Jaida Parker, a new NXT hire, convince him why they should leave together. It was a good effort, he’d give her that, but she didn’t compare to the woman whose smile instantly made him feel better, even on the shittiest day.

And, it was when Roman saw Hayes run his thumb over Alamea’s hand that his resolve broke. He completely ignored Jaida, moving up from his seat and making his way across the club. It seemed like only a few steps were needed to bring him to his destination, Alamea’s eyes falling on him with what he could swear was a look of appreciation.

“Get lost.” Was all he said to Hayes, moving in between the two of them, fully obscuring the other man’s view of her. Good. Dipshit didn’t need to even be looking at her, let alone speaking to her.

Hayes rolled his eyes, amused. “Come on, man, we was just talking. Or, can we not speak to her either?”

“No, you can’t.” Hayes was lucky that he was even getting the benefit of only being spoken to, because anywhere else, Roman would have let his fists do the talking for him. The kid was just that irritating to him. “And if you don’t get fucking lost now, you won’t be having a match tomorrow night or any night anytime soon cause I’m gonna bash your fucking head into this bar.”

Roman felt her move behind him and looked down when he saw her hand on his forearm. His gaze flitted to her eyes, fully aware of how her touch alone immediately caused his anger to settle.

“Let’s just go.”

Roman didn’t know how or fucking why, but it only took that one statement for him to do just as she asked. He took her hand and immediately began guiding her through the crowd of people who damn near parted like the red sea to make way for him.

Alamea struggled to keep up with his pace, partially because of the long strides he took due to his height but also those heels she stupidly decided to wear. He guided them up steps, which she realized led to one of the private rooms she saw him enter when he first arrived.

For a second, she grew nervous. She was pretty sure no one else was up there.

And, she was right.

It was just the two of them.

Alone.

It was only when they were in the room that he spoke, slamming the door behind him, “hate that fuckin’ kid.”

Alamea shrugged, quietly. “He’s persistent, but he seems harmless.”

At that, Roman turned and looked at her, “has he tried to talk to you before?”

“I’ve done a couple fittings for him,” she answered, unsure why he seemed annoyed at that. “He’s asked me out.”

Judging by the fire burning in his eyes, Alamea realized she could have left that last part out. “And what the hell did you tell him?”

She was unsure where this was coming from, maybe exhaustion from feeling confused by Roman’s mixed signals over the past few two months. How he'd flop back and forth between talking to her and the pretending like she didn't exist. “Why do you care?”

He was surprised by her counter. “I care, because I made it clear that none of these fuckers were to talk to you, and if Hayes is defying my orders, then that’s a problem I need to handle.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” she defended. Alamea may not have been interested in Hayes in that way, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to be subjected to Roman’s anger. No one needed that. “He’s pushy but respectful. Nothing like….like Theory.” Her voice went soft, not wanting to revisit that dark memory. She shook her head. “I appreciate your help, but you can’t dictate who I can and can’t talk to.”

“Do you like him?” She was unsure whether it was her pushing back against him or something else, but his anger seemed to only be intensifying. It was controlled, as much as Roman Reigns could control himself. But, it was definitely there.

“No.” The answer was easy. Carmelo may have been decent, but he didn’t spark her interest, didn’t make her stomach do all sorts of flips at the sound of his voice, didn't command her attention with just his presence. No…..no, that would be someone else. “Would you care if I did?”

“You could do better than him.” Was his safe answer, though it was an answer that didn’t match his actions. Because he was moving in her direction at the same time she was moving back. “You deserve better than him.”

Alamea wasn’t sure why she was backing away when she only wanted to move closer, to have his body up against hers. “Yeah?” Her voice was light, and she gasped quietly when her ass hit the door, leaving her nowhere else to go as Roman closed in. She licked her lips when he was directly in front of her, one hand braced against the door, the other on her hip. “Like who?”

“Jesus Christ….”

Alamea couldn’t deny that she’s imagined what it would be like to kiss Roman Reigns. She wasn’t blind. No one could deny how damn attractive this man is, his aura, his demeanor, that strong body that emanated power and authority. Everything about him was so appealing to her, but it wasn't until that moment she realized how good it would be to kiss Roman.

He kissed like he did everything else in life, with intention and purpose. His mouth was hungry and ravenous for her, and when she moved her hands to his rock hard abs, it was like that ignited something in him. He groaned into their kiss and moved his hands to the back of her thighs, hiking her up on his waist.

She gasped, not once breaking their kiss, even as he brought them to the sofa and fell back. She was straddling him, his hands moving all over her body, squeezing her ass. She moaned in his mouth as he broke their kiss and lowered his mouth to her neck.

“Roman…” She gasped as he sucked on her neck, somehow finding that spot that had her vision blurring. Her nails dug into his shoulders when he kneaded her breast with his big hands, before moving one hand under her dress to squeeze her ass, which had her moaning again but also realizing they were moving fast. Too fast.

For this setting, at least.

She breathed, managing a pained. “W–wait.”

He acquiesced, but there was a hint of irritation in his lustful gaze. "What?"

She licked her swollen lips. This was it. This was her moment to back away, to remember all the warnings she'd been given when she first started this job. To draw the line in the sand and set boundaries. To make him explain what was with all the hot and cold days. To get some answers.

But, right there, in that moment, she didn't want any of that. Didn't really care about any of that.

She just wanted him, and judging by the growing erection she could feel pressed against her wet panties, he felt the same.

And, she wasn't about to miss out on this once in a lifetime opportunity.

“Let’s get out of here.”

—------

June, 2022

It’d become a routine really.

A few times a week, sometimes every night during particularly stressful weeks, Alamea would find Roman standing outside her hotel room. Few, if any, words were exchanged before he had her up on the bathroom counter, the table in the middle of the room, or laid out on the bed, his head buried between her legs. It seemed to be his favorite way to start.

And, then he fucked her. Thoroughly. Like most things he did.

Always to her pleasure though.

Alamea would struggle to explain to anyone just how this arrangement started. How a one night stand turned into that. Partially because she herself was still struggling to understand it. It wasn’t romantic, no matter how much she may have wished it was, or tried to convince herself otherwise. It was an itch that she seemed to be able to scratch for some reason. Pleasurable for both of them with low (no) commitment. He got his. She got hers. He left.

That….that was the part she always struggled with the most.

She knew deep down she wasn’t made for such an arrangement. She felt too deeply, cared too much, all for a man who’d only ever seemed interested in using her body to relieve some stress. But, it was that same stress she felt that made her want more. She knew he’d never admit it, but Roman always came to her with a weight he didn’t outwardly show. Not really, anyway. She’d heard him refer to the weight he carried, but no one really ever really saw that weight.

Except for her.

He had small telltale signs. Like the way he sat with his chin in his hand, focused on nothing before him, deep in thought. Or how he sometimes slapped the wall of the locker room after a match or a promo that didn’t go well. Running his hand over his face and through his beard.

She knew it was unhealthy, knew that the longer it went on, the longer her unrequited feelings would grow. There was only one outcome, and it wasn’t in her favor. He’d be fine. He’d have lost nothing. She’d be the one left devastated and heartbroken.

And in spite of it all, she still allowed him into her room damn near every night. Inside of her.

She tried to convince herself it was because the sex was too damn good to give up, and that wasn’t a lie. He may have been only one of six people she’d ever been with, but he easily shot to the top of that already short list. Roman was a quick learner, easily picking up on what she liked, what made her scream, the things that made her beg for him not to stop. It was an ego stroke for him, of that, she was sure. But, it was also so damn good for her, too.

It was hard to give up something that felt good in the moment. Even if the crash and burn would be one for epic proportions.

Still, Alamea did her best to fight her feelings, to minimize them from growing more than they already had. And for a minute, a very brief, short minute, she thought that she was getting better. She didn’t wake up in the middle of the night and feel a pang in her chest when seeing she was alone yet again. Didn’t feel hurt when he barely said more than a few words to her during the day. She knew that was just how it was.

And, then it happened.

She woke up at some ungodly hour, something she’d done since a girl. A random waking before succumbing back to slumber. Alamea made an incoherent sound and went to turn over when she felt it.

The muscled arm wrapped securely around her, holding her still and close to the equally muscular chest. For a brief second, she panicked, because there was no way in hell Roman was sleeping beside her. She’d be more likely to have a random intruder than the Head of the Table in her bed for something other than sex.

But, in managing to angle her body so she was on her back, Alamea saw that hell hath frozen over. Roman was sleeping, a peaceful expression upon his handsome face.

What….the….fuck?

She was panicking, clearly, because why? Never, ever had this man spent the night with her. He’d stick around for a little bit, but never longer than what was necessary. And now, he was just…sleeping.

When the surprise settled, she took in the moment, took in how relaxed he appeared, how at peace he was. No pressure from the family, from the fans, from himself. Just…peaceful.

And with her.

Peace with her.

She chewed on her bottom lip and found herself reaching to push the hair from out of his face. But, she stopped, caught it, scolding herself for risking waking him up, risking ruining this moment. Because that’s all it was. A single moment. It wasn’t indicative of anything other than someone who decided to just camp out instead of going back to his own room.

That painful but necessary reminder allowed her to turn back on her side without disturbing him, as she fell back into a sleep that allowed her to escape her disappointing reality.

But.

But, if she’d remained awake just a few seconds longer, she’d have felt the tug of her body into his chest and lips graze her temple.

—----------

July, 2022

“Does he eat pussy?”

“Mom!”

“What?” She sucked her teeth. “I’m making sure, because I did not raise you girls to be with selfish lovers. If he ain’t reciprocating, don’t be giving.”

“Of course, he does,” Paris handled that answer, but not without offering her own. “The better question is if he uses Viagra?”

“Don’t be silly, girl.” Alamea’s mother, Taylor, dismissed. “He’s not your daddy.”

London was the first to protest that time. “Mama!”

“Why are we even talking about this?” Alamea groaned, going to rub her temples but remembering the cucumber face mask working its magic on her skin. “I just wanted this to be a nice little moment.”

“He’s not little, is he?”

“Mama, please.” Alamea released another groan, throwing her body back against the temple.

“Ain’t he like 6 something? That would be wild if he is.” London shook her head, her image on Alamea’s iPad partially distorted from the poor signal. “But, also….”

“I am going to hang up on all of you.”

A mouth full of popcorn didn’t stop Paris from protesting. “You better not!”

She was very much tempted to, but she didn’t, because as unhinged Alamea's family could be, she loved them deeply. Missed home and being away from them as long as she had. Missed these almost traditional type of monthly meeting they would have. When she still lived back in Virginia, once a month, they’d bounce around at everyone’s place, though usually the family home for the sake of space, and gather together with food, skincare, and a show they all shared the same love for.

Usually Martin or One Tree Hill.

It was something they’d done for years, and Alamea being on the road all the time wasn’t enough to stop it. Hence why she had her sisters and mom on a group FaceTime while season 3, episode 1 of One Tree Hill played on her TV and the TV’s of her family.

“We just want to know, baby,” came Taylor’s voice. Alamea sighed once more. Of course, they did.

When people referenced that famous “I’m a cool mom” line from Mean Girls, they were actually talking about Taylor Dixon. For as far back as Alamea could remember, her mom was always an open book, willing and ready to talk about anything.

She had a relaxed, non-judgmental outlook on any and all things. She was also….eccentric in her methods. Giving her girls “the talk” using Alamea’s MyScene dolls probably a bit sooner than her youngest child really needed to know such things.

The minute Alamea hit an age that ended with ‘teen,’ Taylor was stressing that as soon as Alamea started to think about sex, let her know, and they could get her started on birth control. Not to mention the bowl of condoms she kept conveniently located on the fireplace mantle.

Hell, when Alamea lost her virginity, a group call with her sisters and mom was one of the first things she did. A given considering how….anticlimactic it was.

In a lot of ways, Taylor felt more like the biggest sister of the group but still managed to fulfill all the maternal needs of a mother.

So, when Alamea said her mom was one of her best friends, she meant that shit.

Except right now, because all of the invasive ass questions about her sex life were the last thing she expected this call to entail.

It was also the last thing she needed, really, because lately, Alamea found herself thinking of Roman in different ways. Thinking of them in different ways. Imagining what it would be like if it was more than just sex.

If they could ever be more.

A dangerous line of thinking, for sure.

“Alamea….” Taylor’s voice shifting to something serious captured the attention of all of her girls. There was always something important to be said when their mom slipped from her usual carefree disposition. “I just want you to be careful.”

“We are, mama,” she murmured. For the most part.

There were definitely some moments where the pull out method was utilized, but for the most part, a condom was always used when they fucked.

Taylor shook her head as Alamea looked at her through the screen. “I don’t mean like that.” She frowned, taking a deep breath. “I mean with your heart.” Alamea stilled, moving to hit pause on the TV and judging by the silence on Paris and London’s ends, they had, too. “Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s great you’re embracing your sexuality and enjoying a good, fun sex life, but you’re also my child, and I know you. I know that you care and feel deeply, and I just….I just want to make sure you’re not catching feelings in a situation where, based upon what you’ve told us, that’s not what he’s looking for.”

Alamea remained quiet, hating how her mom always knew just what to say and when to say it. Even if she didn’t necessarily want to hear it. Even if it’s probably what she needed to hear.

“Mama’s right,” Paris sounded, expression sympathetic. “He’s also, what? Almost 40? If he hasn’t settled down by now with anyone, it’s…it’s not likely to be you, Alamea.” Hard words to hear but presented almost gently, her oldest sister clearly trying her best to be empathetic. “It’s a fun fling. Enjoy it while you can, but protect your heart.”

Alamea looked at the faces of her closest confidants, doing her best to let their words marinate and create a form of defense for just that. Feelings. But, it was hard to do so when she was certain that feelings had already started to grow, even if, as they all pointed out, it was stupid to do so.

Roman wasn’t that type. The type to ever date her or want anything more than just the ‘kinda friends but not really with definite benefits’ arrangement they had. She was better served, as they suggested, enjoying the time for what it was.

Not what it could never be.

—----------

July, 2022

It happened again.

But, different this time. Whether for better or worse…that remained to be seen.

She fell asleep with him beside her and woke up in the middle of the night with him still in bed with her. This time though, she’d found herself up against him, her arm around his body and her head on his chest. Alamea didn’t know what to make of that, especially when she realized he was still awake, his hand making soft, shapeless movements on the small of her back.

She closed her eyes to go back to sleep, refusing to ruin anything about the moment, wanting to capture it in a bottle and hold onto it forever.

“Tell me something about you.”

She didn’t expect him to stay, didn’t expect him to be holding her like he was, and she definitely didn’t expect this man to want to pillow talk with her.

And yet….

“I—” She wasn’t sure what to say, not really knowing what he was specifically looking for. “I have two living siblings. They’re older than me.”

“You’re the baby….” He said it like it made everything make sense. “Are they quiet like you?”

She laughed. “Not at all.” She adjusted her body, moving closer to him. He tugged her closer, too. “My middle sister, London, she’s always been relatively carefree. Likes to joke around a lot. Imagine a much tamer version of the twins.”

He chuckled. “Definitely not like you then.”

“And my oldest sister, Paris—”

“Your sisters' names are London and Paris?” The disbelief in his voice along with the fact that she could literally imagine the scowl on his face only made it that much better.

“My mother always wanted to name her kids after places she’s always wanted to visit.”

“And your dad agreed to that?” Rolling her eyes, she flicked the side of his chest.

“Shut up.” Another low chuckle, as she continued. “Anyway, Paris is the opposite. She’s….a bit of a control freak, sometimes. But, she means well.”

“Hmm.” He said nothing, and then asked, almost tentatively. “You said living….”

Alamea quieted. It’d been a while since she’d spoken about that. She didn’t really like talking about it, but something about it, about him, made her feel like she could. “Dallas,” she whispered. “He…umm…he passed away when I was in high school.”

That’s it. Nothing else. She wasn’t sure what there was to say after something like that.

“My sister passed away when I was away at college.”

She stilled against him, unsure of what to say, how to respond, what would be potentially helpful or even comforting to him in that moment. Even though, deep down, she knew firsthand there was nothing to say or do to comfort that kind of loss. It was something always just….there.

“I’m sorry,” was the response she settled on. Quiet and empathetic. Not sympathetic, not that overt contrition that people typically offered that made things somehow worse. She wouldn’t offend him with that.

He didn’t say anything after that.

Neither did she.

—-------

November, 2022

Oh hot damn, this is my jam

Keep me partying 'til the AM

Y'all don't understand, make me throw my hands

In the ayer, ay-ayer, ayer, ay-ayer

Eyes closed, body swaying, Alamea was in the zone. Completely wasted, only aware of the fact that she was in Roman’s nice, big ass hotel room, dancing on the table to one of her favorite party songs.

Actually, everything that played so far was her favorite song. Cyclone. Low. Birthday Song. Freak Hoe (Speaker Knockerz). Real Sisters.

Jimmy was a good ass DJ.

It was her, Naomi, Jey, Jimmy, Sami, and, of course, Roman. Solo and Paul had dipped a while ago. When, she wasn’t sure, she just knew she hadn’t seen them for a minute. Except, the Tribal Chief remained the only sober one, clearly and visibly annoyed with the hot ass, drunken mess the majority of his Bloodline were at that moment.

He’d known the minute the twins suggested they celebrate the Bloodline’s War Games win that it was going to be some mess, and he was right.

Some mess, it certainly was.

“Aye, aye, aye,” Jey slurred, stumbling over to the table where Alamea continued to dance despite the song fading to an end. “This the life, ain’t it? Shit, we should do this every night!”

The group cheered, as Roman sighed heavily.

Over his dead body.

A new song played, another one he recognized but gave no other indication as he watched their drunk asses overreact.

“This is my song!” Naomi shouted, moving over and climbing onto the table with Alamea.

(Yeah) Party like a rock, party like a rockstar

(Y-y-yeah) Party like a rock, party like a rockstar

(Y-y-yeah) Party like a rockstar, t-t-totally, dude

The women sang along as Jimmy and Jey headbanged, Naomi somehow not wasting or spilling the drinks in her hand. And, Sami….Roman had no idea what the fuck Sami was doing. Moving erratically, dancing, in his own sort of way. He looked like he was having complications from an exorcism or some shit.

They were all a hot fucking mess.

Alamea’s eyes opened as she landed on Roman who sat quiet and partially irritated, prompting her to giggle to herself. Holding onto a dancing Naomi’s shoulder, she made her way off the table and stumbled over to him.

She frowned, looking at her empty hand, wondering where her red solo cup had gone.

“I took it,” he answered, forcing her gaze back on him. “You’ve had enough.”

At that, she pouted, “you’re no fun.” He said nothing as she moved closer, standing in front of him, pulling down her dress that just kept sliding up, her ass too much to keep it where it needed to be.

“What are you doing?” His voice sounded strained, but she ignored it, starting to dance in front of him. But, it was short-lived, because it was like she suddenly remembered there was another attendee other than himself and his family.

“Friend!” She shouted, way too excitedly, stumbling over to Sami, starting to dance with him.

On him.

Roman’s jaw clenched.

Alamea was having the time of her drunken life, dancing with her new bestest friend in the whole world, Stan.

Wait, no. That wasn’t his name.

Fuck.

What was it?

Shmuel?

Yeah, that!

“BFF’s,” she said, attempting to imitate the handshake he did with the twins.

“Come here.” Came the deep voice of Roman who’d stood up, marching over to grab a hold of her. Naturally, she swayed and leaned into his hard body as he escorted her right back over to where he was sitting on the sofa.

On his lap.

A drunken smile fell on her pretty face. “Right here?” He looked down at her as she grasped at his shirt. “In front of e–everyone?” She shifted atop his lap, gasping at the feel of him slightly hard underneath her. “Oops.”

His jaw clenched once more, but for a different reason.

Except, the song changing again served as a maybe necessary distraction. Not the best though.

“I love this song!” She shouted, repositioning herself so that she was sitting forward on his lap, wiggling, feeling his bulge press against her partially exposed center as her skimpy dress rose up yet again over thick thighs and ass.

You wanna see some ass?

I wanna see sum cash

Keep dem dollars comin

And das gonna make me dance

Alamea danced on top of Roman, twerking her ass all up and on him as Naomi did something similar to Jimmy who mimicked the motion of backshots. Jey and Sami stood to the side, throwing up cash bills, donning sunglasses that Roman hadn’t the slightest clue where they’d gotten them.

But, while Alamea was having the time of her life, along with seemingly majority of the party, Roman was clearly not.

“Enough of this shit,” he hissed, reaching for the remote to turn off the music.

“Hey!” She protested, frowning, eyes blinking. “I–I–I was listening to t–that.”

“Party’s over,” he announced, uncaring. His gaze fell over to his cousins, Naomi, and Sami. “All ya’ll drunk asses need to go back to your rooms.”

Sounds of protest from attendees, Jey hiccuping as he swayed and fell onto the sofa. “Man, I ain’t even that—that drunk, uce.”

Naomi pointed to Sami. “What h–he said!”

Sami’s eyes widened, asking no one but himself, “what did I say?”

Roman shut his eyes, reaching for his phone and sending a text for the Wise Man to come over. Never mind it was 3am, he wasn’t about to deal with this shit.

And, he didn’t.

Less than ten minutes later, Paul was present, escorting the inebriated parties back to their rooms, all of which were conveniently located just a few doors down from Roman. But, still, given how wasted they all were, he wouldn’t trust them to walk in a straight line, let alone to the right hotel room.

Paul had just finished with Jey, who'd he heard saying something about getting Waffle House, when the Wise Man went for Alamea who continued to dance, listening to some song through her phone.

But, Roman stopped him.

“I’ll take care of her,” was all he said, and it was all that was needed.

Paul left the Tribal Chief alone.

A few minutes later, Alamea became aware that it was really just herself and Roman. “Well,” she elongated the ‘l’ and started to look around, as if searching for something. Her purse, most likely. “I–I guess I—should get g–going.” Shrugging, she attempted to walk past him, of course, stumbling seconds later.

Roman caught her, looking down at her. Naturally, his eyes set on her titties, sitting nice and perfect in that little dress of hers. “Naw.” She looked up, warm brown eyes wide and full lips formed into a pout. “You’ll stay with me tonight, baby girl.”

Alamea blinked, hating and not understanding why her stomach fluttered at that. At the nickname.

It’s not like it was the first time he’d called her something other than her government, so what was different?

“I—I don’t—” She stopped, falling and leaning into his chest. Her eyes shut. She was suddenly so tired, and he just felt so good.

He did nothing, just standing there holding her as the music continued to play from the phone in her hand.

Got me lost, got me hooked, now I'm so confused

Was this a part of your plan?

I don't really understand what to do

What to do with a boy like you?

They remained that way for a few minutes before Roman finally lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. He sat her on the counter, opting to only wash her face, removing makeup for her. He’d have helped her shower, if not for the fact he was certain she’d probably pass out before he could finish.

So, he skipped that, helping her out of her dress and into one of his shirts. Alamea became slightly more cognizant when he carried her once more into the bedroom, laying her down, pulling the covers over her, making sure she was good before leaving her alone.

She wasn’t exactly sure where he went, but her guess would be to clean up some of the mess they’d made.

However, that was the least of her concerns, because her drunken haze wasn’t enough to stop her from thinking about his actions. How he….how took care of her. Like….like he cared.

Music no longer playing, Roman having stopped it, leaving her phone on the nightstand, the lack of Kesha’s voice didn’t stop the lyrics from playing on repeat in Alamea’s head.

Got me lost, got me hooked, now I'm so confused

A song and lyrics she’d heard a million times over before, they’d never felt or rang more true than in that moment.

—------

December, 2022

The last thing Alamea expected or needed was Roman Reigns waiting for her in her hotel room.

But, that was exactly what she got.

Ever since that night of their impromptu party, that something had shifted between them. She didn't know what, just that he’d reverted back to his old ways of mostly ignoring her during the days. He was still outside of her door more often than not, but he didn’t stay anymore. Sometimes leaving as soon as they were done.

It was….confusing, to say the least. Hurtful as hell, to say the most.

Blowing out a breath, she bumped the door shut with her hip and locked it. “Not tonight,” she murmured. She couldn’t tonight.

Physically and emotionally.

“Where the hell have you been?”

She just looked over at him. It was obvious he was pissed, and any other time, she’d be nervous by his tone and expression. But, not tonight. Just….not tonight.

Alamea stepped out of her heels and threw her purse to the side, finally answering, “out.”

She realized she’d yet to maintain eye contact with him, a partially intentional act on her part. But, trying to move past Roman Reigns without answering a question posed to you was never a good idea.

He shot up off the bed and blocked her path, a solid wall of prevention. “You’re drunk,” he assessed, eyes going over her from head to toe. He looked displeased. Oh fucking well.

“I had a drink or two. I’m not drunk,” she argued, feeling a sense of defensiveness that clearly came from the alcohol in her system. “Now, can you please move? I’m tired, and I can’t do this with you tonight.”

“Do what?” He sounded both annoyed and confused, the latter of two just pissing her off.

“Roman, please.” She ran her hand over her hair and closed her eyes. “It’s been a rough day. I just want to go to bed.”

He looked down at her, a line of fire flashing in his eyes. “Were you with someone?”

At that, her head snapped up. Irritation covered her face, moving its way up her body. The absolute audacity for him to not only ask her that but to seem annoyed?

The alcohol had her emboldened but not stupid. She murmured, “you’re impossible.” Foolishly, she tried to move past him again, only for him to lift his arm, barring her. “Ro–”

“I’m not going to ask you again, Alamea.” She closed her eyes. “Were you—”

“Fine!” She snapped. If her volume or outburst surprised him, he did an excellent job not showing it. “You want to fuck me? Fine! Fuck me!” She pushed him away and marched over to the bed, starting to remove her earrings. “How do you want me, huh? On my back? On my knees? What will it be tonight?”

Roman turned towards her, looking less angry and more confused. That only made her more upset. “What the hell are you doing?”

“This is what you wanted, right?” She continued, using the hair tie on her wrist to put her hair up. “This is all you ever want.”

It was that statement that caused the anger to completely slide away as Roman realized what was happening. “Ally—”

“Come on!” She reached back, probably for the zipper of her dress. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To get your itch scratched, so let’s get to it.”

“Would you shut up?” His tone was softer, volume lower. He stepped toward her, reaching to lower her arms. “Stop it.”

“Why?” She snapped once more, trying to tug her arms out of his reach. “You need to get what you came here for, right? Why else would you bother with me if not to get your dick wet?” Roman didn’t show it, but it was off for him seeing and hearing that from her. Alamea was a lot of things, but drunk, angry, and incoherent would never be any terms he’d use to describe her. Maybe omit the latter of the terms, she may have been drunk and angry, but he was following her just fine. “So, do it. Fuck me. Fuck me and leave like you always do.”

It was the way her voice cracked at the word ‘always’ that did something to him, made him pissed all over again.

He fucking hated seeing her cry.

“What are you waiting for?” She was beating on his chest, the tears flowing freely. “Just do it.” She sobbed. “Just leave me.”

“C’mere,” he whispered, moving his hand to the back of her neck. “Look at me.” His tone was soothing, free hand moving to her waist, holding her. He waited until she settled her eyes on him. “You wanna know why I leave?” Alamea didn’t say anything, just nodded quietly, her tears still reflecting, taunting him. He shut his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. “I can’t function when I’m with you.”

Alamea wasn’t sure what she expected him to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. And she definitely didn’t expect him to continue. “All I fucking think about is you. Your smile. Your scent. Your taste. I’m with you, and all I want to do is stay because everything is simple with you. No pressure. No weight. It’s just me and you.”

And it was true, every fucking word that he never thought he could find in him to verbalize. But, he was a selfish bastard, too selfish to realize that letting her go was exactly what he should have done.

But, as true as all of that was, he could never and would never say that to her face. Not when she was sober. No, he could only say it then, because she was drunk, and he’d seen Alamea drunk. Knew good and well her memory of the night prior would be all but non-existent.

It was a confession that wouldn’t hold or stand, because she wouldn’t remember it come tomorrow.

Roman wiped at her tears, and she clutched onto his shirt. She didn’t know how to even begin to process what he was saying, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol in her system.

“I told you before, Alamea, I’m not a good man.” His voice grew soft, and she could have sworn she saw his eyes gloss over. “I can’t give you what you want. I can’t be what you deserve.”

It was when he attempted to pull away that Alamea broke from her haze of surprise. She released the knot of his shirt in her hand and slowly moved her hand up his chest, resting it over his heart. “This….” Her smile faltered, battling with the defeated frown that was impatiently waiting its turn. “This is all I want.”

He said nothing, and neither did she. Not after that. Both silent for different reasons. Alamea because she wasn’t sure how they were to move forward from this, what happened after tonight.

And, for Roman, it was less confusion regarding what happened next and more the fact that Alamea was desiring something she already had.

—-----

2023

In 2023, Roman modified his schedule. He wasn’t part time, per se, but he certainly wasn’t full time like he used to be. He stopped attending every show, his appearances being something more of a surprise than anything.

That also meant his dynamic with Alamea changed. If he wasn’t at work, that meant that she didn’t see him as much, that their arrangement shifted from something consistent and frequent to the polar opposite.

It was an…adjustment for her, for sure.

Beneficial in a lot of ways, as it freed up some of her time, allowing to work with and design for other superstars. But, it also left a sort of void that she couldn’t allow herself to think too much about. Too difficult.

What she couldn’t ignore though was the slow and gradual implosion. Tension. Ego. And many other things that started to infiltrate her work family. As great as Alamea viewed Roman, she could acknowledge that he could be….a lot.

In not the best ways.

Ways that were starting to directly impact his Bloodline.

It started with Sami. His loyalty to the Bloodline waning and completely gone with a single chair to Roman’s back. An already sensitive topic and area for The Tribal Chief. That seemed to mark the beginning of the end of it all, because before she knew it, not only was Sami gone, but so was Jey.

That was especially hard for her. Over the past year plus, she’d grown so close to all the members. Especially the twins. They were like her brothers, and for someone who’d already lost her only real brother, it was like reopening a wound that never fully healed in the first place.

She knew it was hard for Roman, too. Not that he’d admit it. He’d hint at it during pillow talk, but a full, honest acknowledgement of how he’d unintentionally caused the dissolution was something she knew that she’d never hear.

Even if it was true.

He still had Solo. Still had Jimmy.

Still had her, and for him, that seemed to be enough.

If only she felt the same.

But, again, Roman being gone for what felt like the majority of the time helped in other ways. She focused more on work and started thinking more about her future outside of WWE. While she loved designing gear for the superstars, she found herself thinking more and more about the long-term. If she could see her doing it for the rest of her life. If she would be satisfied. She wasn’t sure.

She did know, however, that the idea of trying to launch her own clothing brand seemed more than appealing. Maybe opening up a small boutique back home was looking more and more like a possibility and reality. Because being on the road was fun sometimes, but she often found herself missing home more and more. She missed being around her family.

So, maybe a couple more years, and she’d venture back home, establishing roots there.

Maybe start to lean into the idea of settling down. It was something she knew she always wanted. A husband and family, but it was never a big priority. She wanted to establish and be comfortable in her career first. And, she had. Being the Bloodline’s lead designer along with other close friendships with the other superstars had given her a decent sized online following.

That could definitely be helpful when it came time, maybe, for her to establish her brand.

But, thinking of her future also meant figuring out her present. And, Alamea was starting to see that while she definitely missed Roman when he wasn’t around, it wasn’t….it wasn’t unbearable. She was happy to see him when he came around, but she was also learning how to navigate a life around him.

Without him.

And, maybe, just maybe, that could be a thing she could learn to make a reality.

She tried, at least, downloading a few dating apps. It felt silly though. At 26, using apps to find potential romantic interests seemed like an almost embarrassing thing. It also didn’t work out very well given her insane travel schedule. Still, it was nice to have men to talk to.

Even…even Carmleo was nice to talk to from time to time.

If only Roman could function with that last part and not act a goddamn fool afterwards.

He’d shown up one show for an unadvertised appearance, saw her talking to Melo backstage, and fucked her completely into that damn mattress later that night.

It felt less like a care thing, and more Roman being possessive. Whatever that meant, because Alamea didn’t know a lot, but one thing she did know was that she was not his. Not in any meaningful way. They fucked, and that was it.

Right?

—----------

2024

He never said goodbye.

Not necessarily in between his sporadic appearances. Where he would show up to work in the morning, do his thing in the evening, appear outside her door at night, and be gone the following morning. At some point, when him leaving right after the deed was done transitioned into him staying longer, holding her, pillow talk, staying the night, he’d mention it. Tell her that he’d be on the jet back home in the morning.

And, he’d do just as he stated, being gone by the time she woke up the following morning ready to travel to their next stop.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

So, it wasn’t that goodbye she didn’t get.

It was the one following Mania.

His loss at Mania.

He’d only spoken to the Wise Man, given a few orders, and he’d boarded that jet with not as much as a single look at her. No text. No call.

Nothing.

And, it’d been that way for four long months. Four months filled with nothing but stress and anxiety. Roman’s fall at WrestleMania left the Bloodline in shambles, all but extinct. It was already on the brink of collapse, what with the turbulent exits of Sami and Jey, but it seemed Roman losing to Cody truly cemented that.

He’d failed, according to Solo, and failure, as deemed by Roman himself, was always unacceptable.

Roman was labeled a disgrace and therefore unfit to lead the Bloodline. New leadership was needed, according to Solo, who also felt that he was the right person to do so.

Alamea didn’t agree, but at the end of the day, her opinion didn’t matter. She was just there.

Solo ousted Jimmy, the last piece of what used to be her normal. Brought on new, distant, dangerous family members. It started with Tama, who’d never not made her feel uncomfortable. Then Tonga. He was less erratic as his brother but equally unhinged, just in a subtle way.

And then there was Jacob.

He was just fucking terrifying.

Everything that was happening felt frightening. Alamea partially expected Solo to also kick her out. She was hoping for that, but instead, he made her stay. Kept her close. Forced her to watch as he and the new Bloodline wreaked havoc. And, it wasn’t that the OG Bloodline wasn’t equally volatile, but there was always a method to the madness. Roman was methodical and strategic.

Solo just felt like a little boy stomping his feet trying to prove that he was old enough and ready to sit at the big kids’ table.

At the head of the table.

Week by week, it seemed to go from bad to worse. The only thing that helped was Paul. That he too shared her horror at what was being done. The massive undone of all of Roman’s hard work. The erasure of him. The disrespect of his legacy, but for all the poking and prodding that bear, the bear…never came.

Roman never showed up.

Never replied to any of Paul’s texts and calls, something she inquired about every damn day.

Never replied to any of her calls and texts.

He’d completely abandoned them.

Abandoned her.

And, he never even said fucking goodbye.

—-------

August, 2024

Alamea always had a bad feeling about Summer Slam. A small part of her was hoping that it would be Roman’s return, despite four months of no contact. But, that hope went right out the window when the new Bloodline finally turned on Paul and landed him in the hospital and out on indefinite leave.

Because if that couldn’t drag Roman out of hiding, what could?

And, it only worsened when she was told the day that they wanted her out, ringside.

She’d paled.

They’d never asked that before, and despite offering no clarification or direction, she knew exactly why.

They wanted her to interfere and help Solo win the match.

Win the Undisputed Title from Cody Rhodes.

Roman’s title.

And, in the strangest of ways, it was right then and there when she realized what they were asking—telling—of her, she knew what she had to do.

There was interference. As expected. New or OG, if there was one thing the Bloodline would always do, it was make sure whatever man or men was/were in the ring would come out on top.

It was a common, shared understanding thing.

Not for Alamea.

Four months of being and feeling helpless bled over into a newfound, insurmountable amount of indignation and defiance. Tama and Tonga were out of the picture, somewhere battling it out with Kevin Owens and Randy Orton, who’d come out to even the odds.

Jacob was down and injured, his leg fucked up, but that didn’t stop him from yelling at her.

“Distract his ass!”

He was referring to the referee, and the moment was perfect. Solo had the upper hand and was clearly wearing Rhodes down. All she had to do was capture and sustain his attention last enough for Solo to get in a cheap, illegal shot and do it. Secure the win.

Standing on the sidelines, the roar of the audience, the chill of the Cleveland air, the rapid beating of her heart, it was all so much.

“Ally!” Solo leaned over the rope, body sweaty and exerted. She winced. Only Roman had called her that. It felt wrong coming from Solo’s mouth. “Get me that damn chair!”

He was pointing to the ready, open, available chair only a couple feet away from a grounded Jacob.

She looked at the chair, looked at Jacob, looked at Solo, and with every single piece of frustration that had been building up over the four months, she said without a single stutter.

“Go to hell, Solo.”

Those in close enough vicinity expressed sounds of shock. Jacob was spazzing, but when was he not?

Solo, however, he was enraged.

She tried to move, tried to run, but he was too fast. It seemed like it only took a matter of seconds for him to move out the ring, grabbing and dragging her by her hair into the ring.

“No!” She’d shouted, trying to fight against him, but was no good. “Let me go!”

“You ungrateful bitch!” He’d yanked her head back, yelling and screaming in her face, spit flying. “I would have given you everything! I’m your Tribal Chief!”

The hell you are.

She would and was preparing to say as such, but the moment was taken from her the minute Cody came from behind, grabbing Solo, effectively separating them. Knocked off her feet, she stumbled into the corner, watching Rhodes do his signature Cross Rhodes move.

To this day, she’s still uncertain if it was to save her or take advantage of a distracted opponent.

But, it was a short-lived upper-hand, because less than a minute later, Cody was back on his ass and Solo was on his feet, moving towards her. And, once more, she was on her feet, his hand tightly gripping her hair, but this time, a different position. One arm extended and holding her out, the other also extended, thumb protruding, Alamea knew all too well what was going to happen next.

But, it didn’t.

It didn’t because the sound of rhythmic drums and flashing blue lights broke everything. The momentum. The moment. The fucking atmosphere.

For the first time in months, Solo and Alamea shared something. The wide eyed look of disbelief on both of their faces as the crowd all moved to their feet, screaming and shouting in anticipation for what so many—Alamea and Solo included—believed impossible.

But, then she saw it.

She saw him, and he looked livid.

Alamea cried out in pain when Solo roughly shoved her into the post, pain shooting through her shoulder. On the mat, she held onto her arm, the burning intensifying, face scrunched up in pain.

She wasn’t looking, too consumed in her discomfort and the shock of it all to see it was at seeing her reaction—the pain on her face—that made Roman waste no time getting into the ring.

And, at the same time he unleashed months worth of pent-up rage onto his younger cousin, the ref helped her out of the ring, another referee meeting them and escorting her to the back.

One look over her shoulder, however, would find Roman looking directly at her.

—---------

Alamea would love to say that that was it. That him randomly showing up after months of being MIA and straight up ignoring her was it. The straw that broke the camel’s back. That despite him showing up and essentially saving her, it didn’t make a difference.

That she was finally done after that.

But, she can’t.

She can’t because that would be a lie.

Did she give him an earful when he, of course, showed up later that night outside her hotel room, as always?

Sure.

Never mind the fact that the first thing he did was welcome himself inside of said room, immediately and gently reaching for her arm, inspecting her shoulder, asking, “you alright?”

No. No, she was not alright.

“I’m fine.”

A lie. A fucking lie.

“What the hell, Roman?” She yelled, pacing across the hotel room as he sat silent on the edge of the bed. “Paul and I were texting and calling you for months with no response, and then you just show up tonight like everything is fine?”

His gaze remained focused on the floor, his voice even and calm. She hated it. “Nothing is fine, Ally.”

“No shit,” she scoffed, shaking her head, rubbing her temples. “Roman….you abandoned us.”

You abandoned me.

Had she been looking at him, she’d seen his jaw tick at that. At the word abandoned. “I needed to clear my head, Alamea.”

“So, say that,” she snapped, finally stopping to look and focus on him, regardless of his lack of eye-contact. “Communicate with us, Roman. It’s been a fucking nightmare—” Alamea winced seeing his reaction to her poor choice of words, but it didn’t stop her from expressing months worth of frustration. “You lost, and I get that was hard for you, but leaving us here to deal with all this mess was not fair, and you know it.”

Leaving me here.

“I know that.” His eyes lifted to hers, finally, and she immediately regretted it, because him looking at her like that, almost….sympathetic. Apologetic. It….it didn’t help. “And, I’m sorry.”

That definitely didn’t help.

“Are you?” A pointed challenge but valid question, nonetheless. She crossed her arms, the pain in her shoulder almost non-existent largely due to the Tylenol she’d been given by the trainers. “Because that would mean you actually care.”

He was silent.

“You think I don’t care?”

A simple question. If only a simple answer was available. Though unnecessary, because Roman was on his feet, in front of her and on her before she could truly process what kind of answer she wanted to give him.

His lips were on her, igniting a fire she didn’t realize she’d missed so much until that moment. Roman always kissed with intent and purpose, neither of which were unclear in that moment. She grasped at his face, holding him closer, his mouth dominating her.

Her hand went to the bottom of his shirt, eager to lift it off, to feel taut muscle under her short acrylics. He obliged, removing his shirt, leaving him bare and exposed to her. Her breath caught just for a moment. His body had always been something to be exalted, but it seemed over the past year he’d progressed to whatever exists beyond the gods level.

Divine.

He was divine.

Roman worked quick to return the favor, yanking her toward him and pulling off the thin sleeved shirt she wore. No bra. Big, heavy breasts freed, she could see his eyes darken. He’d always been obsessed with her body, almost as much as she adulated his.

He hiked her up on his waist, an unnecessary act as he simply moved to lay her down on the bed he was previously sitting in.

Body hovering over hers, she sat on her elbows, watching and lifting up her lower half as he went to remove the matching pants to her top.

Again, that darkened look of desire that deepened as he focused on her thick thighs and the sacred, still clothed space between them.

“Missed this,” he murmured, soft, thick lips trailing kisses down her neck while one hand played with her breast. “Missed you.”

A statement she couldn't think too much about when his mouth shifted to her nipple, sucking greedily while his other hand lowered from playing with her breast to dipping inside her underwear.

“Roman,” she moaned his name, neck craned back, one hand cradling the back of his head as his tongue circled around her chocolate areola and his fingers began collecting the wetness already forming between her thighs.

He was too good at this.

Way too good.

Eyes barely open, focused and unfocused on the ceiling above her, dissatisfaction filled when he released her with a pop, voice haughty and something else. “You missed me?”

Need. A sense of need unlike the carnal one blooming through the both of them.

She said nothing, shifting and moaning as he teased a finger in her tight hole. An unacceptable non-answer.

He snaked his way down her body, Alamea partially wishing she’d removed his pants instead as she caught a brief glance of that unmistakable dent against his dark sweats.

She watched as he easily slid her panties down her legs, bringing them to his face, eyes shutting as he sniffed and inhaled deeply, like trying to comment her scent to memory.

It made her even wetter.

She watched his head lower and lower, the tip of that pink tongue peeking out and grazing just enough for her to feel but not feel. Groaning, she reached to push his head down and help him reach his target, but he resisted, smirking up at her.

Damn you.

“You missed me?”

Her eyes widened. This bastard.

“Roman, please,” she groaned, again, working to help him reach his destination, and again, he decided to play more games.

Her head dropped back when he hummed and blew on her clit, fingering the wetness on her inner thigh. “That wasn’t an answer, baby girl.”

Damn him.

He always knew just what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. It always did her something different when he used nicknames like that. Even calling her Ally. But, it was when he placed a long, languid kiss up her pussy that he finally evoked the response he was clearly looking for.

“Fuck,” she cursed, ready and willing to say whatever he wanted to get exactly what she wanted. “Yes, yes, I missed you, okay? I missed you.” A desperate confession born from need and borderline pain.

It pained her to not have him.

Another haughty smirk. “That’s what I thought.”

Like most, if not all, sexual interactions, Roman ate her out until she was seeing stars, moon, skies, Jupiter, Mars, and anything else not of this world. His arrogance was astounding to many, and rightfully so, but for her, someone who’d been on the receiving end of that magical tongue of his, it simply wasn’t enough.

He was too good.

And, he always knew just how and where to get her for when it was that time. Time for him to spread her thighs, and slide every inch of that thick, long dick of his inside of her. And, when he did, for the first time in much too long, they were both moaning together. He kept his grip on her hips, her fingers dug into his back, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

It’d been a while, so there was a bit of discomfort, maybe even pain, but that easily and quickly morphed into that pleasure only he could bring her.

“Missed this so much,” he groaned, deep voice in her ear as he drove into her, filling her to the hilt. “Thought of this—of you—the entire fucking time.”

She moaned, seeing the hiss leave his mouth as her nails raked up and down, laying claim to him. “L–liar.”

She could have sworn the faintest hint of a smile appeared on his face before he shifted his hips and somehow found a way to dig into her even deeper. “Shit,” she cursed. “You’re so deep in me.”

“Course’ I am,” was his cocky ass reply, though again, well warranted. “No one else can fuck you like this, Ally.”

Ally.

God, it’d been too long since she’d been called that. Called that by him. The only person she wanted to hear said name from.

She was having a hard time keeping the noise down, keeping from screaming, the intensity of his thrusting causing the headboard to smack into the wall repeatedly. She was certain they were going to put a hole into it.

“You think I don’t care?” He asked, having switched positions so that one of her thick legs was over his shoulder, her other leg locked around his waist. He was pounding her. “That it didn’t kill me to be away from you that long?”

It certainly didn’t feel like it. Not while he was gone, but in that moment, with him etching and memorializing his place and autonomy over her body with his dick, she could feel it. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, was unprepared to admit that it was care. Not really.

The sex. He could have just missed the sex. Not her.

He, unlike her, seemed to be able to separate the two.

If only she was so lucky.

When he put her on her hands and knees, she’d braced for something else. Rougher. Less….whatever that was. It was his favorite position on especially stressful days. He’d use her body as a ragdoll of sorts, jerking her back and forth, heavy balls slapping against her bountiful ass the same way her Double D’s flopped all about. Erratic and aimless. He’d use it—and her—to decompress from the heaviest of stressors, and she took it all.

She took everything he gave her, because it was mutually satisfying. He fucked her until she couldn’t feel anything else, couldn’t take anything else, all the while he got his own sort of fill and salacious unloading.

It just worked.

But, this was different, there was something almost…..sensual. He fucked her hard and deep, but he also kept that big body leaned over hers, continuing to pour into her all of the right—or wrong—words.

“Mmmm. Look how good this pussy molds to my dick. Shit made for me and me only.”

“You making a fucking’ mess all over these nice as sheets. Your Tribal Chief loves how wet this pussy gets for him.”

“Fucking perfect, Ally. I can never get enough of you.”

“That’s it, baby. Take this dick.”

“Trying to act like you didn’t miss me but milking the shit out of my cock. You a terrible liar, baby girl.”

They fucked throughout the night. Various locations. Several positions. Respites never lasting longer than twenty minutes, though none of it really shocked her. Alamea learned a long time ago if she was with Roman, alone, a bed or any other type of flat surface in the vicinity, she’d always end up with her legs in the air.

That wasn’t the problem.

Afterwards was the problem.

He didn’t leave. Not after the shared shower where he ended up on his knees eating her pussy like it was his midnight snack, a necessity in order for him to slumber. Not even after they—eventually—made it out of the shower, where she’d expected him to grab his clothes and redress, preparing to leave.

No, he instead made his way over to the bed, stark naked, climbing in and clearly waiting for her.

Or, something, at least.

She climbed in shortly after him, not needing to position herself. He did that for them, pulling her atop his body. Silence fell among them. Welcomed but not helpful.

They needed to talk.

“I care, Ally,” he spoke into the dark, voice low and what some might consider vulnerable. “Too much.”

She said nothing, unable to ignore the unspoken “I’ve always cared” that lingered in the room.

—-----------

The appearing and disappearing act continued. A bit of a detriment, in Alamea’s eyes, given all that happened since Roman��s grand return. New title as the OTC aside, it’d been nothing but back and forth between him and the New Bloodline, because, of course, his pride and hubris remained unchanged. He believed himself able to handle them all on his own.

She knew he couldn’t, and deep down, she knew he knew that, too. But, for as long as she’d known him, Roman’s pride was one of his biggest downfalls. He’d continue to end up in the situation he was in until he realized that he needed help.

And, to her credit, she tried to reason with him. Using their pillowtalk for those occasions where he showed up and they fell back into their old routine to talk some sense into him. But, it was always the same thing.

“I’ve got this, Ally.”

He didn’t. He didn’t have it. And, she knew as much when he agreed to team with Rhodes at Bad Blood.

Knew that if there was an opportunity, that was it, so she did what she had to do.

Reached out to Jimmy. She’d spoken with him every so often ever since his little brother and his new Bloodline put Big Jim out of commission for six long months. Stressed with him how Roman needed him.

Roman needed help.

And like the loyal family member he was, he showed up.

Right when Roman needed him the most.

She’d been on the sidelines of that match, saw the shock and appreciation, subtle vulnerability in Roman’s expression as he stared up at Jimmy in that ring. Saw his lips moving, asking, “you called the play?”

The way Jimmy nodded, pointing to her, Roman’s eyes setting on hers, locking.

“For you,” she mouthed.

Because, she had. She did it for him.

She did a lot for a man who, really, didn’t do much for her in return.

Not….not what she really wanted, at least.

But, Jimmy’s return kickstarted something. Restarted what was starting to feel like the good ole' days. Jey was recruited, though he’d made it clear it was less about helping Roman and more about getting his receipt on Solo and his crew following them costing him his title. Sami returned simply to help Jey. No other reason.

A disastrous show at Crown Jewel, however, revealed that while they were together, they weren’t united, and that was a problem.

A big problem.

One of many problems, as Roman still refused to humble himself, even as the group went around trying to recruit a fifth and final member for War Games. The match that was supposed to determine once and for all who the real Bloodline was.

Except, they couldn’t find a fifth member.

Until they did.

And, Roman hated it. Hated him. CM Punk. Though, she couldn’t blame him. That history ran deep, and so did the hurt.

In getting to know Roman better, learning him, she’d realized that underneath that harsh, hardened exterior was an unhealed man.

It sometimes made her wonder if…if that was why he never gave any indication of wanting more from them. Wanting more of her beyond just what she could provide him sexually.

If something held him back.

If someone.

Regardless, it didn’t matter anyway. They had more important issues, because even though they came out with the dub at War Games, Solo was still refusing to relinquish his “claim” to the title of Tribal Chief.

This meant another match was needed.

Just the two of them.

Roman vs Solo in Tribal Combat.

Like most things, Roman didn’t outwardly admit it, but she could see it. See that he hated it came to this, hated that despite everything that happened, he still loved his cousin.

But, Roman knew what had to be done. And, he did. He came out on top, hailed as the Undisputed Tribal Chief. It seemed like things were starting to gradually fall into place.

Seemed that way, at least.

—-------

Alamea wouldn’t say that it went downhill after Tribal Combat on Netflix, but one could argue that, in some ways, it went downhill after Tribal Combat on Netflix.

Roman was so determined and focused on winning back his title, on entering and winning the Royal Rumble to secure a chance to do just that, that he’d lost focus on something else.

Something important.

Something that was currently biting him in the ass.

The favor.

Punk’s favor owed to him by Paul Heyman. She had a feeling, a big feeling, actually, that somehow, someway, that favor would end up screwing over Roman. And, sadly, she was right.

He was being screwed over.

Back to back.

Punk eliminating him at the Rumble.

Seth injuring him at the Rumble, thus ruling him out for Elimination Chamber, his last opportunity to challenge Cody for the title.

The constant back and forth between him, Seth, and Punk all culminating to the grand reveal of the big favor. That Punk wanted Paul with him, in his corner, at their match at Mania.

And right then and there, Alamea knew where things were headed. What was happening.

Betrayal.

Roman was being betrayed.

Again.

And this….this, he couldn’t ignore.

Couldn’t not talk about. She couldn’t see how deeply it was impacting him without at least trying again to get him to open up.

Alamea woke up in the middle of the night, alone, but not alone. Reaching for his shirt, she slid it over her body, walking out to the balcony of her hotel room. That’s where he was, sitting and looking out over the city, alive and surprisingly bustling considering it was the middle of the night.

Cali things, apparently.

Pushing back some of her hair, she sat down next to him, unsurprised at how he kept his gaze on the city, not even bothering to look at her.

She didn’t say anything, and neither did he.

Not at first.

“It’s funny how much a year can change,” he spoke, deep voice low and laden with something indecipherable. “This time last year, I was untouchable.”

She remained silent. There was nothing to say to that, because he was right. He was literally on top.

Alamea watched his face distort into something bitter and resentful. “I should’ve tightened my grip on this company’s neck.” A sudden relaxation of his hard features as he chuckled bitterly. “It was the Wise Man that taught me diplomacy.” His voice suddenly mocking as he recited something she’d also heard Paul repeat almost a dozen times. “You gotta think politically.”

She licked her lips, moving closer to him. He reached a hand to her thigh. “I tried to help everyone.” A dip in his tone. Sadness. “Most of them don’t understand what a helping hand really looks like. What that really feels like.”

She frowned. “Roman…”

“What do I get for it?” A rhetorical question, his head shaking, hand squeezing her thigh just enough. “Netflix…TKO….Billion dollar deals.” Truths that could not be denied. There was 100% no question that the company had been as successful as it’d been the past few years because of the man next to her. “And somehow, I’m out on my ass.”

“Roman.” She placed her hand on top of his, taking and squeezing it. “You’ll get past this.”

Her words, however, didn’t seem to penetrate. “I lift everybody up and somehow….no one’s got enough respect….to just be true to their Tribal Chief.” He swallowed, jaw clenched. “To be true to me.”

So what does that make me?

An almost bitter question she forced herself to keep safe within the confines of her mind. She’d never been one to kick a man when he was down.

A quiet fell over them followed with an almost whispered, “lessons learned.” She ran her thumb over his knuckles as he turned to look at her for the first time. “We don’t lose.” She pressed her lips together. “We learn.” Unable to help herself, she reached to cup his face, his salt and pepper beard bristling against her palm. “Don’t trust anyone.” Words that didn’t seem to meet his eyes. Not as he looked at her.

“You can trust me, Roman,” she whispered. “You have to know that.” As much as she wished that gentle reminder would prompt a different expression, one of acceptance and appreciation, it didn’t. He still looked torn. Conflicted. The weight of it all fully visible for her to see. “I’m here. Right now. With you. Does….does that not mean anything?”

Do I not mean anything?

A question she’d wondered since their meeting three years prior.

A question, one day, she knew, she’d have to ask. But, not that night.

Again, it wasn’t about her, and she wasn’t prepared to try to make it about her.

Even if….even if there was a conversation they needed to have about her, about them. She couldn’t. Not tonight, at least. Soon. Most likely after WrestleMania, where he was likely to take another break.

“You sticking around?” His voice broke her from her thoughts. Even. An admirable attempt to remain indifferent and unbothered, but she knew better. Could see past it. Could see the hesitation and uncertainty swimming in his eyes.

Her answer was interesting to her, because at one point, it would be different. Another response than the one she would give him. An answer that was a bit of a necessity.

If for some reason, she didn’t want to stick around, that option seemed like no longer an option.

She didn’t have the choice to not stick around anymore.

“Yeah,” she answered, lowering her hand and scooting closer to him. Roman moved his arm around her, kissing the top of her head. She snuggled into him, hand on his chest. “I’ll stick around..."

—----------

She needs to talk to him.

Not a text.

Not a phone call.

No waiting around for him to find her after the fact, when he feels like being bothered with her.

She needs to talk to him, in person, and now.

It’s why, despite the massive weight of nerves sitting on her chest and rumbling in her stomach—unless that’s another symptom—she finds out where his locker room will be. Because of course, title or no title, the Tribal Chief always has his own space at every show.

Never to share with others except his Bloodline.

Whatever that means and looks like these days.

Determined or not, it doesn't stop the fact that there are a million and one things she’d rather be doing right now. Literally anything else. Anything. But, almost two weeks of sitting on this is already too long. Every day that passes without her saying anything just delays the inevitable.

She has to tell him at some point, and him making an unadvertised appearance at the show tonight is the perfect opportunity to do so.

Standing outside the locker room, Alamea forces herself to push back the urge to run away and hide. In every and all the ways. Makes herself knock three times, waiting, foot tapping, arms crossed outside the door.

It doesn’t take long for the door to open, and while she’s not sure who she expected to see, it certainly isn’t him.

Paul looks nervous, but that’s to be expected. He should be.

Roman is gonna fuck him up.

He clears his throat, stepping outside, standing in the doorway. Almost intentionally. “Ms. Dixon, what a sur—”

“Cut the crap, Paul.” A terse interruption, somewhat unlike her character, but between that and the fact that this bastard clearly made his choice regarding whose team he’s on, she really doesn’t have much of anything to say to him. “Do you know when he’s set to get here?”

Normally, it would be posed as a “when” versus a “do you,” but again, Roman’s long-term Wise Man has found himself in that space below the doghouse these days, so what he knows has, she’d bet, become severely limited.

He stutters with his response. “Well, you know as well as I do, the Tribal Chief comes and goes as he ple—”

“That’s not what I asked you.” She closes her eyes, shaking her head. This is already hard enough, and the fact that she’s now, of all times, getting a sudden wave of that damn nausea is just icing on the fucking cake. “Never mind, I’ll just wait for him.”

Because he’s bound to show up sooner or later, and she’d rather the sooner so they can get this over with now, even if something tells her this discussion is better served for after the show.

After WrestleMania, like she was initially thinking. But, there's something....something that won't let her wait any longer.

He...he deserves to know.

But, it’s when she goes to walk past Paul, into the room, he moves, shifts his big body, blocking her.

She frowns.

What the hell?

An insincere smile followed by a bullshit excuse or reason. However he sees it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her frown deepens. What? “I always used to hang out in the Bloodline locker room.”

A fact. When not working and helping the few superstars she was allowed to work with, Alamea would oftentimes spend the majority of her time in the locker room, laughing and bantering with the twins. Sometimes, it was just her and Roman. He’d kick everyone else out so he could focus before a match.

Never her though.

And, Paul knows this, so she’s even more confused by his reluctance.

“I understand that.” More insincerity, except something else now. He’s nervous. Even more than he was when he first opened the door. “But, I just think tonight you’d be better served somewhere—”

“Who is that?”

Another voice.

Not hers.

Definitely not Paul’s and most definitely female.

Familiar, too.

Alamea’s frown deepens once more, as she watches how Paul’s eyes go wide, his body angling towards inside the room.

“Oh, nothing, just—”

“Who’s in there?” She asks. Nothing else. Voice still. Dangerously still.

A now frantic almost gaze switched back onto her. “Uhh—

“I said who is that, Paul?”

Again, the female voice from inside the room. More attitude. A lot more attitude.

Something comes over Alamea as she subconsciously starts putting the pieces together. Something that makes her shove past the obese men, uncaring of how he stumbles and almost falls to the ground. She’s too busy putting a face to a voice, an act that gives her the most unexpected answer.

It’s not the fact that Jaida Parker in Roman’s locker room that bothers her.

Nor is it even the fact that the NXT star that she’d heard had been out on injury the past few months is looking her up and down with a sort of contempt.

No, it’s the fact that Jaida Parker is standing before her, mean mugging her, with one hand on her hip and the other on her slightly swollen belly.

Her pregnant belly.

And, it’d be maybe nothing to think about, but not for the fact that one look at a now standing Paul, the immense, sheer panic and terror on his face, that gives it away. That puts all the pieces together for one damning ass puzzle.

Jaida’s scowl shifts into an almost knowing smirk as she rubs her stomach. Salt on an open, gushing wound. “Oh, you that lil seamstress girl that used to be with the Bloodline, huh?” She scoffs. “I didn’t even know you was still around.”

Not anymore.

Alamea says nothing. She has nothing to say, or maybe she has a lot to say but none of it nice nor appropriate, and really, her gripe is not with the haughty woman before her. Or, even the complicit accomplice.

It’s with him, but they’re words that will never be spoken, because she’s done.

Done with it all. Done with this job. Done with WWE. Done with him.

Alamea turns on her heel, marching out past Paul, out of Roman’s locker room, and though he doesn’t know it yet, out of his life.

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x black!oc #arisnotebook

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lemotmo · 8 hours ago

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Pffff okay... my 8x15 thoughts...

Here we go I guess...

Let's start with this first:

How the fuck does a succesful TV-show go from the excellence of 8x09 and 8x10 to the absolute drivel that is 8x15? And all of this in just a few weeks? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Second:

Bobby? I'm not going to lie. I wept, sobbed and broke down at the end of the episode when Bobby 'died'. This for two reasons...

The first one being that it's Bobby fucking Nash, one of the staples of this show! Hell, I started watching 911 for Peter and Bobby!

The second one being that there has never been a more pointless death ever on any TV-show I've ever watched. And this in the middle of the season? The complete and utter disrespect for his character is mindboggling. Especially after reading that godawful Tim Minear interview where he says it was his idea to kill him off.

They had Peter do a goodbye article for Deadline? And exit interviews? HOW AND WHY? We literally saw bts last week with Bobby there! Alive and well!

So is it a 'fake' death or not?

If it is fake? This is NOT the way to treat a loyal audience Tim! You cannot kill someone and then magically resurrect them without repurcussions. A big part of your audience won't even be watching the show anymore to see him come back to life.

If it is real? Then fuck this show for doing this in a way that is nothing but disrespectul towards the GA and fandom alike. It's like they are begging to be cancelled!

Tim saying that it was supposed to be Ravi first makes so much more sense! Ravi is a recurring character. His death would have been horrible as well, but it would have pushed the story forward in a different way.

No, I'm not saying I want Ravi dead. Not a all. I like him a lot. But he isn't a main and he isn't Bobby! Narratively speaking it would have made so much more sense. It would have packed a punch, but it would still have been bearable.

Third:

Why does it seem they are setting up for Buck and Tommy to become friends? Does this have to do with the whole 'Tommy can be Buck's gay Yoda' thing Oliver talked about all the way back in season 7?

Hen and Karen are right there to give Buck advice. Do we really need Tommy for that? Ugh.

I just hope they aren't planning for some kind of weird love triangle with Eddie, because that would be the absolute worst way to address Buddie at this point. 🙄

Tommy literally challenged Buck, telling him that he viewed Eddie as competition. You cannot put the doomed couple together again after a conversation like that, only to draw out the endgame couple a bit longer and string the audience along. It would literally be Buck once again falling into the same trap he's always fallen into. 🤦‍♀️

But from what I've seen, they're probably forcing some strange friendship on Buck and Tommy, so Tommy can eventually help Buck with his feelings for Eddie. Which is also such a dumb storyline.

But whatever... they just killed off Bobby fucking Nash for no apparent reason in the middle of the season, so whatever! 🤷‍♀️

Fourth:

And this is the most unforgivable part of this entire episode for me.

The utter lack of Eddie Diaz!

This man has gone through hell for the 118. He has been nothing but a loyal friend to all of them. His character development has been stalled in order for others to get more developed.

His son was sent off to Texas in season 7. He followed him there in 8 and we weren't even allowed to see him reconnect with Chris. Then he finally got a storyline in Texas, only to be sidelined in the most disrespectful way ever by not even including a single scene in this two-parter where 'family' was so important.

They wasted time on some pointless helicopter chase nobody wanted or needed. They could have used that episode time to fit in a quick call to Eddie to show us his reaction at the end of the episode.

Bobby died and Eddie didn't even get a single reaction scene?

And Tim saying that we'll see Eddie's reaction later on?

Why is it that we always seem to see Eddie's reactions after the fact has happened? We didn't see him struggling with his son gone, we didn't see him reunite with Chris, we didn't see him reconnect with Chris, we didn't really see him confront his parents...

How can they treat a main character with so much disrespect? 😡

I am truly baffled that Ryan was still promoting these episodes to be honest. He really is too nice.

Fifth:

I can now completely understand Oliver's lackluster video he sent out yesterday to 'promote' the episode. He seemed uninterested in the whole thing. He wasn't excited about it. And the whole strange Q&A he did a few days ago where he said he lied liking 16 for the promo? Back then I thought he was just being his own British self, but now I think that he was genuinly annoyed by that episode.

He had to say goodbye to Peter, he had to work with Lou 🙄 and there was no personal development for his character at all.

In conclusion:

Where do we go from here?

We'll get the funeral in two weeks. The question about Bobby's resurrection was asked in an interview and Tim said that it wasn't real. He also said he didn't expect the funeral to leak? Really? That film set could be seen from space dude!

Then there is that weird flashing light we got right after Chimney received the antiviral. What was that about?

Couple that with the fact that Chimney got sick immediately from the virus while Bobby apparently had been walking around with the same virus for hours, but managed just fine???

Nothing adds up here.

If this all turns out to be some weird Chimney dream... again? What then?

Because then this show will have wasted precious air time to Chimney's delusions, while it could have used that time on more and better character development for its main characters.

What does all of this mean for Eddie Diaz if it turns out to be a Chimney hallucination? It means that he won't really have been in three episodes in a row, because in the third one he is a hallucination. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Whatever the characters get up to in some kind of weird coma dream isn't real, so nothing would move for any of them, except for Chimney.

What is the point of a plot like that? The story would just reset itself in episode 17.

And I know that I argued before in my (now very wrong spec) that this could all be a Buck dream. But at least if it had been Buck they could have developed the Eddie and Buddie plot further. They could have really dived into his feelings for Bobby as a father figure and his feelings for Eddie and Chris. It would have made sense in his narrative of season 8.

But Chimney? What would be the point? It would just be a repeat of 'There goes the Groom' in season 7. 🤷‍♀️

I just...

What a mess.

Honestly, this episode deserves low ratings and reviews. It simply wasn't good. 🤷‍♀️ They managed to alienate the Bobby crowd, Bathena crowd and Eddie crowd all at the same time. Even a big part of the BT fans weren't happy with this episode. Ali's ask box got flooded with angry Tommies because Tommy was 'used' in the episode and referred to as the 'ex'.

This was the only funny part of the episode for me to be honest. When Buck made sure it was clear that Tommy was his ex-boyfriend. 😂

I'm still going to continue watching season 8, don't worry. I need to see where all of this goes. But honestly, if Bobby is really dead? If Eddie keeps getting sidelined like this? If the Buddie plot isn't pushed forward a bit this season? I don't know what I'll do for season 9.

Eddie has been my main reason for watching this show for seasons now. I cannot go through something like this again. They better have him there for a lot of scenes in the last three episodes to make up for this horrible two-parter.

I'm still not worried about Buddie happening, because 8x09-8x11 set it up that it HAS to happen at some point. I'm just not clear on when anymore. If they don't address Buck and Eddie's feelings in season 8 they will lose all the momentum they created with 8x11 and they would have to start all over again in season 9.

I am a patient person and I've waited for ships before. But I won't be pushed around. If they decide to postpone the storyline again after they dangled the possibility so openly in front of us in season 8? I'm not sure what I'll do for season 9. 🤷‍♀️

Okay, I've rambled long enough. I'm going to try and answer some of the asks in my inbox later on today. I won't be able to get to all of them though. There's simply too many of them.

For now I'm going to take a moment for myself, regroup and try and conjure up some positivity for the rest of season 8. I'm quite sure it's still lurking around somewhere. 😂 I don't give up easily! 😌

#lemotmo's thoughts and ruminations #911 8x15 #911 8x15 thoughts #911 8x16 speculation #911 spoilers #911 abc #buddie #t mention

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greenlikethesea · 2 days ago

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"if you're having difficulty separating neil gaiman from his work and are taking pause, why can't you do that to jo rowling?"

the exposé on Neil Gaiman's crimes (and they are! they are crimes!) was the first time that a vast majority of people heard about his prolonged behavior. (there had been allegations the year prior, but these had been swept under the rug fairly quickly by the news cycle.) he worked hard to keep that information suppressed, so hard that even people who were close to him did not know these crimes were happening. as of my writing this, that article was published less than three months ago. something that shell shocking takes time. neil's writings featured three dimensional queer and bipoc characters, criticism of the family structure, advocacy for the agency of young people, and so on. they were not perfect by any means -- no body of work is, and an author's ideological shortcomings will almost always shine through their work -- but many, many people found solace in his sprawling fictional universes in which misfits could progress, evolve, and be the center of the story. his actions stand in direct contradiction to what his writing seemed to support and symbolize. the whiplash was beyond disturbing.

the reason that rowling's actions and behaviors are not remotely in the same category is that from the start, and for years now, she has not been shy about sharing her views. she started by testing the waters with "just asking questions" then letting the mask fall when people seemed to accept this mild "inquiry." yes, her books brought many people, including myself!, comfort, security, and an escape from their worlds, with millions relating to a boy who was outcast his entire life. but even a closer-than-superficial reading reveals the cracks in the foundation. as many other have stated, the books are rife with universally recognized racism, anti-semitism, heteronormativity, gender essentialism, not to mention baked in uk issues such as extreme classism, religious homogeneity, culturally ingrained stereotyping of irish/welsh/scottish characters, the list goes on. and due to being a billionaire, she has not only social influence, but monetary and governmental influence with huge donation power that will not even dent her empire. it's so much bigger than a book series.

today, april 16, 2025, was a huge setback for trans rights for UK citizens, multiple countries, and it is directly due to jo rowling's frothing at the mouth level of bigotry. before this, people were quite literally dying on years-long nhs waiting lists for gender clinics. now it's going to be so much harder for so many people.

it is not ableist to tell you to read another book. it is not bullying. it's not even mean. trans people worldwide, but especially in the uk, have seen the writing on the wall for this decision, and all of us have been begging you to reconsider where you spend your money. i don't give a rat's ass if it's your hyperfixation, because it was mine too, and i decided that my life and my loved ones' lives were more important than something i was once a huge fan of.

you're never getting your hogwarts letter. step into the real world, where trans people need you more than ever.

it's time to grow up.

Harry Potter is fucking unsalvageable at this point and it doesn't matter how much you seperate yourself from the artist/author when the author's bigotry and transmisogyny heavily overshadows anything in that mediocre book.

at this point it signifies that you are complicit in the genocide of trans people, especially trans women and that you don't care that Rowling is profiting off of HP while pushing for the removal of our existence.

love our trans sisters, especially trans sisters of color, more than this fuck ass book.

#greenie core

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zourrystylinson · 2 days ago

Note

I find it intellectually riveting—nay, anthropologically spellbinding how the phrase “shipping real people is gross” only ever seems to escape the lips of those morally panicked individuals when the ship in question is Larry. Ah yes, the ancient art of selective sanctimony. A tale as old as heteronormativity.

Like, where was this moral grandstanding when the internet descended into collective hysteria over Haylor, a coupling that lasted roughly the same amount of time it takes to microwave a burrito? Or when Elounope was treated like a royal marriage forged by the gods of coordinated pap walks? Not a murmur. Not even the faint rustling of a hypocrite’s conscience.

But the minute someone so much as breathes the word “Larry,” people start clutching their pearls like Victorian debutantes confronted with ankles.

Apparently, concern for the psychological sanctity of celebrities only activates when two men are involved. Fascinating! Positively textbook! Freud is doing the Macarena in his grave.

And let’s be abundantly clear: Larry is not and hasn’t been “just a ship” since like…2012? This is not your average, garden-variety “they’d be cute together” scenario. This is a multi-layered, intertextual, slow-burn epic spanning over a decade, filled with mirrored lyrics, shared wardrobes, matching tattoos, suspicious silences, and the kind of emotionally-charged eye contact that could power a small European village.

We’re not shipping. We’re conducting a longitudinal queer study with PowerPoint presentations, Excel spreadsheets, and footnotes. Our thesis is due. MLA format. Peer-reviewed by Tumblr.

And the most mind boggling part? There is objectively more compelling, tangible, eyebrow-raising evidence that Harry and Louis are together than there ever was for Louis and Eleanor. Whose vibe resembled two wax figures posing for a Sears catalogue titled “Heterosexuality: We Swear.” Meanwhile, H&L were out here singing at each other like star-crossed lovers in a tragic musical sponsored by Modest management and Syco entertainment.

But sure, we’re the ones who need psychological evaluation.

And the absolute audacity of people dissecting one side-eye in a red carpet photo of a straight couple and calling it proof of eternal love, then turning around and calling Larries “delusional” for noticing literal patterns that have spanned an entire decade… it’s giving hypocritical rococo goblin.

If you genuinely believe shipping real people is wrong, then please kindly evacuate from every straight ship tag with the urgency of a possum in a Whole Foods. But don’t masquerade as the Patron Saint of Privacy while gleefully reposting Haylor edits with “All Too Well (10 min version)” playing in the background.

It’s not about ethics. It’s about comfort. And queer love stories—especially the ones they tried to bury under PR and denial—make people uncomfortable.

So no, we’re not “invading privacy.” We’re just exceptionally observant, chronically online, and possibly a little feral. But also? Right.

(sorry for the rant lol)

....do i have lady whistledown in my inbox???

#SLAY though #kisses for your brain #cannot agree more #fandom dynamics #h&l #i dont even need to add anything

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alicentsgf · 3 days ago

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I always thought it meant this in a way, that it represented them, but I think this is actually the formula for how.

Like Shauna and Lottie told us, there is no "it", it was always just them. So regardless of whether this symbol has some ritualistic or practical meaning within the actual story (such as being a map), I think more than anything this symbol was chosen to look like it does because it mirrors the positions on a soccer field. It represents them because thats what this story has always really been about. It represents the team they had before they (both literally and figuratively) cannablised themselves.

Soccer is a perfectly balanced sport. At the moment the starting whistle goes for the two teams on a soccer field you can halve that field any way you like and get 11 players placed evenly across 11 different positions, each side a mirror of the other. The Yellowjackets however have always been innately lacking balance. Because of what some of them were willing to do to Allie, as well as the other already visible fractures in the team, they were unbalanced before they even got on the plane. In that way they were already working against nature, against the "wilderness", because isnt nature all about balance? Ecosystems, food chains, and life cycles, everything has an ebb and flow. Every animal has its specialised role in its environment, just like the players in a soccer game.

I've spoken a lot on here about the major themes in this show and what it all might mean, but ultimately what it boils down to in my opinion is they should have listened to Nat from the start. They should have "played like a fucking team and won". It was the only thing that could have possibly saved them because regardless of some supernatural force or not, it wasn't the wilderness that killed anyone, it was them. They made it possible. Their constant ostracisation and rejection of each other. "Freezing out" Allie (figuratively) becomes "Freezing out" Jackie (literally). The way they repeatedly push out the "weak", the least useful, the easiest (gentlest) targets until all there is left to do is turn on each other instead. Fracturing completely. Now we see the teens in season 3 splitting into factions, making 3 or 4 seperate gameplans that end up conflicting in the worst possible way all because they couldn't trust one another. If they'd just worked as a team/communicated then Mari wouldnt have died. All of them killed her in the end, even Mari herself contributed.

It's like Lottie said to Mari right before she fell. Shes been here before, she could let it be different, but then it isnt. It happens again, and again, and again. Allie, Jackie, Javi, Ben; "You want to freeze her out?", "Jackie didn't say it", "He's not one of us", pushing them out one by one until the whole team is so unbalanced it fractures irreparably, reflected in the way the symbol appears in the fracture of Misty's glasses the night they hunt the outsiders - the night that marks the end of this symbiotic little society they've created, suddenly divided by a reminder of home. We see it in Misty's ostracisation right from the pilot, their inability to treat her as a teammate. Its the reason they're even stuck there in the first place. Misty being so desperate to hold onto her first taste of community and acceptance that she destroys the transponder. Them all isolating Shauna in her grief and guilt, othering Lottie in her illness, its all the same thing. Its what dooms them every time.

So many opportunities to make a different choice and they never do. They make the same mistake a hundred times over. Thats the essence of tragedy though, because of course it could be different, they could make a different choice, but they won't. They are who they are. Who they've always been.

"It never meant what you thought it meant," doesn't just apply to the necklace. All this time demonising and rejecting this symbol like they demonised and rejected each other, but it doesn't mean what they think. Thematically speaking it's not a curse, or a warning, its a representation of the only thing that could have saved them.

#like... you cant deny. it looks like a starting line up #yellowjackets #yj meta #yj soccer posting #yj thoughts #yj theories #shauna shipman #yj analysis #lottie matthews #natalie scatorccio #jackie taylor #misty quigley #taissa turner #van palmer #yj spoilers

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hellfire--cult · 19 hours ago

Text

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️18+: softness, drama, nervousness, fluff, angst, hurt, your heart will clench, the younger ones (not so young) make an appearance, someone else does too

wc: 10.3k

A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long! I didn't proofread this much, but, well... these next chapters are where everything starts falling into place. The omegaverse, will start omegaversing after this one.

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

<- Prev. chapter - Next chapter ->

CHAPTER 24

You couldn’t believe where you were going.

You couldn’t even believe you were invited. This could also have happened even if you hadn’t slept with Eddie to begin with, but you couldn't help but feel honored and hopeful. He invited everyone in the group, and now you were in your brand new car, a Toyota, picked out by Eddie himself, driving into Hawkins.

“There’s literally no buildings… Like, no apartments and stuff…” You mentioned as you passed the downtown, while Robin hummed next to you, pointing at a particular one that looked like a three story complex.

“The apartment buildings here are small. You won’t ever see more than four story buildings around here.” She explained and you nodded as you kept your eyes on the road. It looked nice, homely. The stores looked like they were stuck in time, which only made it even more appealing.

“Must be a quiet little place to live in.” Robin chuckled as she laid back in the passenger’s seat, her phone in hand with the GPS on.

“Nah, we always found a way to make a mess somewhere. Especially Eddie.” Your heart skipped a beat and Robin noticed how you straightened yourself in your seat and she smirked your way. “Really? Just by saying his fucking name?”

“I– What?”

“You’re whipped. Gone. It looks cute, but at the same time, chill.” She said and you scoffed, stopping at a red light. Your head snapped to look at her with a frown in your face.

“I’m not that whipped.” Robin just stared at you with a poker face, silently asking you ‘really?’. You groaned with a sigh, laying back on the driver’s seat, running your hands over your face. “I didn’t think he would invite me.”

“Why not? It would be really stupid and disrespectful for him not to invite you, when he had his dick in every hole of yours–”

“Robin!” You gasped, your hands flying off your face to see Robin smiling at you.

“Why are you having a nervous breakdown now?” She asked and you sighed, noticing the light turning yellow. You started driving once it turned green again, looking over at Robin’s GPS for a second to look at the road, and then look forward once more.

“I– It’s… What if he doesn’t like me? I mean, Eddie didn’t like me when he first met me, so, maybe, it’s genetics, you know?” You could feel your throat closing up a bit when you talked. You had been a wreck when Eddie dropped the news to you. You cleaned your house a million times to keep yourself distracted, tried on many outfits, even if you were staying for just a few hours. You wanted it to be perfect, and to be liked.

“Oh my god… Wayne will like you. I promise you that. He respects anyone that puts Eddie in his place.”

Wayne. You would be meeting Wayne.

Eddie had told the plans a week ago to you. You had asked him if it was okay for you to meet him, and he told you that he would like for you to meet his Uncle. His uncle’s birthday. You were meeting Wayne on his birthday. That prospect was enough to send you into a spiral of nerves.

“I– I know I asked this a million times, but I dressed up okay, right?” You asked your best friend, only for her to roll her eyes and point to the right for you to follow the directions.

“You look fine! Jesus! You need to calm down!” You nodded and took a deep breath in as you kept driving, knowing you would soon meet Eddie’s home. Where he grew up to be who he was now. It was a really big step, a really big change. You might even cry at one point and you would not be able to explain yourself to the group.

The music playing on the radio was the only sound that engulfed the two of you as you kept driving to your destination. Your stomach was in knots, and you needed to be distracted from your thoughts. You cleared your throat, catching your best friend’s attention.

“So… Is Steve… still mad?” You asked and turned your head for a second to inspect Robin’s reaction. She frowned for a moment and that was enough answer for you. You sighed as you kept driving, shaking your head. “What is his fucking deal?”

“Look, I don’t know. I tried asking him and all I got was ‘You don’t understand.’. I don’t know what went on with him and Eddie. He wouldn’t tell me.” You couldn’t help but feel certain anger at your other friend. What was his problem with you? Were you not good enough for his best friend or something? Was he too pissed at Eddie for hiding you from him?

“It makes no sense Robs, and you know it.” You commented as you turned left, the sign of ‘Forest Hills: Trailer Park’ coming up. Your heart picked up a pace as you could already see a certain trailer with a bunch of tables gathered outside, seats, fairy lights all over and– It seemed like the entire community came for the birthday.

“Wayne is quite popular, isn’t he?” Robin stated and you hummed. You kind of knew why it could be. You could sense the twinge of sadness in Robin’s voice as she said that. You weren’t going to comment on it, so you slowed your car as you approached, seeing Eddie already in the distance, talking to an older woman as Steve helped with setting up drinks on the two tables.

You spotted Eddie’s car a trailer away, probably not wanting to park the car in front of his uncle’s home so he wouldn’t occupy the space. You parked right behind him and Robin instantly got out to go to the trunk to get the boxes of snacks out. You gripped the steering wheel once and closed your eyes to concentrate. You could do this. You could meet him. It was a big step, and you cannot mess this up.

You stepped out and helped Robin, closing the trunk and locking the car before heading towards Eddie’s old home. Even if you knew that the financial circumstances of these people were low, you could see the smiles as they greeted you. They had casseroles in their hands, pans with homemade bread. A small girl, around five, was holding a cake with the help of her older sister, maybe ten, walking towards Eddie to hand him the cake.

The world stopped spinning for a second as you watched. Eddie smiled widely as he held the cake and put it on the table. He lifted the girl up in his arms and twirled around to make her fly, her legs kicking around as she giggled loudly. The older sister was left pouting, looking at the attention her little sister was getting. Eddie put the younger girl down, only for him to do the same with the other, effortlessly, despite the height and weight difference.

You just stood there. The environment around you turned silent, no movement, just your heartbeat being heard in your ears. You didn’t know you were staring in awe, in amusement, completely entranced by him. He looked… beautiful. He looked perfect. Your heart tugged at you, painfully so, and–

“Hey.” You snapped out with a harsh blink as you turned your head to look at Robin, who was staring at you with a bit of worry, yet a small smile was on her lips. “You okay, soldier?”

“I– Yes. Yes, I’m– I’m fine.” You choked on your words as your feet started working again. You were left completely shocked as you looked at him, with children. He was playing with children. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You had to stop. You were becoming emotional, and you couldn’t afford this.

Nancy came out of the trailer holding stacks of cups, a smile appearing on her face as she saw Robin approaching. You had told Robin that no matter what, she must not tell Nancy. You knew it would be hard for her to do so, keeping secrets from her girlfriend, but Nancy was also a close friend of Eddie’s. Everything would be a mess if the entire group found out about you two.

Eddie and Steve had yet to realize you two had arrived. Steve was scratching his head as he distributed the bottles of drinks evenly on each table, and Eddie made the girls run back to their homes. It was Robin who announced the arrival of you two, making you jump in your place.

“My love!” She screeched as she wobbled with the box in her hands towards the trailer steps. Nancy giggled as she came down, giving her a peck on the lips. You smiled at the interaction, yet a pang of jealousy surged through you. You wanted to do that with the man who was slowly turning to face you. You wanted to greet him with a hug, with a kiss, with a cheeky comment about how his band t-shirt was not appropriate for a birthday.

Eddie smiled as he looked at you, walking your way to grab the box out of your hands first as he put it on the table. He frowned as he opened it, taking a look inside. Your heart was frantically beating out of your throat as you waited for him to say something.

“We asked for… cheetos. Just Cheetos. You brought the entire store.” He said with a chuckle, and you shrugged and looked around, seeing many of the neighbors already gathering up.

“Good thing I didn’t bring just that then.” He was smiling your way, seeing him take a gulp as he looked around for a second. Your eyes fell on a pair of hazel ones that were staring at the both of you intently. Steve averted his eyes as soon as you looked at him, and then he walked towards Robin and Nancy. You felt your heart drop slightly by how cold your friend was being to you because of all of this.

Eddie stared at your profile for a second. The wind blowing against you, and the warmth of the afternoon’s sun hitting your skin just right. You stood where he grew up. Where he was raised. And his body was reacting as such. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he gambled with his options.

His resolve to keep himself in check with you today was slowly wavering because you two couldn’t risk it. Not in front of his family or his friends. But he couldn’t contain it. His hand slowly reached for the small of your back, and your head snapped towards him, a question etched in your eyebrows.

You could see the need in his eyes. How he also wanted to kiss you, greet you like you two always did when seeing one another. You didn’t want to cross any boundaries today, knowing this was an important event for him and for everyone around him. You didn’t want to overstep in any sort of way. He turned around, yelling at Nancy.

“Nance, the sparklers are still in the car, right?”

“Oh, yeah! I think there’s also more napkins and the speaker!” She replied, and he nodded, looking your way again.

“Care to help me get those, Peach?”

Your heart beat insanely crazy in your chest as you nodded. You looked back for a second to see Steve shaking his head before his attention went back to Nancy. You frowned a bit as Eddie started leading you towards the parked cars, right where you came from. You didn’t know why Steve didn’t like you two together. Why was he so against the idea? He came here with Eddie and Nancy in the car, and they didn’t look weird or out of place, or anything like that when you saw them from afar.

The problem was when the two of you got together. Every time Steve saw you and Eddie together, he would shut down. He would not talk with either of you, and he would not even look at you. He would glare at Eddie a few times, and you couldn’t help but ask yourself if Steve knew what Eddie truly felt for you. If he knew, and he looked at Eddie that way whenever he suspected you two were doing something, then it didn’t mean anything good.

“Steve still mad?” You asked as you kept walking, coming towards his car only for him to look back at the trailer and for his hand to grab yours.

“A bit. He will come around, he’ll have to get over it sooner or later.” He mentioned, and you squeezed his hand back as he stepped around the car, going towards the other side so you two would be hidden from everyone else. He crouched a bit so he wouldn’t be seen, and– he hated this. He hated it, but– He couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know. He was lost. This was the first time he ever… that he ever–

“Hi.” You said with a smile, cutting his thoughts off, and his reaction was quick, smiling back down at you as everything else shut off in one second. His face leaned down, coming close to your lips as his ears started ringing.

“Hi.” He finally kissed you. Slow. Gentle. Tender. He was surprised he could even kiss someone like this. To kiss someone without the need for it to escalate into something else. To kiss just because he wanted to kiss the person. To kiss them first thing in the day, so they wouldn’t forget him so easily.

He felt your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands ran all over your back. He needed this. It was as if your embrace was a calming spot. A safe haven. He had been a wreck the past week. He was very sensitive, and everything that could be said to him it could end up badly.

His uncle’s birthday was not something easy for him to do. Not when it could potentially be his last birthday. So it had to be perfect. Everything had to come together nicely, and it had to be memorable for Wayne. He didn’t meet you this past week, even if he extremely wanted to. He didn’t want you to witness the mess he was. He arranged everything with his friends when Eddie finally accepted their offers of helping, including you.

You had nagged at him all week, asking if he needed you to do something, to help, but he always replied with a no, and that he had it under control. Steve was the one who made him snap out of his craziness and told Eddie that he was an idiot for doing this alone. But could you blame him? His family, the last member of it that he recognizes as such, is dying. This birthday, overall, means nothing.

But now with you, the weight was lifted off his shoulders in one second. His arms engulfed you, not wanting to let go just yet, as you two kissed. Lips moving against each other, savoring the moment because it had been days, hours, minutes. He counted every single one of those, and you had done almost the same.

You weren’t mad when Eddie didn’t ask you to meet him the past week. You understood him, but the need to help him made your skin itch. You couldn’t let him do this alone, but you didn’t know how to approach him without invading his space. You didn’t want him to get mad or snap at you. You were surprised when two days ago he called and asked if you could help get some of the things.

You were really happy to help, and you told him as such. You were happy he had included you in the celebration of Wayne’s birthday, and even happier that he had asked help from you to prepare it.

He kissed you softly, and you kissed back just the same. You wished you weren’t hiding right now. You wished you could meet Wayne under different circumstances. You wished you could introduce yourself as something else rather than his nephew’s friend slash fuckbuddy. He groaned into the kiss when your fingernails graced the back of his neck for a second, making him pull away.

“Sorry for not being… available this week–”

“I understand. It– It looks perfect, Eddie.” Your voice was like a calming tune in his head. As if the vibrations of your tone soothed each cell and made him become like putty under your arms. Vulnerability was something Eddie never did. He never showed it, and if he did, he always made sure to be alone for it.

Except one time.

One time, you had caught him red-handed after hanging up with Wayne. You two had barely started to talk, but something about you made him break. Something about you made him want to be vulnerable. Maybe it was due to the fact that you had been vulnerable with him, and he wanted to show you as well, be even.

But you had held him, let him cry out on your shoulder, and he never forgot about that touch. He never forgot about that moment with you. He never quite let go of how you rubbed his back and then helped him calm down from it all. He only broke down with Wayne, and he once did with Steve after Wayne got diagnosed.

And now, it seemed as if you understood why he wasn’t present this week. As if you knew the turmoil of emotions rushing all over his body because of today. And it was incredible how you could manage to make all of that disappear in one instant by just being here, with him. He stared at you for a while, a smile forming on his lips as he slowly nodded.

“Yeah… You guys helped me a lot, too.” You smiled up at him, to then pinch his cheek roughly as you glared when he winced. “What–!”

“You are one stubborn idiot.” You let go of his cheek, and he stepped back, rubbing his skin with a pout on his lips. You bit your lip, unable to contain yourself, grabbing onto the hem of his shirt and pulling him downwards again, towards your lips, kissing his pout away. “Don’t be a baby, Munson.”

“Now, be careful, sweetheart.” He roughly spoke as his eyes clashed with yours. You could sense the need behind it, the lack of physical touch from one another becoming apparent now. You really wanted to just take him away for a few hours now and spend it alone with him. You weren’t going to, but it was just your body reacting, and your emotions enhancing the need.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You gave him a peck as you pushed him away softly, looking up at him as you tried to not let the sadness and disappointment show in your eyes. “We have been gone for a hot minute…”

He stared at you for a while, the wind blowing between the two of you for a few seconds, with no words being exchanged. He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to go back and pretend that he didn’t want to kiss you all the damn time. He didn’t want to hold himself back for the entire night. How was he going to achieve that when he knew he would probably need you by his side for this?

“Yeah. The others might arrive soon too…” You hummed at his response, biting your bottom lip as you looked up at him. He huffed with a smile, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips, reading your mind. You took the opportunity to move your hand down and pinch his left ass cheek, making him squeal. “I swear, you are LITERALLY obsessed with my ass.”

“I swear you had another mosquito.” You giggled as you went towards the trunk of his car. He chuckled and pressed the middle button of his key, letting you open it up. You whistled as you saw the huge speaker laying inside. “When Nancy said the speaker, I thought of a small one. Like those JBL ones.”

Eddie chuckled, standing next to you, grabbing the speaker, boombox, by its handle and pulling it out. You wanted to bite his arm from how its veins popped out from the movement, but you had to keep yourself together. At least for today.

“We have almost the entire park coming for Wayne’s birthday. A small speaker wasn’t going to cut it, Peach.” He said as he looked at his old home. They weren’t going to lack on food and drinks since all the neighbors came with stuff. There weren’t many people, but there were quite a few. “It might be his last one… That’s why they all came.”

And you knew it. You had that suspicion. You looked up at Eddie, staring at his profile. His jaw was clenching as his eye bag looked like it was pulsating. He was stressed. He was nervous. He was anxious. You didn’t care at that moment. If Nancy or anyone else were looking, they could go to hell.

You wrapped your hands around his arm, nuzzling your nose against his bicep before placing a soft kiss there. He was wide eyed as he stared down at you, knowing you two were not covered by the car anymore. Your eyes looked up to clash against his, a warm and encouraging smile spreading on your lips.

“Let’s make it a great birthday. Okay?”

Time went still again, and yet he smiled back, giving a nod your way. You slowly let go of his arm, and the seconds started ticking again. You grabbed the napkins and sparklers from the passenger’s seat as Eddie closed the trunk. He grabbed the handle of the huge speaker and rolled it like a carry-on back towards the party, setting it up with his phone so music would start playing through the field.

You helped Nancy put the snacks in bowls and plates, as more people brought little pies or snacks, as well as drinks. Some introduced themselves as old fishing pals of Wayne, then a woman who told you that Wayne had helped her fix her pipes when she barely moved in years ago. Everyone had stories with him, and you realised he was dearly loved and cared about in this trailer park.

Then, Argyle, Eden, and Jonathan finally rolled up. They were bringing in alcoholic drinks because Jonathan had great deals with suppliers thanks to his bar. The drinks were nicely put on the table, and Jonathan made it very clear to keep them clean and respectful. Basically, he told people to measure themselves with the alcohol and not get drunk in a lapse of minutes.

Nancy then started waving excitedly towards the road, which made you look forward, seeing her brother waving back, followed by Will, a boy and a girl you didn’t know, and Dustin. You wondered if they knew about you. Did they know what you looked like? Did they know you by name, even?

Your questions were answered when Jonathan and Nancy gave their hugs, and Will immediately smiled at you.

“Finally, nice to meet you.” That’s how you knew. You smiled at the young boy, shaking his hand as you presented yourself. Mike, even if acting as if he weren’t interested, he shook your hand with his enthusiastically. You then looked at the two young people you hadn’t met, nor even seen in any of the pictures Eddie had shown you.

“I’m Lucas.” The boy said, presenting himself and shaking your hand. Lucas… Eddie had mentioned a boy who quit his club to go into the basketball team, and maybe that boy was Lucas. You turned to the short-haired girl, who was smiling at you.

“I’m Jane.” You smiled as you shook her hand. Before you could say anything, you were engulfed in the arms of a stranger whom you only knew through pictures.

“Oh man! It’s great to finally meet you!” Dustin exclaimed excitedly as he pulled away, your eyes wide in surprise as he held your shoulders. “I’m Dustin Henderson, pretty sure you know that already, very popular amongst the older crowd.”

You couldn’t help the snort and the smile bubbling up in you as you looked at the guy in front of you. He was radiating happiness in every single aspect. You couldn’t help but feel giddy as he shared his emotions with you. You presented yourself, and he gave you a roll of his eyes, telling you he knew.

“Yeah, I know a bit about most of you.” You commented, and before Dustin could say anything, you felt the collar of your shirt being pulled from the back, separating you from the younger man in front of you. Dustin’s eyes looked up, and your head turned to look at Eddie with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Now, you don’t hug people you just met, Henderson. It’s creepy.” He said almost in a snarl, but Dustin smiled widely and immediately latched onto Eddie. You were wide-eyed as you saw all the younger ones hugging Eddie tightly, forming a big chunk of people. You inspected Eddie’s face as he stayed in the middle, his eyes closed as he breathed in.

You realized that it might have been months since they all last saw each other. Steve, Robin, Argyle, and Eden approached next, and they all happily greeted each other, with Steve also almost getting tumbled over. Argyle presented Eden as his girlfriend, and– Shit, another pang of jealousy. You wanted that. You wanted to be presented as… as a girlfriend, just like her.

Then you looked at how Will and Mike had stepped back, and Mike’s arm was wrapped around Will’s waist as he listened to Steve talk to Dustin about proper manners with alcohol. They were 20, but they were allowed to drink under their supervision.

“For context…” Jonathan stood next to you, holding back a chuckle. “We were present when we let Dustin have his first taste of alcohol at eighteen. We turned around for a second, and he had chugged two beers down.”

“What!?” You asked loudly, looking at Jonathan with a disapproving look on your face. He shrugged at you with a roll of his eyes.

“He is a menace! And very sneaky!” You shook your head at him, a small smile forming on your lips as you looked back at the group. “So… heard things with Jeff broke off.”

You blinked a few times at his words, and you wondered why he suddenly said them, only to then see Jeff, Gareth, and another guy coming over, laughing as they talked. You had to lie to them again. Robin helped with coming up with that plan. Supposedly, you and Jeff had tried going exclusive, only for it to not work out. Jeff had feelings for someone else, while you never caught those for him. You were two friends who often fucked and that was it. You pretended you had misinterpreted your feelings.

“Yeah, but it’s better this way. I honestly am happy that he is with the one he truly likes now.” You smiled, and Jonathan’s eyebrows were still furrowed in the middle in concern. You turned to look at him and sighed. “I promise, I am fine. I explained to you that I thought I liked him, just because he was the only one I was fucking.”

“Still… I don’t know… I just feel like you– You sound incomplete, if that makes sense.” You stared at him as the words processed in your head. Incomplete. How does one sound… incomplete?

Your attention was brought back as people started cheering and clapping, and you turned to look towards the trailer door. Walking down the small stairs with Lucia, the caretaker, helping from behind, was Wayne. He was waving as best as he could, taking little steps to reach the wheelchair at the bottom of the porch. Eddie was already standing there, and your eyes filled with tears as you saw the boney structure of his uncle embrace his nephew, who was much bigger than him, yet he was hugging him as if Eddie were still a kid.

Eddie held onto him, separating just enough to help him get on the wheelchair as Lucia prepared the IVs on the back to connect him to. You saw people slowly approach Wayne to start congratulating him and you waited by the tables, alongside the rest of your group. The corroded coffin guys stepped up, going first.

The old man greeted them, and you could see him reprimanding Gareth for something. You were staring at Eddie’s reactions, standing next to his uncle as he listened in to all the greetings. Then, the younger ones greeted him, and you noticed how Eddie had to grip Dustin by the hair to not get overly excited when telling something to his uncle, who was trying not to burst out laughing.

Then, your group started moving, one by one, greeting him and giving small talk. Argyle seemed to have offered some of his things, which Eddie only rubbed his temples at. He also presented Eden to him. Nancy just politely greeted him, only for Robin to start telling Wayne how she was her girlfriend now in a very loud manner. Jonathan apologized for Robin’s excitement, and the old man thanked him for the nice glass of whiskey he would drink tonight. He spent an awful lot of time talking with Steve, and you stood at the side, the nerves eating away at your own stomach.

You were a stranger here. You were invading privacy, and you didn’t know how to act with it. You didn’t know how to introduce yourself. You didn’t know if his uncle knew the clashes you and Eddie had in the past, the number of insults you threw at his nephew. If he knew, he would hate you. He definitely would despise you. Fuck, you didn’t know–

“Peach.”

Your head snapped up, seeing Eddie with a smile on his face as he put his hand behind your left shoulder. You gave him a quick, nervous nod and took a deep breath as you let him guide you towards his uncle. Wayne Munson was looking up at you already, a tilt of his head as he inspected you all over.

“I do not know you.” He said with curiosity. You opened your mouth only for Eddie to give your name first, and then Wayne’s eyes widened, and he squinted at you. “I’m sorry– You– You are the one who tried to beat him up, right?”

Oh, fuck, he knew. His uncle knew about you and Eddie hating each other before. This looked bad, and the fact that he knew that part specifically. Shit. Your heart was slowly stopping in panic as you took a sharp intake of breath.

“I– Yes, but–” You were interrupted by laughter, his uncle clapping as he cracked up as if you had just told the greatest joke of all time. Your eyes were wide as Eddie groaned in exasperation next to you. You didn’t know what was happening as you looked back and forth, wondering what you had done to make this situation funny.

“Lord, I respect you, kid. Honestly, not many have the balls to do what you did to someone like him.” You tilted your head in question, and Eddie’s eyes snapped open at his uncle’s words. Wayne looked at him, and Eddie gave a subtle shake of his head. Not now. It was not the time. His uncle understood and grabbed your hand. “I’m Wayne, nice to meet you.”

You slowly shook his hand, and when you pulled away, you turned to look at Eddie, who was already looking down at you. His eyes were filled with emotions that you couldn’t decipher. There was a mix of absolutely everything, and you didn’t know which to pinpoint first. You opened your mouth to talk, only for Robin to interrupt you both.

“Come set up beer pong with me!” She called out to you specifically, and you nodded, smiling down at Wayne once again.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Munson. If you play beer pong, I’m your rival.” You made conversation, and the older man rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“That would be your worst mistake. I may be in a wheelchair, but my pulse is steady.” You were happy he took the comment with the same energy you delivered it and then you walked away to help Robin. Eddie stayed back with his uncle, guiding them both to a table. Eddie grabbed a beer and then filled a cup with just a quarter of whiskey in it.

“Don’t tell the doctors.” Eddie said, and his uncle chuckled, grabbing the cup and taking it to his lips.

“Never.” He took a small sip of the whiskey as Eddie sat down and popped the can open for him to take a sip of his own. “So… that girl.”

“What about her?” His uncle chuckled a bit, scratching the side of his head. Eddie’s heart was beating out of his chest as he waited for an answer, only for his old man to shrug.

“She seems nice.” Eddie let a small sigh escape before taking another sip of his beer. “Lovely of her to help you with the boombox.”

He spat his entire beer out, choking on the gas that got trapped in his throat. Fuck– Fuck–

“I– That didn’t… Shit, that didn’t–”

“Mean anything?” Wayne asked with an eyebrow raised in question. He slowly took another sip as he stared at his nephew. Eddie was looking down, a hand scratching his head as he tried to look for the best words.

“We… It’s just physical.” He tried to say as best as he could, but the words came out small, and his uncle noticed.

“I may be old… and I may be sick, but I know when something doesn’t mean anything. That kiss I saw… Come on.” His uncle pressed, and Eddie sighed heavily, looking at him with a frown in the middle of his forehead.

“How did you even see us?” He asked, only for Lucia to come by for a second, grabbing a napkin from the table, humming innocently. Eddie glared at her, a bit of annoyance displaying in his features. “Lucia…”

“Look, it ain’t my fault your uncle picked up a few words in Spanish. I saw you two while I helped him get dressed, and I said ‘Eddie se esta besando con una chica!’ and your uncle’s curiosity spiked.” The woman explained, and Wayne chuckled.

“I only caught the words ‘Eddie’, ‘kissing’, and ‘girl’. She helped me get up and see.” Eddie groaned exasperated, and Wayne nodded at Lucia for her to walk away and leave him alone with his nephew. She stepped away, her eyes on Wayne at all times if he needed anything at all. “Son…”

“Old man, I know what you saw but… it’s not that simple.”

“In all my years I’ve never seen you with someone. Not like that. Edward, you’ve never invited the people you spent nights with to my birthdays, nor yours.” He explained and Eddie felt trapped, as if someone was putting pressure on his back.

“It’s because she is in our friend group. That’s the whole reason for it.” Wayne sighed at the excuse, shaking his head at the stubbornness.

“Eddie… stop looking at it logically.”

Eddie’s eyes widened and he looked up to see his uncle smiling. He knew. He knew what was going on in his mind. Of course he did, Wayne was his family, his real father so to speak. Wayne knew him like the back of his own hand.

“I– I don’t know how it should really feel. I never told her–” Wayne nodded, and opened his mouth to talk, only for him to be called by his friends. He turned to look at Eddie for a second and he only smiled, “Go, we’ll talk later. I’m staying here for a few more days, remember?”

“Sure son.” He nodded towards Lucia, who came over to help Wayne go to his fishing friends. Eddie stared at his family and just sat there. He was playing with his fingers as he felt his entire body tensing with sudden nerves.

Why was everything so complicated? Why was he the complicated one? Why couldn’t it be easy for him to know when it was right? When everything made sense? It wasn’t fair that he didn’t know how it should really feel. It wasn’t fair.

His thoughts were interrupted when a hand was plastered on his back, making him jump up completely startled and defensive, grabbing the wrist of the hand that patted him.

“Whoa! It’s just me!” Dustin exclaimed, completely startled, putting his other hand up in defense. Eddie sighed and let go of him and his younger friend sat down next to him, grabbing a beer and popping one open. Eddie glared at him, squinting his eyes. “What?”

“Easy.”

“I have learned my ways. I am not a teenager anymore.” He said proudly, and took a long sip of the can, making Eddie sigh in defeat. He exclaimed his satisfaction with a long ‘ah’ and silence engulfed them for a few seconds. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I am.” Dustin gave a small encouraging smile and Eddie could feel the nervousness in his friend as he tapped his fingers against the can. “What’s going on with you?”

“Oh? Me? Nothing? Why would something be… wrong with me?” He said with a nervous fake chuckle, and Eddie frowned in question, the interest spiking.

“Henderson… what is it?” Dustin took a swig of his beer, looking down at the top of it, his fingers playing around the can. Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he waited; he rarely saw Dustin this nervous, even before when he was DM for the club.

“Um… I… I kinda have to tell you something, actually just kind of– wanting to get something off of my chest.” He confessed, and Eddie immediately looked around to make sure no one was around, his protectiveness over Dustin’s privacy growing.

“Alright… is it bad?”

“I– No, I mean, it is? It isn’t? I’m happy, so you would… suspect it isn’t bad, but…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Suzie and I broke up.”

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock because Dustin had always boasted about Suzie. He always talked about her as if she hung the stars in the sky for him. No one ever got to meet her thanks to her religion. Her parents never let her go on trips by herself, much less to meet a boy.

“Why?” He managed to ask, and Dustin sighed, taking a sip of his beer, Eddie following.

“Her religion. I… I adored Suzie, but… It wasn’t going to work out. She likes her religion, and I can’t force her out of it… Nor can she force me into it.” He explained and Eddie nodded in understanding, his heart turning a bit, knowing how much Dustin must have hurt from this.

“When did it happen?” He asked, and Dustin looked at him with a small smile, as if silently apologizing.

“A few months ago… It wasn’t something that I didn’t know was going to happen, Eddie. We both knew it was a matter of time.” Eddie was surprised to hear those words coming out of Dustin’s mouth, realizing just how much his freshman from school had grown up. Eddie patted his back in comfort, the younger man nodding as a thanks.

“Still, you could have called. You know we are here for you at all times.” He reminded his friend, and Dustin looked back down again, clearing his throat. Eddie’s eyebrows met in the middle as he saw a red hue appearing on Dustin’s ears.

“Yeah, I– Well… Someone kind of… comforted me…” Now Eddie was stunned, the words processing in his head because he understood what they meant, but he had a hard time grasping it.

“What? Who? Mike?” The younger man sighed and shook his head, clearing his throat as Eddie started noticing the nervousness that was building up in him.

“Not… Not Mike, no…” He then mumbled something really low under his breath, but Eddie only heard a hum. He moved a bit closer, his eyebrow raising in question at his friend.

“What? I didn’t catch that.” Dustin sighed and covered his mouth, mumbling again.

“... –ping… th– ne–”

“Henderson, I can’t fucking hear–”

“I’m sleeping with Jane! Jesus Christ Eddie!”

The older man’s eyes widened as he stared at Dustin. The poor guy covered his face, afraid someone had heard his outburst, but Eddie remained frozen. Jane…? His head turned to look at her, chatting away with Nancy with a smile on her face.

“I… but… She’s Mike’s ex–”

“I know.”

“And your friend.” And Dustin sighed and nodded.

“I know.” Eddie was still stunned as he looked at Dustin with a scrunched-up nose, and the younger one smacked Eddie in the arm, completely offended by his gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that!?”

“I’m sorry! It’s still hard for me to– To not see you as that weird fourteen year old who loved Alf, Henderson–” Eddie then gasped, pointing at him. “You lost your virginity with Jane–”

Dustin’s free hand flew to cover Eddie’s mouth, trying to shush him. The younger man was blushing a deep red, looking around to make sure no one was trying to come near them thanks to their antics. Eddie groaned in disgust as he pulled Dustin’s hand off his mouth, glaring back at him.

“Don’t say it so fucking loud, dickhead!” Eddie rolled his eyes, but warmth invaded his chest as he tilted his head for Dustin to continue. “I… I know… It’s fucking crazy– I mean, her and me, we know each other since… what, eleven?”

“Friends for a long time, yeah.” He was trying to understand his friend’s situation, wondering what was truly bothering him. “Are you conflicted because no one knows you’re sleeping with a friend’s ex or–”

“What, no! I know Mike wouldn’t have a problem with it… They broke up because Mike found himself, and Jane understood… It’s not really that…” Dustin’s eyes grew distant, and Eddie followed his gaze, only to see him looking at Jane. The air felt calm for some reason, as if the party around them was not happening.

“Then what is it?”

“We are hooking up… and it’s great…” He stopped for a few seconds, and Eddie saw how you approached Jane, offering her something to drink with a smile on your face. “But what if I don’t want to just hook up anymore?”

And Eddie froze for a second there.

The words banged into his skull like a rocket crashing into the moon. He frowned as his heart felt as if it were speeding up, his stomach turning the more he looked at you, the more Dustin’s words repeated inside his head. His mouth moved before he could process it.

“How do you know?”

“How do I know what?”

“How do you know you want more than just that? Maybe the sex is just… that great.” Dustin scoffed and that made Eddie lose focus on you to look back at his friend. His eyes never left Jane, not for a second.

“Because I want more than that… I want to hold her hand just because… Kiss her just because… Hug her just because… I want to go over there right now, and kiss her, in front of everyone so that people know she is mine.” Eddie stared at Dustin as if he had just discovered the library of Alexandria. He felt his body wave between hot and cold, sweats running all over him, his hair standing on end the more his younger friend’s words settled inside his gut.

“Isn’t that just you being possessive?” Dustin only chuckled at that, finally turning to look back at Eddie as if he had just told the greatest joke in the world.

“But that’s part of it. My possessiveness tells me just how much I want her to be mine and mine only.” And Eddie froze entirely, the wind moving the strands of hair in front of his face as Dustin talked. “Being possessive isn’t bad… if measured, it helps you show the other person how much you care.”

His eyes were wide, slowly turning his head to look back to where you were. Argyle and you were chatting now, and he was trying to make Will get a hit of his joint, and you were trying to bat him away. You turned your head just in time to catch him looking and Eddie didn’t turn away. He felt his heart clench as you waved at him, wincing in Argyle’s direction, asking silently for him to help you.

He gulped, his head turning to look at Dustin who was smirking at him, and before Eddie could ask, his friend got up from the chair, taking a sip of his beer, giving a triumphant ‘Ah’ as he finished it.

“I am for once the mature one.” He said and Eddie rolled his eyes, getting up from the chair and yanking Dustin’s small mullet with a harsh tug, making him yelp in a high pitched manner, making Eddie snort.

“Yeah, right.” Dustin pushed Eddie away, flipping him off with his middle finger, but Eddie couldn’t help the warm smile directed to his friend. He was indeed more mature than him today. Maybe had been for a while.

It would have been nice to grow up knowing what one truly wants. What your heart truly desires and not what your brain conjures up. To be told that everything could be a side effect. To be told that he couldn’t really be entirely normal, that his feelings were never going to be exact, or just like the others.

But when he looked at you once more, Dustin’s words started repeating themselves in his ears. Over, and over, and over again. You asked for help again with a mere look in your eyes, and he couldn’t help himself. His feet moved before he could control them, but he knew this wouldn’t happen with anybody.

No… He was only magnetized by you.

Hours had passed and the people started going back to their homes, leaving just a very few present, that included yourself, your party, a few neighbors, Wayne’s friends, and Lucia.

You were starting to put all the snacks in leftover tupperwares, knowing people had stopped eating by now, and you didn’t want the food to go soggy or bad. You felt a presence next to you, and you saw Harley bouncing on her feet a little bit. In her arms, laid her daughter, an eight month old baby, little gargles escaping her little lips. Looking at women in the pregnancy stages made you feel down, and you could admit that, but babies… Already born babies made you feel insanely fulfilled.

“I’m sorry, could you please hold my baby for a second? I have to help Lucia take down some of the decorations!” You had introduced yourself to her before in the night, but the baby then was inside her little egg crib, sound asleep.

“Oh, but don’t worry about it, I can help–”

“Nonsense, I’ve been sitting all day with the baby, and I didn’t help at all. Please, it’ll be a few minutes!” You blinked a few times as you felt you felt pressure on your chest, as if you were being squished. Your fingertips went a little cold, as you looked down at the baby. You held one baby in your life, and it was that same baby who made you realize you wanted to have kids.

You took a deep breath in as you raised your arms up, letting Harley pass the baby onto your arms delicately. You didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but when you looked down at the little thing, at those big orbs staring at you, you instantly melted. You smiled widely, your index finger reaching up to boop her nose, only for her to engulf it in her small hand.

“What’s her name?” You asked, and the mother was already rolling up the sleeves of her blouse.

“Sabrina! Okay, I promise I won’t be long! She is very friendly!” With that, Harley rushed away, leaving you behind with her baby as you saw her helping Lucia start cleaning up the tables. You looked at your friends who were all talking to each other, in their own world, and then your gaze fell back down to the sound of little gurgles in your arms.

She was so beautiful. So innocent and pure. Her life was to be written, miracles yet to happen to her. All the possibilities that could happen for her, all the people she’ll meet, and you were one of the lucky ones.

“She tried biting my finger off one time.” You heard a gruff voice say from behind you, making you snap out of your thoughts, quickly turning around, finding Wayne Munson smiling up at you from his wheelchair.

“Oh, this bundle of sunshine? No, she wouldn’t do that.” You cooed at the baby, who only smiled at your bunny kisses. The old man kept a smile on his face and he nodded to the chair next to him, motioning for you to sit down. You carefully sat down, getting comfortable with the baby in your arms.

“The most innocent-looking are the ones who turn out to be serial killers.” He joked, and you fake gasped, pretending to move the baby away.

“Do not listen to the old man, Sabrina, he doesn’t know a thing about cute, sweet princesses like you. How could you ever be a cannibal?” Wayne chuckled at your jokes and watched as you bounced the baby a little to keep her entertained. He inspected you, saw how you smiled at the little girl in your arms, and he couldn’t help himself.

“For how long?” You looked up at him, the smile still on your face.

“How long, what, sir?”

“For how long have you felt things for my son?”

Your world froze up, time stopped, and it even skipped. What did he say? What– Were you obvious? Were you too obvious? You hadn’t interacted with Eddie much today, so you didn’t know how he could have figured it out. Sweat ran all over your body like a waterfall, and it was by sheer luck that you remembered you had another human in your arms right now.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t–”

“Darling, don’t worry. I won’t tell.” You were frozen in fear, caught completely red-handed by none other than his own uncle, and you didn’t miss how he called Eddie his son. Wayne saw Eddie as if he were his own. Just like Eddie told you, he sees Wayne as his father. His pops.

“I’m… I–” You didn’t know what to say. You felt your entire face burning at thousands of degrees, and how were you supposed to navigate this situation? How were you supposed to handle this? Were you supposed to lie? To tell the truth? To act like he was insane? That would be mean given the circumstances, but…

At the lack of your response, Wayne straightened up, clearing his throat to snap you back into this world, noticing the nervousness that started building inside of you.

“One time, we were out fishing. Eddie was fourteen at that time. He didn’t like fishing at fucking all, let me tell you just that, but he tried for my sake and for us to share a hobby together.” He chuckled as he remembered the day, retelling it to you– “So I took him fishing with me. He tried, and tried to get the fish, until he started throwing a tantrum when it wouldn't catch.”

You giggled a little at the story, making Wayne turn to look at you, as if asking what you were laughing about.

“I’m sorry, it just… it sounds like him.”

“Why do you say that?” Wayne contained a smile as he looked at you, your eyes falling on the baby in your arms as it did grabby hands at you.

“He gets really mad whenever he isn’t right. He once couldn’t admit to me that pickles with peanut butter tasted good, just like I said.” You commented, remembering that day that Eddie discovered that strange snack of yours. He had called you nasty, for many days, making fun of you, only to find him in the middle of the night, eating them in the darkness of the kitchen.

“He has a really bad temper sometimes. And I could barely handle that boy’s sweet tooth.”

“I fucking know! Whenever he sees me make anything with chocolate chips, he would stand next to me–” and Wayne continued, finishing the sentence for you,

“– And make sure you put almost the entire bag inside!” You laughed as you nodded, his own chuckles following soon.

Silence then wrapped around the two of you, your eyes never leaving his. You felt like you couldn’t lie to him. You felt like this man deserved to know that someone wants to make Eddie as happy as he did. For some reason you wanted Wayne to know, it felt right to let him know.

“For a while.” You answered and Wayne nodded slowly, understanding. He could see truth in your eyes, and he could feel that you would never hurt his nephew. His family. He sighed, shaking his head.

“Kids these days. You’re too scared of the what ifs that you forget to live in the moment.” You snorted a bit at the old man kind of comment. But he was right, wasn’t he? “What are you scared of?”

“I’ve… been through a lot… I guess I just don’t want to end up hurt again…” You huffed, rocking the baby in your arms a bit, shaking your head. “Kind of pointless now that it already happened but…”

Wayne nodded, and he looked down at Sabrina, who was holding onto your finger as you pretended you were shaking her hand. He smiled softly as you cooed, made babbling noises with your mouth, and then he chuckled, catching your attention.

“Pointless…? No, feelings are never pointless. They dictate who you are, where you are, who you’re with, and where you’re headed. But one has to always face them, sweetheart.” You stared at the man for a while, a small smile forming on your lips as your heart filled with warmth.

“Now I know where Eddie got the pet naming from.”

“A Munson trait, sorry about that.” He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help the lump that formed in your throat, gulping it as you whispered to him.

“I really… I really like your son.”

Wayne couldn’t help the tears that formed in his waterlines, nodding at your words. He sniffled and held his hand out for you to grab. Your hand slowly held his, and you could feel the care in his touch, the plea.

“Then don’t let him be stupid.” He said with an order, and you sniffled, nodding at him. You opened your mouth, and he stopped you, raising his free hand. “I won’t tell him… He’s staying with me for a few more days. If I know of something, I’ll tell you.”

He winked at you playfully, and you couldn’t help the wet giggle that escaped you. Your friends were unaware of the interaction that was happening a few feet away from them, or that’s what you both thought.

Steve stood next to Eddie, a little farther from the trailer. They were having a small smoke break together, and they had been talking about Eddie’s stay, knowing he would be in Hawkins for a few more days to keep Wayne company.

“You know, I can always stay if you need me here. You know that, right? Eds?” Steve said, but received no response. He frowned, looking up from the ground to see Eddie no longer looking at him, but to the horizon, wide-eyed, almost as if he were seeing a ghost. He followed the line of sight, and Steve’s face softened as he realized what Eddie was looking at.

You were laughing with Wayne, and there was a baby in your arms. He felt lightweight, like nothing in the world mattered anymore. The world turned into clouds, the other people didn’t exist. It was just you, Wayne, him, and that baby. That baby who fits so well in your arms. That baby who pressed her hands on your face when you tried to give her a kiss. Your smile mimicked the baby’s as you two laughed at his Uncle making a face.

Everything felt serene. It felt right. It felt like this: if he wanted it, he could have it. He could, couldn’t he? He wanted it. He wanted it all. You were it all. He wanted everyone to know you were his, and his only. He wanted you to know he was yours, and yours only. He wanted to take you out, he wanted to plan things with you, he wanted to be true to you, he wanted it.

He wanted you, just like you were now, and he couldn't help but pretend you were holding his baby. Not a stranger's.

His uncle looked up, and he saw Eddie looking at you two. Wayne nudged your shoulder to get your attention, and once he did, he pointed at Eddie, telling you that he was staring. Eddie saw you giggle and whisper something to his uncle, only to then see the two of you raising your middle fingers up at him, snickering together. He wasn’t even mad about that. His chest only pressed harder on him. His heart hurt more, in every perfect way.

Steve huffed, not stopping Eddie when he saw him start walking away by his own accord. He walked towards you and his uncle. The two of you pretended to be innocently playing with the baby, as if you hadn’t just flipped Eddie off from a distance. Once he reached you two, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You two having fun mocking me or something?” Wayne rolled his eyes, his voice rough and dramatic.

“We would never do that.” You nodded at that with a small frown.

“Mhm, never ever!” Eddie’s heart tugged at him again, yet this time he didn’t fight it. Yeah, there was no need to fight it anymore, was there? The answer was here. He finally had it.

The baby suddenly cooed, and Eddie noticed her little hands trying to reach him, doing a grabby motion. He smiled, putting his arms out to tell you to hand him the baby. Your heart skipped many beats as you got up, handing the baby into his arms, and you were surprised when he handled her with such care.

His arm was underneath her, cradling her into him with ease as he wiggled his fingers on her cheek, causing her to giggle from the tickling. You bit your bottom lip as you stood next to him, looking down at the baby with a smile to your face. You were startled when he booped your nose, making you squeal a little, but that made the baby jump a bit in Eddie’s arms, scared.

And then she started crying.

Eddie gasped, his mouth wincing as he frowned, looking at you for help. You were glaring at him, stomping your foot at him.

“Now look at what you did!” You whispered in a yell to him, and he huffed, rolling his eyes your way, bouncing on his feet to rock the baby.

“I didn’t know you would react like a scaredy cat, Peach, how the fuck was I supposed–”

“Don’t curse!!! It’s a baby! She might catch on to it!” The baby’s cries kept going as you two kept bickering, but Eddie never once stopped rocking it, and you never once stopped trying to send funny faces between the words being exchanged.

And Wayne watched it all. He watched how his nephew was surrounded by his friends. He had support. He watched how the boy he took in and raised as his own son, turned out to be a good man. Eddie wasn’t perfect, no one really was. But Wayne didn’t want to leave without knowing Eddie would be okay.

And there’s you. He knew. Everyone would take care of Eddie, but Wayne had always hoped to find someone like you. He had always hoped that someone would care for Eddie in the same levels he cared for him. And he found that person. You were calling his nephew names, but Wayne knew you didn’t mean a single one of them.

Eddie would not be alone. He had trust that his nephew, his son, would not be stupid. That he would keep fighting, despite the fear. To keep grasping to the things he wants, and to never let go of them. Wayne knew he could do that with you.

He can finally say that it was all worth it. It will be worth it in the end. Because seeing Eddie smiling down at you without you noticing, tells Wayne everything he needs to know. Eddie would not give up on you, and he could have a moment’s peace knowing his son is going to be taken care of.

He could finally breathe.

He could finally relax.

Two days after his birthday, Wayne Munson passed away in the warmth of his bed, accompanied by his family.

end of chapter 24

a/n: im sorry.

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