#what a city name ffs

[obsessedbyneon]

Embassy Suites Hotel atrium landscape in Parsippany, New Jersey.

Scan

[mumbledramblings]

anyway

[damiemontclair]

When no kink at pride reaches doxxing of an organisation whose purpose is purely educational is when I know it what the right call not to show my face there...

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Silk Ribbons

maegor x niece!reader

Summary: Maegor crashes Aenys name day tournament which turns into more blood. He shows up unannounced to the feast where he gives all of his attention to Y/n before taking her back to Dragonstone.

Warnings: 18+ death, blood, blades, swearing, wine, bondage, oral (f receiving), p in v, it’s a maegor the cruel fic like wtf else can i say

Authors Note: this was a request from my bestie 🫣😮‍💨, pls i’ve never really read maegor ff so i hope i did him justice

Word Count: 4.2k

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Servants rush around the Red Keep trying to get everything in order for the feast being held later this evening in celebration of my father’s name day. I’m whisked out of the castle followed by guards who escort me to my carriage. There’s three raps on the wood before we jolt forward venturing into the city.

My father insisted I come to the tourney even though I personally have no taste for it. Instead, I would have been content to host a great ball that lasted days. I sigh and look out the window watching the common folk slowly make their way to the tourney grounds. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what all these people see in such brazen acts of violence, and in the name of my father of all people.

The carriage slows as we push through the tourney grounds opening gates. We come to a stop near the entrance and my door opens. My guard escorts me through the doors and up the stairs to find my seat.

“Come, you’ll sit in front of me and your father.” my mother waves her hand to me.

I sigh as I make my way to the front row of chairs. I know these are the best seats but I have no idea why my parents would think I would want them. I look across the arena and see the seats quickly filling up. My father pats my shoulder on his arrival as he places his hands on the rails to begin making the opening announcement.

“Welcome and thank you all for joining the celebrations for my name day. Good luck to the brave knights, may you fight and win with honor!” my fathers raises his hands and the crowd begins to erupt.

As my father makes his way back to my mother the first two knights are called to the sands. After I hear him sigh and take his seat I allow myself to look off into the clouds and daydream. I lean back in my chair and to anyone else I look as if I’m enjoying the fight but instead I’m dreaming of flying through the clouds on dragonback.

The duels continue as I let my mind drift away. The clashes of swords are turned into dragon songs and the shouts form commands. The announcer calls two new knights to the sands and the crowd goes hushed as a third knight enters the sands.

“Is he mad for coming here?” my fathers voice breaks through as he speaks to his guard.

I shake my head and scan the sands in front of me. The only thing that seems to be happening is the announcer speaking to the third knight. I tilt my head studying them as my father hushes his quick words to the guard. I gasp and grab my chest as the knight strikes the announcer in the face, who falls to the sand not getting up. Guards rush to the announcer as the knight stalks over to us.

“Brother,” the knights deep voice carries up to us. “I will have a place at this tournament.” he points his sword up to the box.

“Go back to Dragonstone, Maegor.” my father calls down to him.

I scoot up to the edge of my seat to try and look upon my uncle. I haven’t seen him in ages but it seems if his temperament hasn’t changed. I lean forward and peek over the rails at him as he rips his helmet off and throws it up at my father. My father ducks barely escaping the flying metal but trips over me in the process.

“Guards, get Y/n out of here.” my father fumes as he rises once more.

I’m pulled up by my arms and I quickly turn to look down at Maegor before they hide me away. Our eyes lock on one another quickly before the guard harshly pulls my arm, jerking my body. Maegors eyes narrow on the guard who’s currently tugging me away from him.

“You let that man handle her like that?” Maegors voice rumbles against the walls.

The guard pulls me down the stairs and we hear continued shouts coming from the hall. Loud footsteps stomp down the stairs and the guard begins to pull me away even faster. I sigh in relief as my carriage makes its way into my sight and I practically sprint to it. The guards hand loosens as hear a slash of metal through bone.

For a moment my breathing stops as I think I’ve been struck as I felt the shutter of the blade. My eyes widen as I turn and take in the scene. Maegor is standing there holding Blackfyre with the guards blood dripping off of it. I look down to my arm as the guards dismembered arm falls to the ground. My eyes then travel to the guard who is on the ground in a state of panic and shock before he goes completely still.

“He should not have touched you like that.” Maegor sheaths his sword, looking to the body at his feet with disgust.

“Uncle,” my voice trembles as steps over the guard and comes to tower over me.

“You’ve become so beautiful, Y/n.” he brings fingers to ghost over my cheek.

My breathing intensifies at his gentle touch after he showed such violence. My eyes dart to the body behind him and he grabs my chin and forces me to look to him. His smile borderline predatory as he begins to lean down. My eyes go wide the closer his mouth comes to mine until he turns his head quickly to whisper something into my ear.

“Maegor you bull, what have you done?” my fathers voice booms behind us as he looks in horror at the guard.

“Did you not see the way your own guard was pulling her. She’ll have bruises come morning. Is this how a Princess should be treated?” he turns to my father tilting his head.

“Please do not use my daughter as an excuse for your wanton brutality.” my father storms over to him.

“Aenys, you don’t want this fight.” Maegors hands go to my father’s shoulders.

I don’t know what leads me to do it, but I place my hand on Maegors arm. He turns and looks down to me curiously as he allows me to remove his hands from my father. I turn to my father who looks from where my hand is placed on Maegor to me.

“Daughter, step away from him.” my father warns.

My hand slips from his armor as I slowly step back to my carriage. Maegor watches every step I take as my father watches him. I slip into the carriage and shut the doors behind me. I sigh out in relief and slide down into my pillowed seats.

The carriage begins to move and I look out my window to see Maegor watching as I’m pulled back through the city. I begin to fan myself off hoping the adrenaline will start to wash away. I find myself blushing at his words of calling me beautiful even though I shouldn’t. I’ve always secretly wished he would see me in that light instead of a child. His temper terrifies me, but Gods he is so handsome.

Once we make it through the gates of the Red Keep I’m escorted directly to my chambers. I huff claiming a chair not wanting to be sequestered here all day. After an hour I pick up a book to hopefully lose myself to another world until the feast begins.

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“Princess,” my mother’s soft voice lulls me out of my nap.

“No, did I miss the feast?” I quickly rise from the chair in a panic.

“I’ve come to check on you and to see if you still wanted to attend after today’s events.” she grabs my hand to rub soothing circles on it.

“Of course I want to go to the feast. They have been making my gown for almost a full moon.” I whine.

“I figured as much.” she chuckles as she goes to the doors to allow my handmaidens flood in.

I’m quickly stripped of my dress and lead over to the bath. Lavish oils and soaps are brought out and I hum in relaxation as I’m pampered to. My hair begins to be brushed and secured out of my face by a pale pink ribbon. I rise out of the tub when the water turns tepid and begin to dry off. I’m offered a new slip that seems to be made of the same silk as my ribbon.

I gasp as my gown is brought in for me to finally look upon. The gown is white but with all of the beading it looks as if it’s the soft pink of a morning sunrise. It fits closer to my body than I had originally thought but when looking in the mirror I admire it even more. The beads fade into crystals that flow up the neckline. They offer me a close fitting crystal necklace that brings out the rest of the details in the gown. After they place my earrings I’m guided out of my chambers and down to the dining hall.

“You look absolutely lovely.” my mother smiles as I join her on the dias.

“They outdid themselves with this gown.” I look down to admire it.

I take a sip of wine and take in the life and merriment around me. I look down to my father who seems happy enough but I can still see the lingering frustration. Servants come out and fill our plates once everyone has found their seats. The doors to the hall groan open and my father’s face turns red as Maegor saunters in.

“May I sit next to you, Y/n.” Maegor licks his lips looking down at me.

I nod my head as he pulls the chair out loudly next to me. Servants rush to fill his cup with wine as he continues to look at me. I feel my cheeks heat and I quickly turn back to my plate. I can feel my father’s eyes on me but I don’t have the courage to look anywhere besides my plate.

“You look ravishing in this dress.” Maegor purrs lowly.

“Thank you,” I murmur willing my cheeks not to tint as I take a sip of wine.

“Will you let me take it off of you later?” I cough at his low his words.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” my fathers voice laced with worry at my sudden coughing fit.

“Yes,” I nod clearing my throat attempted to offer him a smile.

My father huffs as we return to our meal. It seems as if the whole hall is blind to the tension radiating from our table. Laughter and toasts are shouted across the hall and all I can think of is Maegor who has slowly been inching his chair closer to mine. I try to ignore his closeness until his thigh is pressed against mine.

“Is there something you needed?” I turn and blink up at him.

“You,” his voice low as he looks down at me with dark eyes.

“Maegor-“

“Come, let’s dance.” he rises above me and offers me his hand and I can see my father turn to us with a scrunched brow.

I place my hand in his palm as his fingers engulf mine. He pulls me down to dance as a new song begins. He pulls me flush against his body and I squeak in surprise. His hand continues to hold mine while his other goes firmly to my lower back. My hand rises to his chest as I look up to him.

He holds me possessively as he stares down any man who looks too closely. My eyes land on my father who is currently seething next to my mother who looks worried. I squirm in Maegors arms as his fingers trail up my spine and bury themselves into my hair. He tilts my head so I’m looking up at him as a smirk spreads across his face.

“You’re going to ruin my hair.” I whine breathlessly.

“Apologies,” he chuckles as his hand slides down to rest on my neck.

We continue to sway to the music and I allow my hand to travel across the expanse of muscle that is his chest. I can feel the dips and definitions through his doublet and can’t begin to imagine what they look like in all their glory. I feel his laugh rumble in his chest before I hear it. I tilt my head as I look up to him.

“Do you enjoy my muscles?” he smiles down at me.

“You’re just so strong.” I whisper as I squeeze his bicep allowing my hands to travel the muscle hidden beneath his sleeves shamelessly.

I gasp as he lifts me into the air as my hands wrap around his neck. He begins to walk towards the main doors while I look over his shoulder and see my father shoot to his feet. He looks to us in confusion and doubt until he sees our path is to exit. He shouts to the guards but it’s too late. I can’t help the excitement and adrenaline that flows through me.

He gets us out of the Keep through a back way I’ve never seen or heard of. Before I know it he’s pulling us on a horse and racing us to the outskirts of the city. I feel the low grumbling of the ground before my feet even touch it as Maegor lifts me back to the ground. My breath escapes me as I behold Balerion.

“Maegor,” I look to him with wide eyes.

“You’ll always be safe when you’re with me.” his words are soft as he begins ushering me over to the rope to climb his massive dragon.

He climbs directly behind of me which offers me some semblance of comfort. As I reach the saddle my head spins as I look down. Maegor settles behind me and quickly grabs the reins. Balerion rises to his full height as I tremble in his arms. He begins to break into a run as we start to take flight.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

We are soon circling Dragonstone as Balerion lets out a fearsome growl. As he descends on the rocky shore some of them begin shaking in his presence. Once we settle I soon realize he wasn’t just shaking the ground, he was waking Vhagar. Gods these dragons make the Red Keep look like a cottage.

Once we make it to the sands he grabs my hand and we begin our walk into the castle. As we make it to the main doors I begin to make out the image of Visenya. She smiles to me but glares to Maegor.

“What have you done, you fool?” she looks to him.

“Found a bride. You told me I should marry and secure my line.” he shrugs as I gape at him.

“It seems as if this is the first time your bride is hearing of this.” he replies curtly.

“Well I planned to woo her with my tongue for a couple of hours before I asked.” his words cause a blush to creep up my neck.

“Must you be so foul?” Visenya scoffs at him. “What is your plan for when Aenys comes to get her?” he raises her eyebrows.

“He’d be a fool to face me. We will be wed on the morrow. He can’t take my wife away from me.” he pulls me closer to his side.

My head is spinning with this discussion. I feel as if I don’t have a say in the matter but I’m not upset at the outcome. I worry for what my father and mother will think but they’ve been asking me to marry for years. I shake my head trying to bring myself back to the present as Maegor begins pulling me into the castle.

He rushes us up the stairs and seals us behind a set of double doors. He turns and stalks over to me grabbing at my waist and pulling me to him. He looks down to me as his hands move to the back of my gown.

“Do not rip this gown Maegor. It took almost a moon to make.” I try to make my voice sound firm.

“Mm,” his fingers begin to slowly unlace the back of my gown.

His fingers ghost along my back as he loosens the gown. He steps back and pushes the gown down my shoulders causing it to pool around my feet. I’m left in my silk slip and I begin to feel as if I’m left in nothing by the way he’s looking at me. One of his hands goes to my hair and pulls the ribbon out causing my hair to cascade down my back.

“Do you always match your hair piece with your slip?” he asks lowly as he trails the ribbon along my arm.

I shake my head not trusting my words as I shiver under his touch. His hand travels back down to my waist and splays across my bare thigh. I look up to him with low lids as his hand begins to move to my inner thighs. I grab on tightly to his arm as he trails a finger along my slit. My breaths come out in pants as he continues his journey through my wetness.

“On the bed.” he looks down to me as he removes his hands.

I compose myself enough to turn and walk to the bed. I crawl to the middle of the bed and lay on my back as he begins to crawl over me. His hand trails up my body with my ribbon following. He dips down and when I think he’s finally about to kiss me he whispers into my ear.

“Hands above your head.” I whimper at his words and do as I’m told.

He brings my ribbon up to my wrists and secures them to the headboard before he rises above me. He looks at me with a sinister smirk and I clench my thighs in anticipation. He hums as he looks at me completely at his will. He stalks around the bed looking at me before he settles next to me.

His hands trail up my bare leg as he lifts my slip with his hands and bunches it up above my breasts. He groans as he takes in my body and his hands begin to travel over every inch of skin. My eyes shut as his hands continue to snake around my body pulling soft whines from me.

“Maegor,” his name falls from my mouth as he pinches one of my nipples between his rough fingers.

“Mm, you like a little pain?” he coos as his other hand cups my other breast roughly.

A moan tears through me as I squeeze my legs shut. He chuckles lowly as I begin to feel his beard across my chest as he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth. My chest arches up into his mouth as his teeth tease my sensitive bud.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun.” he says arrogantly as he blows on my nipple.

He trails sloppy kisses down my torso and begins to pepper kisses along my hips. My hips jerk up as his tongue begins to dance on my hot skin. He spreads my thighs and groans as he’s greeted by my wet core. He dives down and his tongue begins to lap at my clit. My hands tug at the headboard causing it to groan as he chuckles into me.

My hips grind against his face seeking more pleasure until his hands land on my hips stilling me. He attacks my clit with his tongue as a moan tears through me as pleasure bursts through my body. He looks up to me from between my thighs licking his lips.

My chest is rapidly rising and falling between us and he dips back down to my sensitive core. He offers soft licks at my clit sending jolts through my body as he teases a finger at my entrance. He slowly pushes a thick finger into me ripping a moan from my lips.

“Maegor, please,” I whine as he slowly starts to pump his finger slowly.

His tongue swirls against my clit as his finger starts a fast rhythm. My thighs try to close around his head again but this time he ignores it as he focuses on my pleasure. As my whimpers fall faster he slowly starts to add a second finger. I cry out as I clench around his fingers and allow him to pull pleasure from my body.

His name is the only word that falls from my lips as I come undone around his fingers. He continues pumping into me as my legs quake around him. He pulls back and hoovers above me with a wet beard. My legs shut once he rises off the bed and I look to him with low lids.

“You will be my wife.” It is a statement as he pulls off his shirt.

“Yes,” I nod still trying to catch my breath as I drink in his bare chest and the muscles that he’s showing off.

“Say it.” he says lowly as he begins to unlace his trousers.

“I will be your wife.” my voice unwavering.

He pushes his trousers the rest of the way down and crawls above me on the bed. His hands spread open my thighs once more as he settles between them. I gasp as I feel him glide through my wetness. He dips down and I crane my neck hoping to finally kiss him. He smiles and pulls back much to my frustration.

“Maegor,” I whine.

“Yes?” he chuckles as he kisses across my chest and makes his way to my neck.

“Untie me, please, I want to touch you.” my voice needy as I arch my body into his.

“Since you asked so nicely.” he sucks on my neck as he slowly unties my wrists.

My hands fly to his bare skin caressing and feeling every muscle I can reach. His hips slowly rock into mine causing him to slide against my clit. My nails dig into his shoulder as he bites down onto my neck. He raises his head above mine and I move my hands to his neck to hopefully pull him down into a kiss.

The second his lips touch mine I melt into him completely. My fingers travel to his short locks as I pull him closer to me. Maegor groans as he slowly begins to push into me as a sigh falls from my lips. I’ve never felt this full before. He looks down at me with a furrowed brow and I can tell he’s holding back until I can fully adjust. Once it becomes tolerable I move my hips and he snaps his back into mine.

His pace is brutal that has my eyes rolling into the back of my head. Moans and whimpers fall from my lips as he pounds into me seeking pleasure. His lips find mine again and his tongue begins to lash against mine. He pulls back and looks at my face as his fingers begin to circle my clit.

“Maegor, Maegor please,” I sob as I come around him while he continues to push into me.

His lips crash to mine roughly as his hips repeatedly snap into mine. His teeth catch my bottom lip as I cry out. My fingers claw at his arms for support as he continues to pull pleasure from me. His trusts become sloppy as his fingers make their way back to my clit again. My vision blurs as I explode around him once more. He settles deep in me as I feel him begin to fill me.

“So fucking good for me. My perfect Princess.” he grunts as he continues to grind his hips into mine.

“My husband,” my words barely audible as I continue to cling to him.

He flips us over remaining in me saying he wants to be as close as possible. My body and mind too tired, I simply let my eyes flutter shut as I drift off to sleep.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌

[novaursa]

Web of Gold (addendum)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Paring: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: honeymoon

- Next part: rook's rest

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @purple-1995 @thisbiann @whiteoakoak

The gates of King’s Landing swung open with a grand flourish as you and Aegon returned from your whirlwind tour of the realm, greeted by the thunderous cheers of the gathered crowds. Banners fluttered in the breeze, the sigils of both Targaryen dragons and Lannister lions emblazoned proudly on the fabric, while the people shouted their king’s name.

Aegon, ever the showman, soaked it all in with a wide grin, waving dramatically to the people as though he had just conquered the Seven Kingdoms single-handedly. You, perched beside him on horseback, had to stifle a laugh. For all the pomp and spectacle of this homecoming, you could tell Aegon was already itching to extend the party.

As you rode through the streets, the capital bursting with energy, Aegon leaned toward you, his grin widening. “Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with excitement, “I’ve decided. We’re not done celebrating yet. We’ve shown the rest of the realm how to have a proper feast—now it’s time for King’s Landing to see what real revelry looks like.”

You raised an eyebrow, though you could already sense where this was heading. “Aegon,” you said, half-amused, half-cautious, “we’ve been feasting for weeks. Surely the court could use a break.”

Aegon shook his head, waving off the notion as if it were absurd. “Nonsense! The people deserve a celebration fit for a king—and queen,” he added with a wink. “We’ll carry on the festivities for the rest of the moon! Feasts, tourneys, music in every corner of the city! They’ll be talking about it for years.”

Before you could respond, the gates to the Red Keep came into view, and the sight of the familiar walls made your stomach flip slightly. You could already imagine the look on Alicent’s face when Aegon announced his grand plans.

Sure enough, not long after you dismounted and entered the throne room, there stood Queen Alicent, her face set in a stern frown as she waited for the two of you. Otto Hightower stood beside her, his expression unreadable but his fingers steepled in that calculating way of his. And just beyond them, Aemond loomed in his usual silent, brooding manner, his single eye watching everything with an intensity that never seemed to fade.

As you and Aegon approached, Alicent wasted no time. “Aegon,” she began, her voice tight, “I trust your tour went well, but it’s time to return to the business of ruling. The capital cannot afford to indulge in more distractions.”

Aegon, still riding high on the enthusiasm of the crowds, waved a hand dismissively, his smile unfazed by her scolding tone. “Oh, Mother, lighten up! The people love a good celebration, and we’ve been giving them the best across the realm. It’s only fair that King’s Landing gets to enjoy the same.”

Alicent’s frown deepened, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Aegon, the treasury is not bottomless. Another month of feasting and revelry will stretch our resources thin. We must be responsible.”

Aegon scoffed, leaning back against the nearest pillar as though the very idea of restraint was foreign to him. “Responsible? What’s more responsible than keeping the people happy, hmm? A happy people don’t rebel, Mother. Besides, we’ve got plenty left in the coffers.”

Alicent opened her mouth to argue further, but before she could get a word in, Otto Hightower cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. His eyes flicked between you and Aegon, and to your surprise, his lips curled into a small smile.

“Aegon is right,” Otto said calmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority. “The celebrations have been well-received across the realm. They have strengthened alliances and fostered goodwill. Extending the festivities here in the capital would solidify that image. A generous king is often a beloved one.”

Alicent shot her father a sharp look, her displeasure obvious. “Father, the court—”

Otto raised a hand, silencing her. “The court will adjust. We can manage the expenses for another moon. This is a time of transition, and maintaining the support of the realm is paramount.”

You glanced at Aegon, whose grin had only grown wider now that his grandfather had weighed in on his side. He turned to you, his expression triumphant. “See, Y/N? Even Otto agrees with me. The feasting continues!”

Alicent’s lips pressed into a thin line, clearly torn between her frustration and her inability to counter Otto’s logic. You could practically see the internal battle playing out behind her eyes. Finally, she let out a sigh, though it was filled with exasperation.

“Very well,” she said, her voice tight. “But keep it within reason, Aegon. The court cannot afford your excesses forever.”

Aegon beamed, clearly taking that as an outright victory. “Of course, Mother. Reasonable revelry. I can do that.”

You bit back a laugh, knowing full well that “reasonable” and “Aegon” rarely went together, especially when wine and celebrations were involved.

As the conversation moved on to other matters of state, Aemond approached, his usual brooding expression firmly in place. He stood beside you, his presence silent but somehow more intense than anyone else in the room.

“You’ve returned, I see,” Aemond said, his voice low as he glanced at you, the edge of his mouth quirking ever so slightly. “I trust Aegon kept you… entertained.”

There was something in the way he said it that made you smirk. “Entertained? That’s one way to put it,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “It was certainly more… lively than I expected.”

Aemond huffed a quiet laugh, though his gaze remained fixed on the gathering. “I can imagine. My brother never does things by halves.”

You smiled, glancing sideways at him. “And you, Aemond? I imagine you would have preferred a more… subdued tour?”

Aemond’s eye flicked toward you, the corner of his mouth curling slightly. “Perhaps. But sometimes it’s necessary to indulge in… excess. When the occasion calls for it.”

There was a brief pause, a moment where the weight of your words—his words—hung between you, unspoken but present. Aemond’s eye lingered on yours for just a beat longer than was necessary before he turned his gaze back to the court.

Meanwhile, Aegon, now fully engrossed in discussing the details of his extended celebration with Otto, called out over his shoulder, “Come, Y/N! We’ve got a feast to plan. Tourneys, music, and of course, more wine! We’ll make this a month to remember.”

You gave Aemond one last, lingering glance before moving to join Aegon, the smirk still playing on your lips. King’s Landing was in for quite the spectacle—though you had a feeling the real entertainment had only just begun.

The festivities in King’s Landing were in full swing. The courtyard of the Red Keep was alive with music, the clatter of goblets, and the sound of laughter. The scent of roasted meats and fresh bread wafted through the air as courtiers danced, drank, and mingled under the golden glow of torches.

Aegon was, unsurprisingly, at the center of it all. His goblet of wine was never empty, and his laughter echoed through the courtyard as he moved from one group of guests to another, basking in the glory of his extended celebration. You stood by his side, entertaining the courtiers with your charm and grace, though your attention occasionally drifted to the antics unfolding around you.

Aemond, as was his habit, stood on the sidelines, his brooding presence a stark contrast to the revelry around him. He watched the festivities with a quiet intensity, his single eye scanning the crowd, though every so often, his gaze seemed to linger in your direction just a bit longer than usual.

It didn’t take long for Aegon to notice.

He was halfway through another story—one you had heard more times than you could count—when he suddenly paused, his grin faltering for a moment as he caught Aemond looking your way. His brow furrowed slightly, and he turned his head to squint at his brother, his expression somewhere between confusion and suspicion.

You raised an eyebrow, wondering what had caused Aegon’s sudden silence, but before you could ask, he leaned closer to you, his voice low but loud enough to catch the attention of anyone nearby.

“Is it just me,” Aegon slurred, his tone a mix of amusement and indignation, “or has my dear brother been stealing glances at my beloved wife all night?”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden accusation, and glanced over at Aemond, who stiffened slightly, his posture going even more rigid than usual. His eye narrowed, and for a moment, it looked as though he was about to brush off the accusation with his typical icy calm. But instead, he responded, his voice more defensive than even he likely intended.

“I was not stealing glances, Aegon,” Aemond said, his tone clipped, though the way his eye darted between you and Aegon betrayed a hint of unease. “I was merely… observing.”

Aegon, clearly emboldened by the wine, let out a loud, exaggerated gasp and clutched his chest dramatically. “Observing? Oh, dear brother, that sounds an awful lot like admiring to me!” He leaned closer to you, his arm snaking around your waist as he grinned wickedly. “I knew it! You’ve been eyeing my beautiful queen this whole time!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though you tried to stifle it, glancing over at Aemond, who now looked as though he wanted to throttle Aegon or possibly sink into the nearest shadow and disappear. His jaw clenched tightly, and he met Aegon’s gaze with a steely glare.

“Aegon,” Aemond said through gritted teeth, “I have no interest in your drunken fantasies. You’re imagining things.”

But Aegon, now fully enjoying the moment, wasn’t about to let it go. He grinned even wider, clearly thriving off of Aemond’s discomfort. “Oh, I don’t think so! I see the way you look at her—like a cat eyeing a piece of cream. You’ve always had that brooding look, but this…” He gestured between the two of you with his goblet, sloshing a bit of wine onto the floor. “This is something else entirely.”

You glanced between the two brothers, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Aegon was clearly playing it up, but the way Aemond’s usual cool facade had cracked just a bit was… well, more amusing than you cared to admit.

Aemond straightened, his expression darkening as he stared down at Aegon, who was now swaying slightly but still grinning like a mischievous child. “You’re drunk,” Aemond said flatly. “As usual.”

“And yet!” Aegon hiccupped, pointing a finger dramatically in Aemond’s direction. “Even in my drunken stupor, I can see it clear as day! My own brother, pining for my wife! Oh, the betrayal! The scandal!”

You finally let out a laugh, shaking your head as you placed a hand on Aegon’s arm, trying to calm him down. “Aegon, you’re being ridiculous. Aemond isn’t pining for anyone.”

Aemond shot you a brief, grateful glance, though his jaw was still set tight. “Precisely. I have better things to concern myself with.”

But Aegon, in full performance mode now, wasn’t about to let the matter drop. He turned to the crowd of courtiers, raising his goblet high as though addressing the entire realm. “Ladies and gentlemen! My own brother, the fearsome Aemond Targaryen, reduced to a lovesick puppy!” He paused for dramatic effect, his grin widening even more. “Do you think he’s jealous of my charm? My wit? My—”

“Your lack of self-control, perhaps,” Aemond cut in, his voice sharp, though his eye gleamed with a hint of amusement now. It seemed that even he couldn’t entirely resist the absurdity of the situation.

Aegon waved him off, laughing. “Oh, come now, brother! Admit it! You’ve been watching her all night, haven’t you?”

Aemond’s eye flickered toward you again, just for a brief moment, and then back to Aegon. His lips pressed into a thin line, but finally, he let out a sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit.

“I was observing,” he repeated firmly, his voice calmer now. “Not pining.”

Aegon threw his arm around you, pulling you close and grinning like he had just won a great victory. “Ah, well, as long as it’s only observing, I suppose I can forgive you. After all, I’d be staring too if I weren’t already married to the most beautiful woman in the realm.”

You rolled your eyes, patting Aegon’s chest as you tried to gently pull away from his overly enthusiastic embrace. “That’s quite enough, Aegon. Let’s not make a spectacle out of your brother.”

But Aegon, never one to miss an opportunity for a little more drama, held up his goblet in a mock toast. “To my brother, Aemond, the most observant man in the realm! May he continue his not pining for many more years to come!”

Aemond huffed, though a ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he raised his own goblet in a grudging toast. “To Aegon,” he said dryly, “and his complete lack of sense.”

The courtiers, sensing the tension ease, burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but join them, shaking your head as Aegon leaned in to press a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

As the night continued, the tension between the brothers faded into the background, but you couldn’t help but notice that Aemond’s gaze lingered on you just a little longer than before. Whether it was “observing” or something more, well, that was a matter for another night.

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller's ff) - chapter 3

chapter 2 | series masterlist | main asterlist | chapter 4

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're at your wits' end with joel. so you have to do something about it.

warnings: 18+. nsfw. mdni. mention of sarah's death. probably absolute filth. some slapping. explicit smut with a plot. softdom!joel. biting. masturbation (m and f). finger sucking. unprotected piv. a bit of ass play. pet names (darling, sweetheart). sir kink. a slight breeding kink. some violence towards the end. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 36. no use of y/n. joel's and reader's pov.

a/n: buckle up, my friends. i apologise in advance, but this has been coming for the last two chapters lmao. who am i to deny them? no one. all interactions welcome! enjoy and thank you all for reading! <3

w/c: ~3k.

It had been a week since Joel almost lost his mind, and he still couldn’t comprehend what had possessed him to do such a thing. For a split second he had lost control of his own actions and gave in to his yearning. A yearning for human connection he did not know he had. The last few months had been living hell, to say the least.

Every time he closed his eyes to try and sleep, Joel could only see Sarah’s face. Her smile, her warm hugs, her giggles, her vivacity. And then, the light abandoning her eyes, her blank expression, her limp limbs as he would press her dearly against his chest. The desperation he felt then had still not deserted him. He had been a man of God because that was what his family had imparted him, but since Sarah’s death his faith was wavering. Why would God take her away from him? Sarah was an angel sent from above, she should have not suffered such demise. So, either God was a cruel entity, or an imaginary one.

That night Joel did not even attempt to get some rest so decided to do the first night shift instead. They were still at the same cave as it had proved to be a good spot to rest up and plan what their next steps would be. Tommy had suggested they checked out the quarantine zones the government had set up in big cities, but Joel was not so keen on the idea. In the last nine months since the outbreak, they had been witness to too many ungodly acts ― all committed by the living, not so many by the dead.

That was why they were in Ouachita National Forest, further north than what they were a few months ago. They were still debating whether they should head towards Kansas City, Chicago or remain in the wilderness. Although resources were scarcer, so were the clickers. They had not encountered too many people either, which, considering their past experiences, it was a good thing. No one could be trusted anymore.

Joel sat down on a tree stump by the entrance of the cave, rifle on hand. He had his worn-out, unbuttoned military jacket on as temperatures dropped considerably after sunset. The night was so quiet it felt eerie. He could not see anything when he looked up as the treetops fully covered the night sky. He assumed it would be a starry night, clear of clouds. He kept his mind occupied with made-up scenarios to avoid drifting away into Morpheus’ world.

Hours had gone by when Joel heard the slight twitch of a branch from behind him. He rapidly stood up, gripping the rifle with tension. When he turned around and saw you, he clicked his tongue with disdain.

You were too sleepy to pick up on his rude gesture. You stretched your back, which hurt like hell. You had tried to fashion some sort of cushioned bed with leaves and grass, but your makeshift bed was still hard as a rock.

“What time is it?”, you asked grumpily.

“Not sure, around four in the morning?”, he answered without looking at you while he sat back down.

“You have a wristwatch, don’t you know how to read the time?”, you said sneeringly to get some sort of reaction out of him.

“Huh, you’re so fucking funny I’d laugh if I could”, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “It’s broken”.

You looked at him in silence, as you had done many times in the last week. You didn’t understand how this man could kiss you like the world was ending and then, a second later, he would pretend you were nothing more than an annoying moth flying around him.

It infuriated you. He infuriated you.

He was there as if nothing had happened between the two of you, while you just woke up because of a very realistic dream. Or should you say a nightmare? Your body had some unreleased, built-up tension that was damn hard to ignore. You blamed Tommy for interrupting you ― had it not been for him, you might have known what it felt like to be under Joel. Or on top of him.

You shook your head, angry at yourself and at the man in front of you.

“Sure is, I bet they didn’t teach you how to read the time when you went to school, hmmm, when? Back in the 50s?”, you teased again.

He stood up, leaving the rifle on the ground, leaned against the stump.

“Seriously, what is your fucking problem?”, he growled, his fists tightly closed on his sides.

Finally ― a breakthrough.

“My problem?”, you chuckled. “You are my problem, Joel Miller. Are you telling me you have forgotten about what happened a week ago, huh?”, you ventured.

“What happened a week ago was a mistake, that is what it was. I don’t even know what kind of demon possessed me, because I wouldn’t even touch you with a ten-foot pole”, you could almost hear his teeth grinding against each other.

His words hurt you, but they made you even madder. Who did he think he was anyway?

“You are a fucking mistake. And what you say is complete bullshit. Do you think I have not noticed how you look at me when you believe I’m not paying attention? You pretend you are not interested, but you need a goddamn reality check if you really think so”, you snapped back, the palms of your hands tingling ― you wanted to punch him so bad.

“You are frigging delusional, darlin’. You are the only woman I have seen in the last few months, it’s not like I have much to choose from, do I? It was a desperate move, nothing else. Stop imagining things―”.

That was it. He had crossed a line. So you slapped him to shut him up. His rugged face turned ninety degrees with the force of your blow. His cheek reddened slightly.

And then you grabbed him by the neck of his flannel shirt, forcing down his face towards you so he would not have time to react. You were going to prove him who was right ― and it wasn’t him.

You kissed him, separating his lips with your tongue. You outlined his top teeth with the tip of your tongue and then he let you in. You would have smirked if you could. You mapped out his whole mouth with quick but insisting twirls, Joel following your lead. You helped him remove his jacket.

One of your hands was still holding onto his plaid shirt while the other travelled south. You could swear Joel had stopped breathing, but you distracted him by breaking the kiss and looking at him with intent. His lips were parted and wet with your spit, slightly red. You grazed the prominent bulge on his jeans with the palm of your hand, biting your bottom lip down when he heavily sighed with some relief before he trapped your mouth with his again.

You let go of the flannel shirt to work on the buckle of his belt, unfastening it with some difficulty. Joel groaned loudly when you pulled down from the brim of his jeans to bring them down just below his ass, giving you plenty of access. One of Joel’s hands darted to your neck, circling your throat with the span of his fingers and squeezing lightly. Not to the point where you couldn’t breathe, but to the point where it made the whole experience even more pleasurable.

You moaned while your hand trespassed the elastic of his underwear and dipped your fingers down. You grabbed his manhood, already hard and leaking from the tip. You smiled as your thumb rubbed the precum against his sensitive skin and then slowly started to pump him. You had not seen his cock yet, but judging by the girth of it, you were not to be disappointed. You put some pressure on his shaft before upping the rhythm of the pumps.

“Fuck it, fuck this”, Joel wailed as he broke off the kiss.

For a second, you thought he was going to push you away.

His mind was spinning like a Ferris wheel coming off its hinges. He was mad, utterly mad. He shouldn’t but wouldn’t stop. Not now when you had enticed him this far. His dick was pulsing in your hand, and he was panting like a thirsty dog which had not tasted water in days.

He grabbed your adventurous hand and forced you to take it out of his briefs. Then he pushed you towards a fallen tree nearby. Joel was right behind you, his manhood hard pressed against your ass as he bit your neck, then pecking it where he had marked you. He took off your shirt before you could complain. You wore no bra, so when the cold air touched your sensitive nipples, you sighed. Joel’s hands were resting on your hips, but both quickly moved upwards until they gently cupped both of your breasts. He massaged them with care while he left a path of kisses on the side of your neck.

Then his left hand ventured south at the same time he twirled your right nipple between his fingers. You whimpered audibly when he dunked two fingers in your wet slit. He traced you up and down, your knees trembling with delight. Your cunt was so soft with your own fluids that it felt like velvet. Joel wondered how it would taste if he flattened his tongue against the damp skin and fucked you with his tongue. He groaned at the thought, and instead he paid special attention to your clit with his dextrous fingers. Your back arched, your ass touching his bulge ― you unconsciously wiggled your hips to grind on his cock. Then he tested your entrance with one fingertip, circling it slowly, while your bottom lip was quivering.

“You want this?”, he said in a coarse voice.

You nodded.

“Speak up, sweetheart”, he demanded.

“Yes, please, sir”, you whispered.

You closed your eyes and suspired loudly when his ring finger got greedily engulfed by your dripping hole. He started slowly, then fingered you relentlessly with two digits, to the point where you had to grasp his wrist to steady yourself. He curved them towards the front of your insides, stroking the right spot. You couldn’t help but watch as his fingers disappeared between your soaked folds. Your mouth shaped a perfect ‘O’ before you let go and came violently on his fingers. But Joel gave you no truce, he carried on masturbating you until you orgasmed twice more in quick succession with tears in your eyes. Your cunt was gushing for him ― you could feel the trickle of your cum going down your inner thighs. Your knees bended and you almost fell to the floor, but Joel held you by your hips with the firm embrace of his right arm.

“Good girl”, he purred in your ear, offering you his wet left hand.

You wrapped both of your hands around his wrist to hold it in place and sucked on his fingers with wanton need, his digits touching the back of your throat. You showed him explicitly what you would do to his throbbing dick if you had the chance. You licked him clean, tasting yourself on him.

Joel understood exactly what you were doing, feeling the tip of his cock touching his lower belly. He pushed down your trousers and underwear in one swift movement. Joel placed one hand on your back to make you go down on your knees. You kneeled on the ground, and he did so behind you. You put your hands down on the fallen trunk and looked over your shoulder for a minute. Joel had freed his dick, and he was holding it from the base. For a moment you wondered if it would fit, and you bit down your lip at the idea. You felt hypnotised by the sight, pondering how it would feel against your tongue, its glans pushing past your uvula, suffocating you.

“Lean forward for me, darlin’”, he muttered, and you happily obliged with dreamy eyes.

You rested your left cheek against the fallen log in between your hands, ass up in the air. You heard the rustling of leaves as Joel positioned himself right behind you. He placed his hands on your butt cheeks and cracked them open to have a peek. Joel groaned at such blissful picture. He could see your pussy literally throbbing for him, beckoning him like a siren a sailor. What a sight to see, he thought. With a pained huff, he let go of your buttocks and guided the tip of his dick to kiss your entrance. You hissed with pleasure. Finally, you thought. But he didn’t go in ― instead he trailed the tip of his cock along your slick cunt a few times.

“Joel, please, I beg―”.

“Shh”, he hummed at the exact time he went back down to your needy hole and pushed in his tip. Your flesh parted to make way. Your pussy was aching for him, burning to feel him inside. You have never felt this aroused in your life.

He took his sweet time, caressing your clit again as he went in inch by inch until his whole length was inside you. He stayed there for a long minute, letting you get used to him filling you up entirely. Your pussy choked his manhood at irregular intervals ― you just couldn’t control your own muscles anymore. It felt like heaven for both of you.

Then he moved back slowly, his shaft almost slipping out before he pushed back in with brute force. Joel freed your clit from his touch to grab your hips and started fucking you mercilessly. He found a devilish rhythm and you just went along with it. Both of your moans could be heard from yards away, as well as the squelching sounds coming from where you two connected ― luckily for you, Tommy slept like a log.

The roughness of the wood scratched the skin on your cheek, but you didn’t care. It felt too good. Your fingers clutched, trying to hold on to something as your body was being rocked by Joel’s thrusts, an orgasm creeping up on you. And then you came again, almost screaming into the dead of night, like you never came before. You could feel your whole cunt squeezing him uncontrollably, your clit burning with electricity. You felt extremely overstimulated, but you let Joel ride you to find his own release.

Joel’s eyes had rolled to the back of his head ― he had never felt this horny before. This damn woman ―you― was doing something to him, albeit he didn’t know what. He felt your inner walls tightened firmly around his cock and he almost lost it. Every time he locked eyes on where you two met, seeing his shiny dick pulling out of you, he thought you the most beautiful woman in the whole world.

His balls were so tense he feared he was going to spill his seed in you. But he found the last bit of sanity within him ― as much as he would love to claim you for himself, he couldn’t. And so, he pulled out just in time, lodging his shaft between your buttocks. He put his hands on each side of your ass to squeeze his manhood in the fold of your skin. He leaned forward, his chest against your back, to bite you between your shoulder blades before straightening himself again. Joel pumped himself a couple of times in between your buttocks and came on you abundantly. What a waste, you thought out of nowhere.

Both of you stayed in the same exact position for a hot minute, breathing heavily with effort. You were the first one to move, although your limbs felt like jelly. You grabbed some leaves and cleaned the cum off your lower back as Joel watched you avidly.

Joel stood up and pulled up his briefs and jeans, while his mind was racing with doubt. He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have let it go this far. What was meant to be a lesson for you, ended up being a lesson for himself too. Concealing his concern, he offered a hand to help you get up. You gladly took it and proceeded to clothe yourself again, being fully conscious of Joel’s hungry gaze.

You smiled at him.

“That was fun―”.

“A mistake”, he cut you off before you could say anything else.

You were left speechless. What did he just say?

“Are you fucking shitting me right now, Joel?”, you shouted at him. “Because if you are joking, I swear to God I will―”, your anger was raising up fast.

“No, I ain’t joking, we shouldn’t have done this. You don’t understand, I’ll just get you k―”.

“JOEL!”, you screamed at the top of your lungs when you suddenly saw a man a few yards behind him.

Before Joel could grab the rifle, a gunshot was heard and impacted on Joel’s right shoulder. He fell to the ground in agony, and you hastened to kneel beside him. Blood was quickly soaking his flannel shirt.

“No, Joel, please―”, then you felt someone pulling your hair back and yelled in pain. “Let go of me, you jerk!”. It was a different man.

The first man who had shot at Joel came towards you. Joel tried to sit up to fight back, but the man with the gun hit him in the head with the grip of the weapon and Joel fell back down on the dirt.

He was not moving. Was he dead? No, he couldn’t be. You felt the bile rise up in your throat but managed to hold it.

“Joel, Joel―”, you said with tears running down your cheeks.

“Shut up, bitch”, said the second man before slapping you.

You fought them back with all you had, but in the end, they hit you in the head too, rendering you unconscious, and dragging you away.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

Statistics of Apollo's Lovers

I was wondering just how unfortunate of a love-life our boy Apollo had, so - as one does - I did the research, math, and writing of said love-life.

such is the life of an adhd teen :)

In total, there are 59 people on this list. I have them separated into eight groups; Immortal, Immortal & Rejected, Lived, Died, Rejected & Died, Rejected & Cursed, Rejected & Lived, and who were Rejected by Apollo

Disclaimer: I am not a historian nor an expert in Greek Mythology, I am just a very invested nerd in Mythology, and in Apollo's mythology in general, and got curious about what his rap sheet actually looks like.

Sidenote: There will be some "lovers" not on this list. Reasons being;

No actual literary sources behind them

Said literary sources are dubious at best

Not enough information is given about the nature of their relationship to make an accurate take

So if somebody isn't on this list, it's because of one of those three reasons. Although there is still a chance I missed somebody! :)

Also, no RRverse lovers include in this list. Sorry my fellow ToA fans.

*I am currently missing about 4 other lovers, and will get them on here ASAP. Their inclusion, however, will not change the overall conclusion. 👍

(Edited 08/15/24 - ALL SECTIONS SOURCED)

Let's begin! :D

Immortal Lovers

Calliope: muse of epic poetry. Mother of Hymenaios and Ialemus (Pindar's 3rd Threnos) by Apollo.

Clio: muse of history

Erato: muse of love poetry

Euterpe: muse of music

Polyhymnia: muse of hymns/sacred poetry

Melpomene: muse of tragedy

Thalia: muse of comedy. Mother of the Corybantes (The Bibliotheca by Pseudo-Apollodorus) by Apollo.

Terpsichore: muse of dance

Urania: muse of astronomy

Boreas: the North Wind. The Boreads called Apollo "beloved of our sire" in Apollonius of Rhodes's Argonautica.

10 lovers total here.

9 Female, 1 Male

Immortal & Rejected

Hestia: goddess of the Hearth (Hymn to Aphrodite)

1 Interest. Female.

Lovers Who Lived:

Branchus: mortal shepherd, gifted prophecy (Conon's Narrations 33 & Callimachus's Iambus)

Rhoeo: mortal princess, eventually married an apprentice of Apollo (Diodorus Siculus's Bibliotheca historica 5.62 and Tzetzes on Lycophron 570)

Ourea: demigod daughter of Poseidon, dated Apollo during his punishment with Laomedon; had a son named Ileus, after the city of Troy (Hesiod's Catalogues of Women Fragment 83)

Evadne: nymph daughter of Poseidon, Apollo sent Eileithyia & (in some texts) the Fates to aid in their son's birth (Pindar's Olympian Ode 6)

Thero: great-granddaughter of Heracles, described as "beautiful as moonbeams" (Pausanias's Description of Greece 9)

Cyrene: mortal princess-turned-nymph queen, kick-ass lion wrangler, and mother of two of Apollo's sons - Aristaeus (a god) and Idmon (powerful seer) (Pindar's Pythian Ode 9.6 ff. and Nonnus's Dionysiaca and Callimachus's Hymn to Apollo 85)

Admetus: mortal king, took great care of Apollo during his second punishment, Apollo wingmanned him for Alcestis's hand - basically Apollo doted on him <3 (Callimachus's Hymn II to Apollo and Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 1.9.15 and Hyginus's Fabulae 50–51, and also written about by Ovid and Servius)

Hecuba: queen of Troy, together they had Troilus.

It was foretold that if Troilus lived to adulthood, Troy wouldn't fall - unfortunately, Achilles murdered Troilus in Apollo's temple. When the Achaeans burned Troy down, Apollo rescued Hecuba and brought her to safety in Lycia. (Stesichorus's Fr.108)

Hyrie/Thyrie: mortal. mothered a son by Apollo. Their son, Cycnus, attempted to kill himself after some shenanigans and his mother attempted the same. Apollo turned them into swans to save their lives. (Antoninus Liberalis's Metamorphoses 12 and Ovid's Metamorphoses 7.350)

Dryope: mortal. had a son named Amphissus with Apollo, who was a snake at the time. Later turned into a lotus flower, but it had nothing to do with Apollo so she's still on this list. (noncon; written by Ovid in Metamorphoses 8 CE/AD and later by Antoninus Liberalis in his own Metamorphoses sometime between 100-300 CE/AD)

Creusa: mortal queen. had a son named Ion with Apollo (Euripides's Ion). Please check out @my-name-is-apollo's post for more details because they make some good points about what's considered "rape" in Ancient Greece. I expand on this further at the end of the post.

Melia: Oceanid nymph. Had a son w/h Apollo named Tenerus. (Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 9.10.5–6)

Melia was said to be kidnapped, and her brother found her with Apollo. He set fire to Apollo's temple in an effort to get her back, but was killed. Melia and Apollo had two kids - but here's the interesting part. Melia was highly worshiped in Thebes, where her brother found her. She was an incredibly important figure in Thebes, especially when connected with Apollo. She and Apollo were essentially the parents of Thebes.

As I read over their story, it sounded like (to me, at least. it's okay if you think otherwise!) that Melia just absconded/eloped with Apollo.

Was kidnapping an equivalent to assault back then? Perhaps. But it's still debated on whenever or not that's true. However, one thing I've noticed reading up on these myths is that when Apollo does do something unsavory, the text says so.

It never says anything about Apollo doing anything to Melia. Her father and brother believe she was kidnapped, but, like mentioned previously, it seems far much more likely that she just ran off with her boyfriend or something.

But that's just my interpretation.

Moving on! :)

Iapis: a favorite lover. Apollo wanted to teach him prophecy, the lyre, ect. but Iapis just wanted to heal :) so Apollo taught him healing :) (Smith 1873, s.v. Iapis)

Aethusa: daughter of Poseidon & the Pleiad Alcyone. Mother of Linus and Eleuther. She is the great-great grandmother of Orpheus. (Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 3.10.1 and Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 9.20.2 and Suida, s.v. Homer's Of the Origin of Homer and Hesiod and their Contest, Fragment 1.314)

Acacallis: daughter of King Minos. there's a lot of variation on whether or not she had kids with Hermes or Apollo. Some say she had a kid with each. (Stephanus of Byzantium, s.v. Kydōnia (Κυδωνία and Scholia on Apollonius Rhodius, 4.1492)

Chrysothemis: nymph queen who won the oldest contest of the Pythian Games - the singing of a hymn to Apollo. She had three daughters, and one of them is said to be Apollo's. (Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 10.7.2 and Hyginus's De Astronomica 2.25)

Corycia: naiad. had a son with Apollo. the Corycian Cave north of Delphi is named after her (Hyginus's Fabulae 161)

Leuconoe (also Choine or Philonis): daughter of Eosphorus, god of the planet Venus, and mother of the bard Philammon. (Hyginus's Fabulae 161) She was killed by Diana for her hubris.

Melaena (also Thyia or Kelaino): mother of Delphos, member of prophetic Thriae of Delphi. Priestess of Dionysus. (Herodotus's Histories 7.178.1)

Othreis: mothered Phager by Apollo, and later Meliteus by Zeus. (Antoninus Liberalis's Metamorphoses 13)

Stilbe: mother of Lapithus and Aineus by Apollo. (Diodorus Siculus's Library of History 4.69.1 and Scholia on Apollonius Rhodius, 1.40 and Scholia on Apollonius Rhodius, 1.948)

Syllis (possible same as Hyllis, granddaughter of Heracles): mothered Zeuxippus by Apollo. (Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 2.6.7)

Amphissa: Apollo seduced her in the form of a shepherd. They had a son named Agreus. (Ovid's Metamorphoses 6.103 and Hyginus's Fabulae 161)

(hey, has anybody else noticed that 'Apollo disguising himself' seems to only be a thing in Roman literature?)

Areia (or Deione): had a son named Miletus. Hid him in some smilax. Her father found him and named him. (Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 3.1.2)

Arsinoe: she and Apollo had a daughter named Eriopis. (Hesiod's Ehoiai 63 and Scholia ad Pindar's Pythian Ode 3.14)

Queen of Orkhomenos (no name is given): Mother of Trophonius (Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 9.37.5)

(my fellow ToA fans will recognize that name haha).

Hypermnestra: Either Apollo or her husband fathered her son Amphiaraus. (Hyginus's Fabulae 70)

(sidenote: @literallyjusttoa suggested that Apollo was dating both Hypermnestra and Oikles, and I, personally, like that headcannon)

Manto: Daughter of Tiresias. Apollo made her a priestess of Delphi. They had a son named Mopsus. When Apollo sent her to found an oracle elsewhere, he told her to marry the first man she saw outside of Delphi. That man turned out to be Rhacius, who brought her to Claros, where she founded the oracle of Apollo Clarios. (Apollodorus's Bibliotheca E6. 3)

Later, another man named Lampus attempted to assault her, but was killed by Apollo. She is also said to be a priestess who warned Niobe not to insult Leto, and to ask for forgiveness. Niobe did not. (Statius's Thebaid 7 and Ovid's Metamorphoses 6)

(Dante's Inferno places her in the eighth circle of hell, and let me just say- what the FUCK Dante! What did Manto ever do to you, huh??!! Don't do my girl dirty!!)

Parthenope: granddaughter of a river god. Mothered Lycomedes by Apollo (Pausanius's Descriptions of Greece 4.1)

Phthia: prophetess. called "beloved of Apollo". Mother three kings by him; Dorus, Laodocus, & Polypoetes (Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 1.7.6)

Procleia: Mother of Tenes, son of Apollo, who was killed by Achilles before the Trojan War. Daughter of King Laomedon, king of Troy. (Apollodorus's Epitome 3. 26)

Helenus: prince of Troy. Received from Apollo an ivory bow which he used to wound Achilles in the hand. (Photius's 'Bibliotheca excerpts')

Hippolytus of Sicyon: called "beloved of Apollo" in Plutarch's Life of Numa. I don't think this guy is the same as Hippolytus, son of Zeuxippus (son of Apollo), king of Sicyon Pausanias talks about in his Description of Greece. That would be a little weird taking the whole family tree into account - though it's never stopped other gods before. *shrug*

Psamathe: nereid, said to be the personification of the sand of the sea-shore. (Conon's Narrationes 19)

She and Apollo were lovers, but never had any kids. When another man assaulted her, she had a son and abandoned him.

(He was found by some shepherds dw - wait, he was then torn apart by dogs. Nevermind.)

Back to her, her father ordered for her to be executed and Apollo avenged her death by sending a plague onto Argos and refused to stop it until Psamathe and Phocus/Linus (her son) were properly given honors.

(I really like how even though Linus isn't Apollo's kid, and that Psamathe wanted nothing to do with the kid, Apollo still considered him worth avenging too <3 )

Okay, in a previous incarnation of this post, I said there was a version where she is raped by Apollo...however, I can't find any sources to back it up😅 Even her wiki page doesn't mention rape, and Theoi's excerpt of Paunasias's Descriptions of Greece about her doesn't either.

So where did I hear about this supposed version? (Don't shoot)

Youtube. A youtube video about Apollo. Yeah...

Lesson, kids! Don't trust youtube videos on mythology! Yes, even if they dedicated lots of time to it! They can still get things wrong! In fact, don't even take my word for it! Do your own research <3

Alright. 34 lovers here.

5 Male. 29 Female.

33 are 100% consensual. Creusa is questionable, depending on who's translating/which tradition you go with.

Lovers Who Died:

Hyacinthus*: mortal prince. we all know this one, right? Right? one and only true love turned into flower (okay that's my bias speaking but AM I WRONG?) (Plutarch's Life of Numa, 4.5; Philostratus the younger's Imagines; Pseudo-Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 1.3.3; Ovid's Metamorphoses 10.162–219; Bion's Poems 11; and various pieces of art)

Cyparissus: mortal. his DEER DIED and he asked Apollo to let him MOURN FOREVER so he was turned into a cypress tree (Ovid's Metamorphoses X 106ff)

Coronis: mortal princess. cheated on Apollo w/h Ischys, who in Fabulae was killed by Zeus. mother of Asclepius. killed by Artemis. (Pindar's Pythian Odes 3.5; Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 2.26.6; Hyginus's Fabulae 202; Ovid's Metamorphoses 2.536 and 2.596; Hyginus's De Astronomica 2.40; Isyllus's Hymn to Asclepius 128.37 ff.)

There is another version of Asclepius's birth given by Pausanias in Descriptions of Greece 2.26.1-7, where Coronis exposes him on a mountain and Apollo takes him in.

Adonis: yes, THAT Adonis. he's in this category because. well. he died. rip (Ptolemy Hephaestion's New History Book 5)

Phorbas: Okay so Apollo's lover Phorbas and another Phorbas sometimes get mashed together so this is what I was able to gather.

Plutarch's Life of Numa 4.5 and Hyginus's De Astronomia 2.14.5 cites Phorbas as Apollo's lover. The other Phorbas is said to be a rival to Apollo in the Homeric Hymn to Apollo. Personally, I separate the two because it makes more sense with Phorbas the lover's overall story.

Here it is: The island of Rhodes fell victim to a plague of dragons or serpents, and the oracle said to summon Phorbas for help. He defeated the infestation, and after he died, Apollo asked Zeus to place him in the stars, and so Phorbas became the constellation Serpentarius, also known more widely as Ophiuchus (a man holding a serpent).

FORGET ORION AND HIS ONE-OFF MENTION OF BEING DIANA'S LOVER HERE IS A CONSTELLATION TRAGIC LOVE STORY!!!!!

(*Hyacinthus was resurrected, as celebrated in the Hyacinthia festival in Sparta. Nonnus's Dionysiaca 19.102 and Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 3.19.4 supports this belief as well.)

5 lovers.

4 Male. 1 Female. All consensual.

Sidenote: QUIT BURYING THE GAYS GREECE!!!!

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Died:

Daphne: do i nEED to say anything? Nymph. turned into tree to escape.

Daphne and Apollo actually go back a bit. Their story was used to explain why the laurel was so sacred to Apollo. It's in Delphi, Branchus planted laurel trees around the temple he built to Apollo, the laurel was even sacred to Apollo's historical forebearer Apulu, an Etruscan god! (I have sources to back this up :3 along with an Essay.)

Apollo & Daphne first originate from Phylarchus, but we do not have any of his work :( It's been lost to history...a moment of silence RIP. He was a contemporary in the 3rd century BC/BCE (first day of 300 BC/BCE and last day of 201 BC/BCE).

He was, however, cited as a source in Parthenius's Erotica Pathemata, written sometime in the 1 century AD/CE (sometime between 66 BC/BCE and the author's death in 14 AD/CE).

Then they show up again in Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece, written between 150 AD/CE and 170 AD/CE.

Hyginus wrote his Fabulae sometime before Ovid's because it's widely criticized to be his earliest work and Ovid wrote his Metamorphoses in 8 AD/CE.

The first two versions are roughly the same, and Ovid's shares similarities with the first in only the ending. Hyginus is basically like Ovid's but without Eros.

So in publication order, it's; Erotica Pathemata, Fabulae, Metamorphoses, then Descrip. of Greece.

In Erotica Pathemata, Daphne is the daughter of Amyclas and is being courted by Leucippus. She is not interested in any sort of romance. Leucippus disguises himself as a girl to get close to her, but his ruse is revealed when Apollo nudges Daphne and her attendants into taking a bath in the river. Leucippus is consequently killed.

Apollo then becomes interested and Daphne runs away, imploring Zeus that "she might be translated away from mortal sight", and is transformed into the laurel tree.

In Fabulae, Daphne's story is a bit more familiar. She's the daughter of Peneus, the river god, and Gaea is the one who transforms her into a laurel tree.

In Metamorphoses, Eros is added to the story and is the reason why Apollo is so enamored and Daphne is so repulsed.

(I would just like to say that in this version, it was 100% nonconsensual for both of them! And I don't mean with rape- Apollo never touches Daphne in any of these version. What I mean here is that Eros maliciously makes Apollo chase down a woman and makes sure Daphne would be repulsed by him. That is noncon behavior there on both sides.)

In Descriptions of Greece 10.7.8, Daphne is the daughter of Ladon and her and Apollo are only connected by way of why the laurel crown is the victory prize of the Pythian Games. However, in Descriptions of Greece 8.20.2-8.20.4, Daphne and Leucippus make an appearance here too, but Apollo is not the reason why they stop to take a swim and his ruse is revealed, resulting in his death.

Castalia: Nymph. turned into spring to escape.

First things first, Castalia was used to explain the existence of the Castalian Spring in Delphi. However, in the Homeric Hymn to Apollo, the spring is already there when Apollo was born. So there's that to consider first.

Anyway, to escape Apollo's advances, Castalia transforms herself into a spring. (Lactantius Placidus's On Statius's Thebaid 1.698. This was written between Lactantius's lifespan of c. 350 – c. 400 AD/CE, placing it firmly in Roman times.)

2 Interests.

2 Female.

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Cursed

Cassandra: mortal princess. Received the gift of prophecy from Apollo. Due to a broken oath, she was then cursed. (Aeschylus's Agamemnon)

It is only in Roman-era tellings where Cassandra is cursed for not sleeping with Apollo, and there was no oath made (Hyginus & Pseudo-Apollodorus). In Agamemnon, it was done so because of the broken oath- not the refusing to sleep with Apollo thing.

The version where she gains prophetic abilities by way of a snake licking her ears is not part of Greco-Roman literature, but rather by an American poet.

Nevertheless, even after the curse Cassandra still loved Apollo, and called him "god most dear to me" in Eurpides's play The Trojan Women.

1 Interests.

1 Female.

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Lived

Sinope: mortal. there are two different version of her myth.

In Diodorus Siculus's Library of History 4.72.2 and Corinna's Frag. 654, Apollo "seizes" her and they have a son named Syrus.

In Apollonius's Argonautica  2.946-951 and Valerius Flaccus's Argonautica 5.109, it is Zeus who abducts her, but she gets him to promise her anything and requests to remain a virgin. He obliges. Later, Apollo and the river Halys both try to charm her, but fall for the same trick.

Library of History was written between 60-30 BC/BCE, Apollonius's Argonautica between 300 BC/BCE and 201 BC/BCE, and Valerius Flaccus's Argonautica between 70-96 AD/CE, making Apollonius's version the oldest and Valerius Flaccus's the youngest.

Marpessa: mortal princess, granddaughter of Ares. Idas, son of Poseidon, kidnapped her and Apollo caught up to them. Zeus had Marpessa chose between them, and she chose Idas, reasoning that she would eventually grow old and Apollo would tire of her. (Homer's The Iliad, 9.557 and Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 1.7.8–9)

Bolina: mortal. Apollo approached her and she flung herself off a cliff. He turned her into a nymph to save her life. (Pausanias's Description of Greece 7.23.4)

Ocroe/Okyrrhoe: nymph and daughter of a river god. asked a boatman to take her home after Apollo approached her. Apollo ended up turning the boat to stone and the seafarer into a fish. (Athenaeus's The Deipnosophists 7.283 E [citing The Founding of Naucratis by Apollonius Rhodius]. The Deipnosophists was written in the early 3rd century AD, between 201 AD and 300 AD)

Sibyl of Cumae: mortal seer. promised to date Apollo if she was given longevity as long as the amount of sand in her hand. he did, but she refused him. (Ovid's Metamorphoses 14)

5 Interests. All female.

Okyrrhoe's story is the only one with any iffy stuff, although, when something iffy does occur, the text usually says so outright.

Rejected by Apollo:

Clytie*: Oceanid nymph. turned into a heliotrope to gaze at the sun forever after the rejection.

1 Advance. Female.

(*Clytie's story was originally about her affection for Helios. [Ovid's Metamorphoses 4.192–270; Ovid used Greek sources about the etymology of the names involved, meaning Clytie and Helios go back to Greek times] As Apollo got superimposed over Helios's myths, people have assumed it is he who is the sun god in her myth and not Helios.)

In Conclusion...

59 people total, and 33 of them have Roman-Era roots with (as far as I know!! Don't take my word as gospel truth!!) no relation to Greece except by way of shared mythology.

Here's the list:

Rhoeo

Thero

Hyrie/Thyrie

Dryope

Melia

Aethusa

Acacallis

Chrysothemis

Corycia

Choine

Thyia

Othreis

Stilbe

Syllis

Amphissa

Areia

Queen of Orkhomenos

Hypermnestra

Manto

Parthenope

Phthia

Procleia

Helenus

Hippolytus of Sicyon

Psamathe

Cyparissus

Adonis

Phorbas

Castalia

Sinope

Bolina

Ocroe/Okyrrhoe

Sibyl of Cumae

Meaning, 56%- and really, it's more like 57%, because Clytie is not Apollo's lover at all- of the lovers listed on this post are not entirely Greek in origin (AS FAR AS I KNOW-)! That does not mean ofc that you have to ignore them. I, for one, really like the story of Rhoeo, and Manto, and Psamethe- I find their myths sweet (Rhoeo & Manto) and bittersweet (Psamethe).

Let's get to the calculations now, yeah?

59 people total (Includes Clytie)

48 Women (81%). 11 Men (19%).

19% were Immortal (Including Lovers & Rejected)

68% Lived (Including Lovers & Cursed & Rejected)

14% Died (Including Lovers & Rejected)

1% were Cursed

2% were Rejected by him

58 people total (Not Including Clytie)

47 Women (81%). 11 Men (19%).

19% were Immortal

69% Lived (Lovers & Cursed & Rejected)

12% Died (Lovers & Rejected)

in that 12%, one was apotheosized - Hyacinthus.

Meaning 10% died permanently, while 2% were resurrected.

2% were Cursed

0% were Rejected by him

Additionally, I left off three male lovers and two female lovers - Atymnius, Leucates, Cinyras, Hecate, & Acantha.

Atymnius has no references to being Apollo's lover, only to Zeus's son Sarpedon. (Wikipedia why do you even have him listed? You need sources smh)

Leucates is another male "lover" left off the rack - apparently he jumped off a cliff to avoid Apollo, but I couldn't find any mythological text to account for it- and no, OSP's wiki page is not a reliable source. There is a cliff named similarly to him where Aphrodite went (by Apollo's advice) to rid herself of her longing for Adonis after his death. Also Zeus uses it to rid himself of his love for Hera before he...well, commits adultery again. 🤷

Cinyras was a priest of Aphrodite on the island of Cyprus. He was also the island's king. Pindar calls him "beloved of Apollo" in his Pythian Ode. However, looking further into Cinyras's life throws a bit of a wrench into it. He's also cited to be a challenger to Apollo's skill, and either Apollo or Mars (Ares) kills him for his hubris.

(honestly, I kinda like the idea that Mars went into Big Brother Mode)

I did consider leaving him on the list, since technically you could argue it was a romance-gone-bad, but among every other source Cinyras is mentioned in, Pindar's the only one who puts a romantic label on him and Apollo.

Plus, he’s been described as a son of Apollo too, and I personally like that more lol

Hecate, the goddess of magic and crossroads, is said to be the mother of Scylla (like, the sea-monster) by Apollo, but Scylla's parentage is one of those "no specific parents" ones, so I left her off the list.

Acantha has absolutely no classical references. There's a plant like her name, but she's made-up, so she doesn't count. *stinkeyes the guy who invented her and claimed his “sources” were reliable when they really aren’t*

(Of course, I could be wrong about any of these. Again, I'm not an expert.)

With all this in mind, this means Apollo's love life actually isn't as tragic as media portrays it, and he isn't as bad as Zeus or Poseidon in the nonconsensual area.

Does he still have those kinds of myths? Yes, with Dryope and Creusa; though, we can discount Creusa because;

1) Depends on who's translating it; and

2) Ion is given different parentage in the Bibliotheca, which yes, came much after Ion, however Xuthus was traditionally considered to be Ion's father rather than Apollo. This means there was probably a different oral tradition on Ion's parentage that just wasn't written down as early as Euripides's was- in fact, it may even just be an invention of Euripides's.

(and honestly Apollo's characterization in Ion just doesn't quite match up with the rest of his appearances in the wider myths (in my opinion, at least))

So that leaves us with just Dryope, who comes from Ovid, a Roman poet, and Antoninus Liberalis, a late Greek one.

Now I'm not saying we should throw her out because of Ovid's whole "wrote the gods even more terribly to criticize Augustus" thing, but it is something to keep in mind. Political mechanics have been used to change myths before, and this is certainly one example of it.

Additionally, I have seen many people discard Dionysus's rapes in the Dionysiaca because of how late it was written, so this one can be given similar treatment if one choses too because of just how late Ovid and Antoninus Liberalis's work was.

You can, in fact, pick and chose if you wish, especially if it'll increase your enjoyment of literature. That's certainly what I do :)

So overall, I'd say Apollo has a rather clean relationship past. He's doing pretty damn good.

Also, I think we should all take note that even if Apollo had noncon myths, that doesn't reflect on the actual god. The Ancient Greeks did not see the myths as "canon" to their gods- in fact, some were not happy with the myths showing the gods in such a light.

That's something else to keep in mind. The gods of the myths are not the gods of Greece, and are more like parables or fables for the Ancient Greeks I'd say. Lessons on morality and such, and of course, warnings against hubris and the like.

This was quite the journey, and I really hope you all enjoyed reading and learning with me! This really makes me wonder- if Apollo's love life is this good, I wonder how misinformed we are on everyone else's? I have no plans on doing Zeus or Poseidon or anyone else (not for a LONG time lol, this took a lot of effort and research!), but if anyone has any idea, or gets inspired to do something like this for any other god, please tag me!! I'd love to see it! :D

And since this was on a previous reblog, here be a meme from a while ago:

[ID: Me Explaining Me. On the left is a girl with her hands up, fingers pinched together, like she's intensely explaining something. The text over her says "Me giving a detailed diatribe about Apollo's love life and how modern media has done him and his lovers dirty". On the right is the girl's mother, wrapped up to her chin in a blanket, with a look on her face that screams "I hear this all the time". The Mother is labeled "My family". /End ID]

suffers in I'm the only mythology nerd in the family

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Oct 16th

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1. Hello! I would like to reread a story but forgot the title. It’s a fix-it I think lan zhan was thrown back in time in CR study arc and wei ying saw it because there’s a light and he hear a shout then Lan Zhan was unconscious. Thank you so much

FOUND? in a dream, i was home by thelastdboy (M, 25k, WangXian, POV LWJ, Canon Divergence, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds, Time Travel Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Different First Meeting, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Sentient Burial Mounds, CSSR and WCZ Live, Families of Choice, Protective LWJ, Everybody Lives, Temporary Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Golden Core Reveal, Fluff, Developing Relationship, Wen Remnants Live, WQ Lives, WN Lives, No Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX)

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2. Hi I saw someone ask this here but never saw the fic. I'm looking for a fic, It's where lwj leave the sect gives money and valuables to the wen remnants and lxc ask for rabbit as some kind of compensation. Op said some girls were braiding lwj hair by the end being vain and lan sect saw this. Thank you so much I hope you help me

FOUND?🔒Unpack Your Heart by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 22k, wangxian, Romance, Everybody Lives, Canon Divergence, LWJ Has Feelings, Protective LWJ, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, Wangxian in Love, YLLZ WWX, Lan Clan Elders are Assholes, Minor Transgender Character, Qiongqi Path Divergence, LWJ loves his bunnies)

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3. hi there!!! this is for the next fic finder. i am looking for a twt threadfic which had wwx and lwj as academic rivals. i really don't remember much of it except there was a moment where lwj says smth really mean to wwx after he got lesser marks than him, and wwx starts crying a bit (???) and lwj is like Oh No What Have I Done. that was the last update that i read and idek if there's more or not. can anyone help?

thank you everyone!!

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4. I am trying to find a Fic where Lan Zhan goes to Lotus Pier to ruin them for being rejected. He learns that Wei Ying never rejected him but Madum Yu did. She is punished and Lan zhan asks Jiang Yanli permission to marry Wei ying.

FOUND? Warrior Prince by QteCuttlfish (M, 3k, WangXian, Threats of Rape/Non-Con Angst with a Happy Ending, Omega Verse, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Implied Mpreg, Not Canon Compliant)

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5. Hi! I’m looking for this modern college E fic where WWX is like a tatted punk and he overhears that LWJ is basically a sex god who didn’t do seconds. He hears that LWJ is into a guy in his department with last name Wei and confronts him. They bone and he sees that LWJ has a nip piercing and a tattoo that WWX designed a while ago tysmia

FOUND? So I love you because I know no other way than this by Trueredhearts (E, 20k, WangXian, Modern AU, CSSR and WCZ Live, College/University, Tattoos, Nipple Piercings, Genital Piercing, Law Student!LWJ, Engineering Student!WWX, Childhood Friends, Explicit Sexual Content, Graduate School)

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6. Hi 👋 a ff where lan Zhan give wei Ying name wei Wuxian. Wei Ying lock BS in her mountain. Wei Ying Sect leader. BM all clear. JC lock his parents. Save XY . Wei Ying make JGY Sect leader of jin . Yiling best city. Control world . Slap Tham in there language. @richie-234

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7. Hello I'm looking for a fic where wwx is a god, a prince to be exact. He meets lwj while visiting. I think they get betrothed but lwj does not know his real identity. I think by the end wwx and his entire family came down an while they were in line he was waving at lwj.

FOUND? cloudy autumn heaps the sky by anatheme (T, 23k, WangXian, Fantasy, Universe Alteration, Secret Identity, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Timeline What Timeline, wwx is a little older here, wwx piling gifts on lwj and encouraging hoarding tendencies, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Arranged Marriage)

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8. Fic finder plz!

LQR owns a cat cafe and LWJ and LXC are like very pretty ragdoll cats and WWX is this gremlin sphinx cat that eventually wins over LWJ.

LQR isn’t happy about this though and has JC keep WWX locked up so he can’t come and bother LWJ but it all ends happy. I’ve tried searching cat LWJ and cat WWX and nothing comes up. Help! 😭😭

FOUND! allopatry by Anonymous (T, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Cats, not in a catboy sense they're actual cats, wwx's propensity for annoying lqr transcends species, codependent cats as a catalyst for, lqr + jiang sibs friendship) I searched cat Cafe 🐈 😻

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9. Hi! I'm looking for a fic similar to one I read called play fighting where Lan Qiren had adopted Wei Wuxian and they grew up together. Or like where Wei Ying ends up growing up in the Lan sect and he and Lan Zhan are like childhood friends or super close growing up.

FOUND? 藍色的花，紅色的蘭 {Lan se de hua, hongse de lan} by Admiranda, AshayaTReldai (M, 45k, WIP, WangXian, Orphan WWX, Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, wwx raised in the lan clan, softer lqr, Good Uncle LQR, Good lan clan, Good Older Sibling LXC)

FOUND? 🔒 Life is Like a Stranger by through_shadows_falling (T, 69k, wangxian, Kid Fic, Child LWJ, Child WWX, First Meetings, Canon Divergence, Cute Kids, Orphan WWX, Autism Spectrum, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Canon, POV LWJ, Growing Up Together, WWX raised at Cloud Recesses, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Puberty, Growing Up, Coming Out, teenage angst, Wet Dream, Pining, This fic gets a little raunchier as the kids become teens, But it won’t get too explicit, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Spanish Translation, Brief mentions/moments of WWX kissing others in chapter 22 but only on the cheek, also characters kiss WWX on the cheek in chapter 23, but his real first kiss is with LWJ, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)

FOUND? 🧡 All will be well when the day is done by abCEE (T, 76k, WangXIan, Canon Divergence, Fix It, Not Jiang Family Friendly, JFM & YZY Bashing, Fix it for our main characters, Time Travel, Butterfly Effect, Madam Lan Lives, No Sunshot Campaign, Artistic License, Unreliable Narrator, JC Bashing, non-yunmeng WWX, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Good Uncle LQR, OOC, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WWX gets the love and care that he deserves from the very beginning, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiangs, verbal and physical (c/o Zidian) abuse from YZY)

FOUND? safe here with me by xcourtney_chaoticx (G, 3k, WangXian, Family Feels, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Goes to Gusu, Fluff, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Food Issues, Endgame WangXian)

FOUND? soft-hearted by sarahyyy (G, 6k, wangxian, alternate universe, childhood friends, hurt/comfort, getting together, first kiss, wedding fluff)

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10. Hello! I'm looking for this wangxian fic I don't remember the name, but it's based on a song by Olivia Rodrigo, there is no happy ending between wangxian 💔

FOUND?🔒 drivers license by AG1234VL (T, 11k, WangXian, WangMian, WWX/Other, Breakup, Hurt No Comfort, slight comfort, Non-Chronological, Song fic, Crying WWX, Driving, breakup weight gain, Lots of Crying, Angst, Modern AU, Homophobia, from lqr, wangxian breakup)

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11. Hi, I'm looking for a fic i read some time ago but i can't seem to find. Basically the great sects had isolated themselves for sometime and WRH still tried to burn CR but the Lan won that war , alone i think, and like they demanded a war prize/hostage/concubine? and YMJ with the other twos support , i think, sent WWX for the Lan's leader LWJ who was surprised by WWX's very feminine and very much marriage robes. So the Jiang and the Jin and the Nie got it wrong but LWJ lets him stay, I think it's been a while and they fall in love for real and LWJ reveals that his brother has been in a coma for some time. Anyway WX went to the Crowd hunt the Jin are trowing and YZY got very angry at like WWX being at her level socially, the spouse of a sect leader and then WX went home and LXC woke up and that's all i know because the fic had like 26/28/20 something chapters in total and it was a WIP and only one or two chpaters left till it was done. I don't know if it is still a WIP. @secretartquotes

FOUND? golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not rated, 95k, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light, angst, fluff, developing relationship, eventual smut, WIP)

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12. Hello, thank you for your page.English is not my first language, so I'm using a translator .Wei Ying is a web novel writer, from a fairly prestigious academy. The web novel he writes is quite popular. He was hired for a reality TV show/music competition as a translator. In the end, he also ends up as a contestant because there are not enough competitors. Every week he tells the public to eliminate him because he's just there as filler. Lan Zhan, I think he's a music coach in the reality TV show @lilassoleil

FOUND! 🧡 I Don't Want to Debut! by countingcr0ws (G, 56k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality show, Idols, Actor LWJ, Forced Contestant WWX, Tencent's 2021 Idol Producer)

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13. Hello! First, I really love the work you do. I'm looking for a fic I read and can't find it anymore. So it's Modern AU, set in high school. Wei Ying is a cheerleader who likes wearing skirts and Lan Zhan is athletic. They didn't like eachother if I'm not wrong but had a contractual relationship like fake dating(I think). The fic had beautiful fan art and in one of them Wei Ying wore a crop top and a cheerleader skirt. Thank you in advance. @mamaladeskies

FOUND! drop the game by martyrsdaughter (E, 28k, wangxian, modern, romantic comedy, fake/pretend relationship, sports, cheerleaders, flirting, sexual tension, dom/sub undertones, compulsory heterosexuality, crossdressing, dub con, under-negotiated kink, consensual non-con)

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14. The fic has Jiang Cheng preserving Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli's body, a magical plant and coffin used. this was a oneshot on ao3. but Wei Wuxian definitely had and older sibling vibe when he got suspicious on what Jiang Cheng was doing. @eclipse-summer

I remember some more details, it was a two-shot, and the magical plant was a mushroom.

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15. Hey, kinda a weird req, but I’m trying to find this wangxian fic where WW pretty much manages to get a dildo stick in his butt, and then he an LW have to go to the hospital to get it removed. Think it was modern au. Tysm for the help!

FOUND? can you feel it by lanzhancore (E, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Awkward Sexual Situations, Established Relationship, Hospitals, Slice of Life, Fluff and Humor, Idiot Lovers, Crack Treated Seriously)

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16. Hiii, for the next fic finder, there was a wei ying/lan zhan fic where they had a relationship around shibari + bondage and nhs tricked wy into walking right up to lz at a party and asking him to tie him up - it turned out that lz had always been super exclusive he had just been pining for wy from afar and agreed to do it and the rest is beautifully written, emotionally literate history. I read it about 17 thousand times but didn't bookmark or download it like a fool!! If its been deleted, does anyone know if the author is fine with people privately sharing? @lockandkeay

FOUND! Ember burning low by wanderingflame (E, 62k, WangXian, LXC/NMJ, BDSM, Dominant LWJ, Submissive WWX, Bottom LWJ, Kink Negotiation, Kink Exploration, Sensation Play, Kneeling, Rope Bondage, Aftercare, Non-Sexual D/s scenes, Non-Sexual Submission, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Public Scene (Non-Sexual), Minor Retrograde Amnesia, safe words, Use of Safe Words, JC is not the most understanding when it comes to BDSM, Orgasm Delay, Porn with Feelings)

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17. Hi!! Hoping that you can help me coz I’m really desperate rn 🥹🤧. I’m looking for a Xichen x Jiang Cheng fanfic where they had a daughter but lxc didn’t know cos he was in seclusion after the death of meng yao and when he got out of seclusion he help this little girl on the streets and the girl brought him to lotus pier to thank him and that’s when he found out the girl was Jiang Chengs daughter. 🥹 I’ve been looking for this everywhere but I can’t find it, please help me 😭🙏. Thank youuu @zosansss-blog

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18. Hiiiii! I hope you all are well! Boy it’s been a long time since I was here. I finally learned how to bookmark so I was not losing track *that* much, but today I was bored and tried to channel my inner MY/JGY and read at work. (Without logging to my account because i don’t want to give my co-workers another reason to think I am crazy).

But back to reason, i need your help lovelies. I am looking for a fic. LQR can read music and he bumped into NMJ and he heard the Turmoil song. He thinks LXC is poisoning him so he goes and ask WWX for help and basically it was a major Canon Divergence. That is where i had to close the tab. I would really appreciate all the help. THANK YOU!!

FOUND? Polyphonic by nirejseki (Not Rated, 14k, NMJ/LXC, WangXian, LXC & LQR & LWJ, WIP, odd abilities, Family Drama, Investigations)

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19. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where the best way I can describe it is WWX has a magic sex toy that is keyed into his own body which LWJ then confiscates and later uses not knowing it's keyed to WWX. I believe it's during the CR arc but not sure how the fic was tagged so haven't been able to pull it up and I don't remember much beyond that. Thanks for all you do!

FOUND? 🔒 The Golden Cutsleeve by syrus_jones (E, 77k, WangXian, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Aged-Up Character(s), WWX POV, WWX is a gremlin, Internally Screaming LWJ, No Sunshot Campaign, First Times, Accidental Sex, Masturbation, PWP, Porn with Feelings, WWX experimenting with things he shouldn’t like always, Happy Ending, Porn With Plot)

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20. Hi! Thank you for your hard work! I'm looking for 2 fics today, but I really want to find the first one. A) It's arranged marriage fic, LWJ is some sort of royalty. After the wedding (I think?) WWX is sent to live in a separate palace (?) He and the Wens (I can't remember why they're there) start a farm to make money (and have food?) to fix up the palace which I think was in some state of disrepair. Eventually he LWJ notices and starts to send gifts and such. I feel like there's something about a dragonfruit? But maybe that's a different fic?

B) The second one I'm looking for is a modern mob au, wwx asks lwj to watch a plant and then disappears for a year, or something like that. I'm sure I probably found it on here, but I must be overlooking it @iluvshikamaru

Hi! 20a is definitely sowing seeds in the cold palace! Thank you so much, it was driving me crazy!

20b is not lightning in a bottle, but it was a delight to read so ty for the suggestion! I seem to remember that jc shows up to kidnap lz at some point, and that lz was also part of the mob/mafia but has retired from it?

20A)

NOT FOUND! The Legend of Moonflower by JJSIN2020 (E, 135k, wangxian, 3zun, A/B/O, Emperor LWJ, LWJ FUCKS, he has a whole harem of male omegas so of course he does, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Beta LXC, Omega JC, Omega XY, Omega XXC, omega SS, Omega OYZZ, Beta NHS, Mpreg, Wolves, Angst with a Happy Ending, Imperial China, Character Death, Fighting, Blood)

FOUND! 我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

20B)

NOT FOUND! lightning in a bottle by bigbabyjeno (E, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, Photographer LWJ, Wedding Crasher WWX, Erotic Palm Reading, Fluff and Smut) fun fact I remembered the fic and that it was a ficus plant and the fic came up when I searched ficus 🤣

FOUND! See What I've Become by Vamillepudding (T, 24k, WangXian, Mob, YLLZ WWX, Hurt/Comfort, LWJ Needs a Hug, Sickfic, Protective WWX)

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[styrmwb]

References to Previous Final Fantasies in Dawntrail

Or, how 9 + 11 + 6 = 14, somehow. (SPOILERS, OBVIOUSLY)

I've played every mainline FF, plus a few others, so one of my favorite things about playing XIV is seeing what they do with previous FFs, and how they incorporate it into the world/story. Dawntrail very very much did this, to the point that I could literally predict plot points before they happened. (THIS IS NOT A COMPLAINT I LOVED THIS)

So I figured I would put down my fanboying in text form, for people to read the insanity of a madman who has played too many JRPGs from a single series.

Note: I have not completed every single side quest, but I have done the entire MSQ, every dungeon, and 3/5 of the role quests. This isn't a complete collection, just what I noticed :)

V

Krile's "real name" is Maya. The original Krile in FFV was Krile Meyer Baldesion. (XIV might also have the middle name but I don't remember! I'm gonna put it here regardless!)

VI

Valigarmanda is the first Esper you encounter in VI, right at the start of the game. Its summon attack is Tri-Disaster. I really liked how they kept it frozen in ice, just like the original, and because Tri-Disaster is a SMN ability, they changed it to Tulidisaster to fit the Tural location.

Pictomancer was first in VI as well, being Relm's job. She even got to be in XIV as well, being credited as the Archon who created the art (HA). Shoutouts to the Relm reborn joke it needed to happen

IX

One of the two most important games in this expansion. There is A Lot here.

The preorder bonus/deluxe edition had a Wind-Up Zidane and Garnet, the two main protagonists of FFIX.

Alexandria is lifted directly from IX. The name, the style of the buildings, and even the castle with the crystal popping out of the top, shown in the dungeon and in Yesterland in Living Memory.

(This is the Dissidia NT version, but I wanted a picture that showed the castle and the roof architecture)

Solution Nine is named after one of Zidane's Dyne abilities. While not direct, Living Memory, the final zone, is very reminiscent of Memoria, the final dungeon of IX. I wonder if you can get a special sword by completing the entire MSQ in under 2 hours?

Living Memory also features quite a few locations from IX. The Canal Town looks very similar to Treno, and features a location called the Daguerreo Medical Collection, named after the city as well. Underneath Proto Alexandria in Yesterland, where the data terminal lies, looks very similar to the part of Alexandria Castle where Steiner can grind to level 99 (I don't know how else to describe it if you know you know). In the Windspath Gardens lies the Cleyra Museum of Nature, also named after the IX city.

Some quest text in Living Memory tells you about other locations in the Unlost World. Lindblum, the city that holds hunts and is very technologically advanced; Conde Petie, where the Dwarves are from (mentioned by a Milalla who said he was from there), and the Iifa Tree. There might even be more here, that I either missed or haven't done yet.

Another quest has you go on a treasure hunt for a password. This password? "I Want to Be Your Canary", the play from FFIX.

Solution Nine has a couple buildings with monsters from IX as signs. One building features a Mu (Which is also mentioned in Living Memory), and another building features Yans, both friendly and not friendly.

Another monster that I noticed a reference to was the Gimme Cat, which is featured on the popcorn in Living Memory. It's also mentioned as an energy drink, but called a "Gimme Bat" instead? I guess it does have bat wings.

While XIV doesn't have any direct plot important characters from IX, the ones we do have are very reminiscent of its cast, and clearly are done like that on purpose.

Otis is Steiner (with maybe a little tiny bit of Beatrix depending on how you look at it). Captain of the Knights of Alexandria, he speaks in an older fashion, similar to Steiner, and is very loyal to his princess.

Sphene is an interesting mix. The most obvious one is Garnet, both being Queens of Alexandria, being named after stones, and loving their people. The other one, which might be argued isn't intended, is Garland.

(No, not those guys. The other one.)

Garland in IX is an artificial being whose purpose is to continue his world's life. To do this, he would try to fuse Terra (his planet), with Gaia (the main planet), and control Gaian souls for Terra instead. What did Sphene do? Try to fuse her reflection with the Source, to use their souls for her own people. I personally think this is a very clear similarity.

In general, because of this similarity, the latter half of Dawntrail shares very similar themes with IX's plots, dealing with death and souls. I also think it's pretty funny that both start out pretty happy and cartoony, and end fairly depressing and existential.

Another plot point used in the MSQ is the play sequence. While IX's is based off love, and XIV's is the history of Alexandria, both feature a sword fight scene. (99 out of 100 nobles approve).

Finally, several songs from IX are used in Dawntrail. In the above mentioned play, Swords of Fury plays, just like the original. And a few scenes later, Vamo'alla Flamenco (previously used for the DNC quests) plays, though it should have been during the sword fight!! Prima Vista Orchestra and Fleeting Life are used in several scenes, usually involving Sphene. Something to Protect also appears, but in a scene I can't recall. Finally, the Court Jesters' theme gets a remix as the main song in the Strayborough Deadwalk.

X

There is a singular joke in Heritage Found made about dodging lightning bolts right before the flash so they don't hit you. The person who wrote this line wanted to induce PTSD in as many people as they could with only a single line of dialogue.

XI

The other most important game in the expansion. In a way, Dawntrail FEELS like it could have been an XI expansion in another lifetime. I might be looking too much into it, but I feel as though this was foreshadowed back in the first patch of Endwalker, as Dawntrail takes A LOT from the Treasures of Aht Urhgan expansion.

In Endwalker, the Alzadaal's Legacy dungeon was based off of the Alzadaal Underwater Ruins in Aht Urhgan. The dungeon used many models from XI, such as the Rampart, the Xzomit (hell yes!), and the Acrolith. The dungeon had a visual similarity, as well as the areas in the dungeon being named after zones in Aht Urhgan (Bhaflau Thickets, Arrapago Reef, and Mount Zhayolm). I know this is Endwalker and not Dawntrail but trust me it's important for the foreshadowing.

Gulool Ja Ja was a boss in the Besieged mode of ToAU, leading the Mamool Ja Savages to assault Al Zahbi. Both incarnations of this character are VERY different from each other.

Similarly, Gurfurlur was also a boss in Besieged, leading the Troll Mercenaries. It's very funny to me that both of these warmongers became such nice people in Tural.

The Yok Huy as a whole are actually Trolls from XI. The different name I assume coming from the fact that Trolls are already an enemy in XIV, in Labyrinthos.

While this isn't direct, and is probably unintentional, the fact that the final boss in Vanguard was a naga/lamia like entity only makes me wonder if it was somehow a callback to Medusa and the Undead Swarm, the last remaining Besieged invaders.

Zoraal Ja is a Notorious Monster in the areas around Aht Urhgan.

To continue on with Mamool Ja facts, Mamook is an area in ToAU. They don't look very similar, but they do both share the title of Autarch as their ruler. Mamool Ja in general come from XI, so it's no surprise that in the expansion that well, expands on them, it uses XI for inspiration.

This next one might be a little insane. The general plot of Treasures of Aht Urhgan, is that after killing Promathia, a god that wishes to end all life, the Adventurer goes to a completely different area to have a relatively calmer adventure. Here, they meet a female member of royalty named Aphmau. Her brother, Razfahd, unable to rule over the country, has a conquering nature, and uses an Automaton body to control Alexander for his goals. This... can't be a coincidence, right?? We kill the Endsinger, who wanted to end all life, go to a completely different area to have a relatively calmer adventure with our female member of royalty, Wuk Lamat, and we fight against Zoraal Ja, her war hungry brother that is unable to rule, so he uses the power of Alexandria (a mech suit) for his goals. You... you see what I'm cooking here right??? RIGHT!?!?!

To piggyback off of this, Wuk Lamat very much fits the role of the XI heroine. A girl who is very clearly the main character of the story, and hangs around you more than anyone else.

Edit: one last thing that I forgot to put down before posting, one of the hunts uses the Magic Pot model from XI. We love Magic Pot.

I THINK that should be everything I found? I know for a fact we're going to get more since the Alliance Raids are based of off XI (I'm so excited)

XIII

A couple enemy models were used from XIII.

The Silver Lobos in Urqopacha use the XIII model. I'm fairly sure they've never been used in XIV yet, but I could be wrong.

Similarly, the Strayborough Deadwalk uses the Gremlin/Ahriman enemies. I do not think they've been used before this, feel free to yell at me if I'm wrong :)

Type-0

While not like, direct, the concept of erasing the memories of anyone who has died (especially seen as a blessing) was a major plot point of Type-0's world.

I think that's everything? My memory isn't the greatest, so I'm sure there's something I noticed that I missed, and again; I haven't done everything, so there might be even more out there that I've yet to find!

Please, feel free to comment anything else that you may have noticed, and hopefully you enjoyed reading :)

[squoxle]

🗼Peril in Paris ~ Minho ff 18+

🗼pairing: Lee Minho (Lee Know) x Female Reader (close proximity) | 🗼wc: 4.2k | 🗼summary: On a study abroad trip to France, you're forced to share a room with the handsome and cold-hearted Minho. |🗼cw: angst, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, fingering f., slightly rough sex, squirting (sry if u don't like that), choking, profanity, swearing

⋆｡°✩Smut Scenes are Highlighted w/ Fire Heart Emoji❤️‍🔥

Disclaimer: this ff came from my drafts in April and was made originally for Sunghoon, so if u see his name anywhere…that’s why (April 25, 2023)

You and your two best friends were so excited to study abroad in France. You had been practicing your ‘française’ and now you could have a few intermediate-ish conversations. Well, actually it’s more like basic-advanced conversations. One of your friends, Charlotte, was super advanced in comparison to you—like halfway fluent to be specific. You have a habit of looking to her for extra help. But Noemi, your other friend, is more on your level. So, you tend to joke around a lot. For the next 16 weeks, you and the rest of your class will be touring all over the beautiful city of Paris.

You continued prancing around your room, packing your suitcase with everything you’d need for your semester away. This was your first time traveling to a country overseas and you weren’t entirely sure of what to expect. You tried your best to "prepare" by binging YouTube vlogs from Paris. Luckily for you, your friends were going to be right there with you. When you were together, nothing could go wrong. Or so you thought…

Charlotte’s Parents drove you and Noemi to the airport where you met up with the rest of your class. When you walked into the massive airport you followed the signs pointing to your group. “Okay everyone. I need to see two lines. One for the ladies and one for the gentlemen.” The head professor—Mr. Zhao—said as he waved his hands around to get everyone’s attention.

The students got into the appropriate lines with their suitcases and boarded the plane. “Omg! I still can’t believe we’re going to Paris~” Noemi giggled. “Yeah, this is an amazing opportunity to immerse ourselves in this beautiful language and culture.” Charlotte chimed. “Y/N! Come on! Let’s GOOO~”Noemi said. You were still locking eyes with Lee Minho. He had been staring at you almost the whole time you guys were in line. But it wasn’t the type of staring that would cause your heart to flutter, it was the cold glare that pierced your soul.

You proceeded to board the plane with your friends. Fortunately, you all had seats next to each other…it always felt like fate kept you guys together. “I saw him staring at you,” Noemi whispered as she nodded her head in Minho’s direction. He was sitting in the row next to us with some other boys.

“Ok, so what?” You snapped “He’s super attractive. And, he might be into you, just saying. If I were you I’d totally be into him” She giggled. Charlotte had already fallen asleep so she was missing all the drama. “Knock it off, Noemi. I’m not interested and I don’t think he is either.” You replied, nudging her shoulder. “So you’re telling me you don’t think he’s hot?” Noemi smirked. “I mean…he’s good-looking, but I’m not just gonna hop on him.” You said as the two of you glanced at the boy. “He really was beautiful,” you thought to yourself.

After the plane landed you and the rest of the group boarded a large tour bus that took you to the hotel you’d be staying at for the next 16 weeks. The female instructor, Ms. Rei, gathered all of the female students and put them into the 5 rooms in groups of three. Mr. Allen did the same with the male students.

However, for some reason, there was one room left and the only people who hadn’t been grouped up were you and Minho.

“Sorry. We miscalculated the room arrangements and you two will be sharing a room with me.” Mr. Zhao said with a shrug. To be honest, he’s one of the cooler teachers so this wasn’t a problem. The problem was that you were separated from your best friends.

You definitely DID NOT see this coming. "What are the odds," you sighed to yourself.

“Umm…well I was supposed to be all alone in this room. But since I’ll be sharing with you two…I’ll take the sofa and you two can share the bed.” Mr. Zhao said as we reached our room. “And don’t worry. It’s a king-sized bed. So, the two of you can sleep at some distance.” He awkwardly chuckled.

Minho remained dead silent the whole time. He then headed to your shared room with his phone in his hand. He was probably doing the same thing you would do…text your friends. You remember him sitting next to two other boys—also attractive, but that’s not the point.

“Which side do you want?” Minho said breaking the silence. “Oh…umm…I’ll take the side by the window if that’s okay with you,” I replied. “I obviously don’t care. That’s why I asked.” He shot back coldly. I really don’t understand why he’s being so cold. Neither of you wanted to be here, but at least you were trying to make the best of it.

Since you arrived at night, you only had enough time to shower and unpack a few things before bed. Mr. Zhao ordered some dinner from the hotel’s restaurant, but Minho decided to just shower and go to sleep.

While eating dinner, Mr. Zhao told you about a few of the things you were going to do the next day. By the time you finished, you were ready to go to bed. Without thinking, you walked straight into your room, locking eyes with Minho.

He was wearing a plain white tee and his hair was slightly damp. He was also wearing a pair of grey sweats with a towel around his neck. “I’m finished in there just so you know.” He said before sitting on his side of the bed with his phone in his hand. I couldn’t help but stare. “Are you going or what?” He asked, snapping me out of my head. “Oh yeah. Sorry.” you stammered, picking out your nightgown before heading to the shower.

When the morning finally came, I got ready for the day. On the tour bus is where I found my friends, Charlotte and Noemi.

“Hey…so what happened? We were texting you all last night.” The two of them said upon greeting you. “My phone died and I couldn’t find a charger.” “Oh, okay.” They looked at you as if waiting for you to tell them some juicy gossip.

“I’m sharing a room with Mr. Zhao and Minho if that’s what u were wondering,” you said slinging the bag over your shoulder. You watched as their jaws dropped halfway to the ground after what you just said.

“NO WAY! You are so lucky~! Did you and Minho ‘do’ anything?” Noemi asked mischievously.

“No, we just shared a bed--"

"Shared a bed! How are you being so chill right now?" Noemi spat, cutting you off. "Girl, the thing I would've done with an opportunity like that."

"You wouldn't have made much progress. When I came out of the shower he was still glued to his phone,” you continued.

“Oh, bummer. I thought he would’ve been cooler.” Noemi said waving her hands in the air.

When you guys arrived at the Louvre Museum you broke off into the same groups assigned last night. Which meant you had to be with stone-cold Minho and Mr. Zhao. Though you'd much rather be goofing off with your friends.

“Well guys, what do you think, huh? There’s some pretty amazing artwork here.” “Hmm. Yeah, I guess.” Minho said with a shrug.

Before you could speak, Mr. Zhao’s phone rang. “Hold on you guys. I’ve gotta take this call really quick.” He said before stepping out of sight.

Again, here you were. Alone. With Minho. The taps of his phone echoed throughout the quiet hall. That and the random sounds of him sniffing through his nose.

For weeks this cold behavior persisted from Minho and you’d had enough of it. He was making this trip miserable. And now was your chance to maybe change things up a bit. Or at least make it less awkward.

“What’s wrong with you?” You asked, sternly.

“Hmm? Were you talking to me?”

“Obviously. Who else is around?”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed before turning back to his phone.

“You’re letting life pass you by while you tap away at that damn phone.” Saying this caused him to look up at you. “Since we got here you’ve been driving me insane. You make everything feel awkward, you hardly talk, and when you do, you have an attitude. What did I do to you?” Minho tucked his phone away in his pocket.

“There. Are you happy now?” His passiveness pissed you off even more. He could see the look of frustration on your face at his nonchalant behavior. You were fuming at his casualness.

“Sorry. I don’t know how else to tell you this. I’m just not a ‘people’ person.” He said looking down at the ground. “How about I make it up to you?”

“How do you plan on doing that?” You asked.

“Follow me.” He grabbed your hand as he led you out of the museum.

“But--" You stammered, trying to think of a valid excuse. After all, this is kinda your fault, right? If only you had just kept your damn mouth shut.

Like any sane person, you were weary about venturing off in a foreign country. Especially, alone...with a boy. "What about Mr. Zhao?” you spat, digging your feet into the ground in an attempt to stop him from leaving.

“Relax. I remember where the hotel is. Even if we get left behind, we won’t be lost.” He said with a smile.

This was the first time you saw Minho smile…ever. It was like diamonds. And I know how corny that sounds, but it really was just as rare and beautiful as diamonds.

He led you into a park that wasn't too far from the museum.

“What are we doing here?” You asked in a slightly shaking tone.

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you wanna go back already. Daddy’s just getting started,” he smirked before holding your hand and walking further away.

“What had gotten into this boy?” You wondered to yourself. How does someone come from quiet and cold to cheeky and adventurous? Was he putting on an act or is this the person he’s always been? You couldn’t tell because both sides seemed so genuine, but by the time you snapped out of your thoughts it was already too late to turn back.

“So, what are you gonna do now?” You asked.

“Taking you out for a drink of course,” he said before walking into the cafe that stood in front of you.

“You think a cup of coffee is supposed to make up for you acting like a stone cold bitch?” You asked casually. To be honest you were trying to match his energy, but this type of lingo really wasn’t your style, and it honestly made you cringe at yourself.

“I can do so much more,” Minho whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek. The flustered look on your face caused him to giggle a bit.

“What the hell is going on?” You thought to yourself.

Once you made your way to the register, you were greeted by the young man behind the counter. He was tall, attractive, and had a naturally toned body. You could tell through the crisp white collar shirt he wore. You were speechless for reasons aside from his looks. As you could assume, he spoke to you in French. And, as you mentioned earlier, you weren’t very good.

Minho watched as a dazed and confused expression formed on your face while your brain played connect the dots. “Don’t worry. I got it,” he smiled before telling the young man what you wanted.

Luckily for you it was just a cup of black coffee. Minho’s ordered something else, but you definitely heard the word for coffee. You felt like kicking yourself in the ass for not studying enough.

You and Minho walked over to a table near a window. It was growing darker by the minute and you were starting to worry.

“So, you wanna talk? Let’s talk. Tell me something about yourself,” Minho said as you started out the window

“What do you want to know?” You asked as you toyed with your fingers under the table.

“Hmm…let’s start simple and then escalate to something a little crazier. How’s that sound?” He suggested, tilting his head slightly to the side.

You nodded in response as he asked you the first question, “What type of music do you listen to?”

"Uhhh. Honestly, I'll pretty much listen to anything," you said switching your attention to the conversation.

"Me too, but I prefer listening to good dancing music. It just makes me feel better," the two of you went on asking a few more random questions back and forth. However, the entire time he was talking you couldn't help but search desperately for that smile. Every now and then you'd see it peek out a bit, but you wanted to see it in full.

"See something you like?" Minho smirked as he ripped you out of your inner thoughts.

"Huh?" you stammered.

"Well, you keep looking at my lips. Did you want to kiss or would you rather keep thinking about it?" he leaned closer to you, flashing that cheeky smile.

You were speechless and you could feel your face heating up as he came closer to you.

"Since you haven't said anything, I assume a kiss is exactly what you want," he chuckled to himself. "Let's save it until after we leave okay. Hopefully, you can control yourself long enough."

It wasn't long before the waiter came out with your order. Two black coffees and a small box with a bow. "What's inside the box?" you asked Minho.

"It's a surprise," he smiled. "You can have some later," he said before sipping from his cup.

You were really starting to like this side of him. Especially the fact that you were the only one who got a chance to see it.

After finishing your drinks the two of you walked around for a bit more before Minho was ready to head back to the hotel. He also told you that he texted Mr. Zhao earlier, telling him that you felt sick and he was taking you back to the hotel. The box of treats was something for the three of you to share.

"I guess he forgot about the kiss," you thought to yourself as you climbed into the taxi.

Even though you initially told yourself that you wouldn't do something like that with him, you were getting the feeling to do a little more than just that.

The ride home was dead silent. It was like he had gone back to his old self again. Completely zoned out on his phone and absent in reality. Was it something you said? Or was that really all just some act to get you to shut up? You weren't sure, but you'd still hold on to the memories from that moment.

The glint from his smile flashed into your head as you walked through the hotel door.

"Feeling better?" Mr. Zhao asked as you came in.

"Yeah," you sighed as you watched Minho silently walk to the bedroom.

"Where're you going?" Mr. Zhao asked him.

"I'm going to take a shower," he muttered before walking into the room.

"Hey, next time you're not feeling well. Make sure you let me know. I could've taken you back here and got you some medicine," Mr. Zhao said, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Okay, I will," you smiled. "And Minho bought these for us," you said handing him the box.

"Aww. Let him know I said thank you. Did you want to pick yours first?" he asked as he opened the box.

"No, that's okay," you smiled before walking to the room.

It felt like a heavy weight was on your shoulders. The thrill was gone and everything had returned back to normal.

Just like last time, Minho came out of the bathroom with damp hair and plopped on the edge of the bed, tapping away at his phone. You pulled out a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt before heading to the shower.

You turned the water on high, causing the mirror to fog up. You got lost in the thought of Minho coming into the bathroom and joining you in the shower.

You squeezed your thighs together as the warm water ran down your body. You could feel yourself getting more and more excited, but the sound of the soap dropping to the floor startled you. You felt a bit of guilt after realizing that you were getting turned on by a casual interaction with a classmate you never really paid attention to.

You finished up in the shower before balling your clothes up to toss in the laundry bin.

As expected, you saw Minho lying in bed when you came out. The feelings of pure annoyance returned as you thought back to the way he behaved like Dr. Jekyll and Hyde. The two-faced, bi-personality this man wielded was insane. Both sides seemed so genuine. It was hard to figure out who he really was.

You went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before going to bed. You looked over to see Mr. Zhao sleeping soundly on his makeshift bed. He'd gathered together extra pillows and sofa cushions to make a platform on the floor.

You walked back to your room and climbed into bed, moving around to get into a comfortable position.

"Can you keep still?" Minho said sharply.

"Sorry," you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you plopped your head down onto the pillow.

"Here we go again," you thought to yourself. "Random, grumpy, asshole," you sighed to yourself as you rolled over and closed your eyes.

"Hey," Minho whispered.

"What?" you angrily whispered back.

"Did you still want that kiss?" he asked as you rolled over to meet his gaze.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you spat back.

"No, I'm serious."

"You must've lost your fucking mind."

"Sorry, it's just that..."

"It's just that what?"

Minho moved in closer to you. So close that to the point that your faces were barely an inch apart.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it," he said glaring into your eyes.

"You can't be serious. I'm not falling for this lame-ass act again. Good night," you huffed before turning away from him.

"I'm sorry for getting cold on you again. That's just the way I am," you heard him say from behind you.

"Look, there're two sides of me--"

"Yeah, I see that now," you mumbled, cutting him off.

"Let me explain--"

"I don't wanna hear it. I'm trying to sleep so can you just be quiet," you spat.

Minho pulled the cover off of your body causing you to turn your body over to face him.

"What the fu--" You were startled by Minho climbing on top of you. You were completely speechless.

Your eyes doe eyes glistened under the faint light emitting from the bedroom window. You watched as his body hovered over you. His facial features looked even more amazing in the cool moonlight.

Minho leaned in to kiss you while you were still dazed. Just a small peck, but enough to get your attention. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before kissing again.

You couldn't believe what was happening right now. You were in a shared hotel room making out with one of your classmates while your professor was asleep in the other room.

The kissing intensified as you thought back to your fantasy in the shower. You gripped onto Minho's hair as your tongues intertwined. Your breathing became ragged as you desperately begged for more. But what really got things started was when you accidentally moaned in his mouth.

❤️‍🔥

Minho paused to straddle your body as he looked at you lying beneath him. "What was that for?" he smirked. "Nothing," you lied. "It didn't seem like nothing," he leaned in closer. "Tell me what you were thinking about," he said as he began kissing on your neck.

"I was thinking about you in the shower," you blatantly admitted. You were surprised that those words had even escaped your lips, but Minho's reaction made it all worth it.

"Oh really? And what were you thinking?" he asked as he rubbed your thigh. "Go on. You can close your eyes if it makes you feel better," the feeling of his breath against your neck made your insides flutter.

"I was thinking about you coming into the bathroom and fucking me in the shower," you said as you closed your eyes. You could hear him slightly chuckle in your ear as he moved his hand between your legs. You felt his hands massaging your pussy through your shorts.

"Mhmm. And how did that make you feel?" he asked. "Ngh!" you groaned as he pressed his thumb against your clit. "Nevermind, I already got my answer," he smiled as he felt your pussy throbbing through your shorts.

"How about I tell you a little secret? I wasn't talking in the taxi because I was too busy thinking about all the things I wanted to do to you back there," Minho spat on his fingers before sliding them into your shorts. "And when we came in, I jerked off in the shower because of you," he continued as rubbed your clit.

"You're so fucking wet," he smiled as he kissed you again. "Do you wanna know what I was thinking about?" he asked to which you hummed in response. "How about I just show you," he smirked.

Minho reached down to pull your shorts off. You moved your legs to wiggle them off before they fell on the floor. Minho rubbed the print of his dick through his pants before pulling out his dick. He glided himself between your folds, you watched his dick twitch as he was eager to enter your wet walls. "Mmm. Your pussy feels so good," he groaned.

You sat up slightly to remove his shirt, revealing the scar on his stomach. Minho continued to stroke his dick back and forth between your pussy lips, coating it in your fluids. You watched as the precum seeped from his dick before inserting it into your pussy.

You let out a soft moan as he inched his way through. "Shhh," he hushed as he covered your mouth. "We don't wanna wake anyone up." You felt him pushing every inch inside of you before taking long, slow strokes in and out of your pussy.

The room was filled with the squelching sounds of your pussy and your muffled panting as Minho increased the speed. He moved his hand as he raised your legs to change the position. Your ankles were now over his shoulder as he pounded hard into your pussy. You tried your best to stay quiet, but the pleasure was overwhelming.

You started to moan quietly through your closed lips, that was until Minho grabbed onto your waist and fucked you deeper. A loud moan escaped your lips as he railed you deeper. "You like that don't you baby?" He wrapped his hands around your throat and pushed you into the bed as he hammered your pussy. Choked moans hiccuped from your throat as you reached your climax.

Your chest raised up and down as you gripped onto Minho's waist. "Come on baby. You're almost there," you felt your pussy tightening around his dick as he pumped in and out of you. "That's it. Cum for me like a good girl," he groaned as you panted breathlessly.

You were just at the point where you were about to cum when Minho lifted you up and began drilling you as you squirted all over his abs. Minho pulled you close as his dick twitched inside of your pussy.

Feeling drained but relaxed you weren't ready for what Minho wanted to do next.

Minho dropped you on the bed and turned you over. Your ass was up in the air facing him as he gripped it before hammering into your pussy from behind. "Ugh. I can't get enough of your perfect fucking cunt," he hummed. You could hear the sounds of your skin slapping against each other as he fucked you.

Your legs quivered as you were getting ready to cum again. Your moans were muffled by the bed sheets. Minho pressed your head into the bed as he faintly moaned from behind. "Ngh, fuck. You feel so fucking good." You could tell Minho was reaching his climax as the speed increased even more.

He pulled your body back, gripping one of your breasts in his hand, while the other wrapped firmly around your throat. "Ngh," Minho whimpered as he filled your pussy.

❤️‍🔥

You and Minho fell down onto the bed before lying lazily under the covers. "We can go again in the morning if you want," Minho said kissing your cheek. "You just gotta get up early," he continued before caressing your face. "Then we can fulfill your fantasy," he smirked.

You agreed to some steamy shower sex before the two of you fell asleep, naked and wrapped up in each other's arms.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @nikisdubblchococake @addictedtohobi @parkjonseongswife @hoyeonheeseung @cas104 @doseoflily @neoteez01 @fics-jillian-liked @skzfelixlove @hyunjinswifeee @urfavberry @ihrtlix @emily1310universe-blog @tiddiesbruhposts @stay-berry @hwanghyunjin2 @cherry8183 @hyunjinslovebott @ta3baee @skz-lover21 @skztalkersworld @hyunjinnie2000 @hyunjinswifeyy @luvyblossom @th3-g1rl-y0u-10v3 @bratty-tingz @skzenhalove

[evilminji]

Okay, you know WHAT? I have been SILENT for too long! I can endure it no longer!!

There is a CRIMINAL lack, CRIMINAL I say! Of Batman/Brucie Wayne Fanfiction out there!

But Minji, you say rightfully concerned for both my sanity and memory issues, isn't Bruce Wayne... Batman?

And, fuck off maybe! I know that, YOU know that, but WE are 5th dimensional spies watching their lives from beyond the 4th wall! NO ONE IN GOTHAM KNOWS THAT!

I want Fandom access!!! *rips shirt to reveal stolen Brucie/Batman OTP shirt from I got from some Gotham based Fan meet up*

It's part of their COVER! Since OBVIOUSLY himbo Brucie Wayne and dangerous brooding Cryptid Batman are VERY different men with VERY different moral and social philosophies about how to help their shared, beloved, city! They should kiss about it!

Tell me the bat-brood don't write terrible fanfic as stress relief. Lurk, just to make sure no one's getting to close. Lurk, just for that sweet, sweet fan art and other merch of themselves or loved ones.

Tell me there aren't arguments over "are they family or co-workers" and "how DARE you suggest our Cryptid would sleep with that Metropolitan SLUT instead our sweet himbo dilf!"

Look me in the eyes and tell me Clark has not COVERED the fan conventions, as a fluff piece, because Bruce annoyed him recently.

Where are my Meta fics? My characters reacting to disturbingly good and engaging fiction about their co-work and himself?

FFS fifty shades of grey(curse its name) was originally a fanfiction! Tell me some enterprising Gothamite wouldn't go "hmmmmm >.> " and pull the same thing? Barely change details and publish? So everyone is like "that is... SO CLEARLY about Brucie Wayne and Batman. But not clearly enough to sue. Holy shit."

Then READ it.

Because who would have the BALLS to do this and what did they WRITE?

And maybe it's... disturbingly good. Like no, really. Deeply philosophical and starkly human. Lot of sex. Excellent pacing.

....about their co-worker literally going and fucking himself.

They are SO conflicted.

I. Want. Fan. Fiction. I want in-world Fandom shit! It's literally a CLASSIC otp pairing! Himbo and gritty warrior with a mysterious past! Wayne getting kidnapped fics. Bodyguard fics. Secretly I'm Batman but now you're my slutty, slutty Boss fics!

Will no one CHALLENGE themselves!? I suffer.

Brucie/Batman

Come one guys! I believe in us!

@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @stealingyourbones

[professionalchaoticdumbass]

if it’s not too much trouble, could you share a bit about how to better support closeted/ just-cracked trans women?

Okay this is going to be a fairly long response, be warned. Its also based off personal experience (or lack of positive experience) from how I'm treated irl. also its 4 am some of this may be less coherent than I want but whatever.

The basics: name & pronouns. Ask who its safe to use these in front of!!! Dont out someone to their parents or partner or boss!! Otherwise use these as much as possible. Avoid deadnames and dead-pronouns as much as possible too - I am fine with being they/themed over he/him and prefer a nameless "later, nerd" to "bye, deadname". sometimes its unavoidable but many times its not. this is 101 stuff but I see lots of people forget it.

Going out and about: GO. WITH. HER. A LOT. She fucking needs it. Go clothes shopping together and teach her how to pick out good clothes/outfits and how to at least begin to decipher the mess that is sizing. Find her a "spinny skirt" (pleated mini skirt or skater skirt, forgot the exact one but anything similar to those) if she really wants one, I dont care how cringe you find the memes this is more important than Reddit Bad jokes. IF YOU ARE ABLE TO, TAKE HER TO THE WOMENS WASHROOM WITH YOU. yknow how girls go to the bathroom in groups for safety? yeah trans women need triple that safety and nobody provides it like ever, even other trans women. change that and be that safety. also, if youre like ordering food or at the cashier, always use the correct pronouns even if misgendering happens. if she gets a "what would you like sir" from the waiter, you are going to say something like "she would like a cheeseburger with fries and a fountain drink". this will save her ass from a lot of awkward correcting.

transitioning & hrt: if she needs a space to wear femme clothes safely, invite her over or go out together. try to avoid places where people she's not out to frequently go. for hrt, if you already accessed it HELP HER AS WELL. the amount of people who are like one step removed from pulling the ladder up behind them with regards to hrt is insane. so much "fuck you got mine" attitude in this community. anyways, DESCRIBE THE PROCESS YOU WENT THROUGH, STEP BY STEP. mention specific doctors, clinics, etc. if you do diy, mention the provider, what to look for on blood work, how to take it (injection, gel, etc) and send relevant articles/pages, about each part, not just the hrt wiki home page. if you have a prescription, mention ANY AND ALL procedures you went through to get hrt. psychologist? readiness assessment? any other screening process? DESCRIBE IN DETAIL WHAT YOU WERE ASKED AND HOW YOU ANSWERED. this can literally be a life saving thing. treat that information like the death star plans and she is the rebellion. precise motherfucking details. similar thing for any surgeries like ffs, tracheal shave, various types of bottom surgery. if you and her are going through different systems (say, you got it under 18 as a youth and she's 22 and no longer qualifies for that, or she wants diy while you have a prescription) then look up third party anecdotes as well. reddit is great for this as they often have city specific trans subreddits which lets you look at local doctors/clinics/providers & shipping. if she gets hit with dysphoria, "you are valid" CAN help new girls but as a half closeted girl for the past three years, I know I'm valid already thank you very much. dysphoria is different to each person, just be there to comfort her, help distract if nothing else. Teach her to shave if she wants, offer to do her makeup if you know how (some tutorials are made by and for trans women btw! check those out if you can). if she wants to order things online, anything from a flag to a dress to diy hrt, but can't for fear of outing, OFFER TO BE THE RECEIVING ADDRESS AND PASS IT ON IN PERSON. you can also try setting up a PO box away from home. covering some costs can potentially help lower suspicion but only do this of you have the money. in general just be a safe & informative helpful person who is willing to stand by her side.

Other general tips:

- if you are transfem yourself you will know and experience many of these things. do not withhold information like others do. did you have another trans person in your own life who helped you out when you first cracked? if yes, now its your turn. if no, then dont let her lose out on that too. actually support your sisters for once.

- if you are having sex, she may want to be submissive and/or bottom more as these are often "forbidden" when youre male. if thats compatible with you then try to accommodate that, and throw in some gender affirming stuff like a "good girl". praise kink often works well here, but always ask first. teach her how to bottom if she wants. AFTERCARE holy shit aftercare. yeah that should also be at least skmewhat gender affirming. dont skip out.

- the self doubt spiral: "you are valid" are the three words that get way more use than they really should. "valid" is so vague that its near useless. if you can, find the specific root (e.g. "I feel like a pervert cuz I get euphoria boners when I wear a sexy dress") and respond with counter examples that tell her she belongs, she is a woman, e.g. "youre not a pervert, plenty of cis women feel similar and enjoy dressing sexy as well". this is mainly for self doubt not other types of dyphoria.

- she will probably be really fucking depressed and possibly even suicidal at some point. usually close to egg crack or after a shitty experience. personally, I have a lot of passive suicidal thoughts where I dont wnat to make any attempts but wouldn't mind if I vanished, if it weren't for a few things. try to be there as a rock in the stream for her to hold onto during depression. it is fucking rough and in the words of bill withers, we all need somebody to lean on. eventually we will all stand tall together.

I am sure there's more but I think I covered most of the points I wanna make.

[at1nys-blog]

Some stories gets told: The start

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x reader

Summary: After the duel with Mihawk, reader can't seem to leave Zoro's side while he is fighting between staying alive and reaching for an old friend

A/N: the way I am putting so much efforts in this is crazy, literally watching scenes in loop to understand how to add things and if they actually work in the original setting of the live action. I mentioned de@th a couple of times but briefly considering how long this is getting. Created a new village on Gecko Island for the sake of this ff Miro Village does not exists in the world of one piece, if it does I'm a lucky mf lol.

Pt.1\Masterlist\\Pt.2

If three days ago people would have told her she was going to fight Kalahadore and his minions, she would have laughed at her faces; if three days ago people would have told her she was going to enjoy a trio of wanna be pirates she would have laughed it off saying that the only crew she was going to join was the same as Yasopp's; if three days ago people would have told her that she was going to face one of her greatest fears, she would have joked about it, but there she was after a fight with Kaya's butler in the company of three wanna be pirates.

The bar was filled with pirates and some Marines, or so she thought. Her blurry vision was not of help, everyone dressed in blue or white, or white and blue, was a possible enemy that was waiting for the right time to strick an attack and bring them back to headquarters.

-...sea slug.-she heard the swordsman say, confused to why he was talking about sea slug, which, by the way, she thought were very cute, she asked for some explanations. Nami only pointed at Usopp, dancing with his usual grace and talent, if that could even be called grace or talent.

-Look at him. Like he doesn't have a care in the world.- the orange haired girl stated, she wanted to replay, to say that in reality Usopp was just putting on a facade, but who was she to spill secrets that were not of her owns? No one, so she just kept quite and went back to her drink. A not well made one on her humble opinion, but at least she was able to drink and have fun.

The girl, once again that night, went back into her own thoughts forgetting she was in company but even if she wanted to have a conversation with the two in her heart she knew it wasn't a good idea. Not when drunk and knowing such state meant spilling everything that was on her mind.

-..you drink.- that was the key word that got her attention, if drinking was in the equation she wanted to be part of whatever they were doing. -You guess something about me, I drink.- he said pouring some of the rum in three little glasses.

-uuhhh I want to play.-

-Not now.-they both said in unison.

-First round is between me and the thief.- Zoro said not taking his eyes off of Nami which smirked at the boy.

If her attention was on Usopp and having her drink, now it was on her two new friends having a drinking game.

-I bet yu grew up in a big city, running schemes, hanging out in swanky bars like this one.-Zoro was the first one to try and guess under Nami advice, she gave him a second smirk. Y/N imagines the swordsman got it wrong from how the girl next to her reacted. And she was right.

-You might be thirsty.-Nami said. -I grew up in a small village. Barely a village. Just an handful of houses in the center of a tangerine grove.- Y/N started to picture how beautiful that might have been, that once again her mind alienated her from the conversation.

Y/N didn't know how long she was gone in her little world, but when she was back to reality second round was on, and this time she wanted to partecipate, but aparently the universe didn't want her to play that Usopp came back at the table with "his new best friend" or whatever.

-What did you say your name was again?-he asked sitting next to Nami.

-Which one of you is Monkey D. Luffy?-Y/N noticed Nami trying to get some informations out of the new nameless guy, asking who wanted to know such a question.

-You are Dracule Mihawk.- the name didn't ring any bell to Y/N, she had never heard that name, or at least while she was intoxicated from all the alcohol she had, the name was completely new to her ears.

-I have business with your captain. If you know what's good for you, you'll hand him over.- she noticed the man didn't like to beat around the bush, he just wanted to get to Luffy.

-We don't know anyone named Luffy. Right, guys?- Y/N looked at Nami confused.

-What do you mean we don't know him? He came here with us.- she turned to the elegant dressed man and told him that Monkey D. Luffy was somewhere around the Baratie but she didn't know exactly where.

-You are unbeliavable.-

-What? Is true he was with us and now he is not.- she defended herself, the two of them started to bicker: Nami trying to explain to her friend why she was supposed to lie, but their attention was back at Zoro when they hard him saying Mihawk, was it Mihawk?, she didn't care much, what she cared about was why for the East Blue did he say that the man was going to die the very next day.

In that moment Y/N was sober in an instant, her brain was back to function normally and so her body. She moved forward, motion followed by the girl next to her, she wanted to understand fully what was happening, maybe she heard wrong. Maybe Zoro was just playing around but even if she had known the man for less than a week she could tell he never joked, at least not about somo random guy dying.

-I, Roronoa Zoro, challenge you to a duel to the death.-

-To the what now?- she said as a reflex, it was not like she meant to say out loud but it happens and the fact that Mihawk was staring at her was not helping her nervouness to settle down. The man turned back almost immediatly letting the green haired swordsman know he never heard of him, implying how small of a fly he was in his eyes.

-They call me the Demon Pirate Hunter. But my lifelong dream it to best you in single combat and become the greatest swordsman in the world.- now that is a great dream compared to hers, that just wanted to live numerous adventures and write about them.

Y/N started to second guess if starting such a journey was even worth it, she was surrended by people with amazing dreams, even Usopp had a better dream than hers. She shook the thoughts away, now she had to more important matter to care about.

Once the challenge was accepted and the time was set Mihawk left and she was on her feet in an instant, she tried to say something but the words seemed to be stuck in her throat. She was speechless, Zoro did not just challenged someone that, for what she got from their conversation, is the most powerful and skilled swrodsman out there.

-You just have signed up your death sentence, you idiot.- she said and left to head back to the Going Merry.

Zoro was polishing his swords when Usopp came back with Luffy behind him, Y/N was silently listening to the conversation happening in the room, not really knowing how to handle the situation. Sure wasn't her friend, how could he be after a day they have known each other? But she didn't want him dead already.

Words of the conversation came and didn't so her brain didn't process half of what they had been talking about, she just knew Nami was trying her best to change Zoro's mind.

It was after Luffy and Usopp left the room that Zoro spoke directly to her that night, asking why she was still there.

-The promise.- she had heard that part, his dream was a promise made to someone; he was going to die just for a promise he made in the past. -did you made it to your friend?- he didn't answer but his body language told her everything she wanted to know. -in that case, I hope you are not going to die. Good luck.- she said walking outside ready to go and try to have some good sleep.

Waking up the next morning felt like a task, her head was pouding so much that if she had too many thoughts her head was going to explode in milion pieces for the lack of space. Trying to stand up from her hammock without falling was another task she didn't know how she managed to carry out, her legs feeling like jelly pudding but she managed to stay on her feet and following the boys outside, after wearing a pair of sunglasses.

The duel started and Y/N wanted to go back on the ship. She didn't want to see Zoro lose, she believed Zoro was a strong fighter and very much the most talented swordsman she ever knew but if his opponent had decided to use a tiny sword that looked like more like a knife, there was a high chance his friend was going to die in the worst case scenario.

The first time the weapon inflicted a scar on Zoro, Y/N gasped and hold onto Usopp to not fall butt flat on the ground for the scare it gave her.

-Why don't you retreat?- Mihawk's voice was cold, dry of any type of emotion when he spoke to him.

-I can't.-

-He can't.- a whisper, taken away from the wind in an istant, not Usopp nor Luffy behind her heard what she said and she was glad. She didn't want to explain herself, not right now.

-Or my dream will be lost forever.- and this is when things got for the worse. The swordsman took out Yoru, the sword he carries on his back and there was a fraction of seconds after the collision between the weapons where it felt like time stopped for good. Then the glenging of Zoro's swords hitting the ground broken into pieces. Y/N gasped, holding tighter on her best friend's arm.

The green haired boy sheated his good sword in place, opened his arms to form a T with his whole body. Tension grew in the air, everyone knew what was going to happen.

While the rest of the crew gave a glance towards each other she couldn't. Her eyes, even if weakened by the bright sun rays, couldn't leave the form of the boy that was about to die in a second now.

-ZORO- Luffy was the first to react, in a second the boy with the straw hat was next to his first mate, hoping to not see him dying in his hands. The conversation him and Mihawk had came in and out Y/N ears, she was focused on praying for the boy to not die.

Usopp was next, he run to his friends' side, pulling her with him in the process, she tripped loosing the grip on his best friend and falling on the ground. Nami tried to help her up, asking if she was okay but she was just able to keep silent.

It was just like when she was a kid and her father had died; it was like when she was a little girl and saw his first friend die, it was as if death was following her wherever she was going collecting people she loved one after the other. Her nails became such an important thing to stare at, she couldn't stand the sight of the pirates around Zoro, trying to speak comforting words that he was going to be okay.

He is not going to be okay, she thought, how could he? He had lost already too much blood and the more they were staying there doing nothing the more he was going to be more on the other side.

It was Nami that brought everyone back to reality and started to shout orders left and right. She asked the boys to take Zoro from the arms while she and Y/N would hold him from the legs.

Everything became a race with time, the more they wasted the more likely was for Zoro to die of blood loss. The four of them put him on the table of the kitchen; Usopp started to run around trying to find some towels or everything that could come in handy; Nami checked on the wounds; Luffy started to space out, every type of noise started to fade out and Y/N didn't know what to do, once again in her life she didn't know how to save another life.

-Someone...- the (your hair color) haired girl knew what she had to do, if no one was of any help she had to find someone that could be. She sprinted outside heading back to the resturant, they had to have a doctor or some sort of thing, didn't they? If that was not the case she was just unlucky.

Entering the resturant she clumsly tried to remember where was the kitchen, the place wasn't that big but in her mental state it was going to be hard remembering her own name.

When she found the door she rushed in, getting the chef and waiter's attention. The blond guy smirked, ready to flirt with her but noticing the worried expression on her face he just asked her if everything was fine.

-Nothing is fine.-she catched her breath for a moment. -Zoro got... He has a very pretty bad sword wound we need a doctor.- please tell me there is one on board, please please please. Her eyes were staring at the owner of the establishment and her face dropped when he said that the closest one was two days from there. Just my luck.

-I can't help you. Hope your friend makes it.-

-No, please you have to help us, please. Maybe there is a doctor on...-

-Ehy, where do you think you're going?- she wanted to punch the chef, he was totally ignoring her call of help and cared more where his waiter was going than on the live or death situation she presented him.

-To help her friend.- said Sanji

-Brunch is not gonna prep itself.- he reminded him. She was totally going to punch him if he ignored once again what was happening.

-You always told me to feed anyone who's hungry.- she heard him saying while looking around the room. -I don't see how this is any different.- he added.

The owner of the resturant sighed, realizing that he had no other choice but try and do somethig to help the dying kid.

-Fine. Bring me my kitchen knives and a bottle of our best whiskey. And a fresh yellowtail from the cooler. Bigger the better.-he ordered and started walking outside. Sanji was confused, why would Zeff need a yellowtail? -Just do it already.-

Y/N walked them to the Merry and once she pointed the direction of the kitchen, she let them go in first. She wanted to stay away from there, she didn't want her bad luck to linger over Zeff while he worked on Zoro's wounds.

It had been some time since the two chefs came to stich the swordsman up so when she saw the chef leaving the kitchen she jumped on her feet asking how her friend was doing. Zeff assured her the guy was resting but only time could have told if he was going to live or not.

She walked inside meeting eyes with Usopp, Luffy stop tending on Wado and looked at her, giving the girl a forced smile, and she did the same. She was in no shape for smiling sincerely.

-How is he doing?-her tone was almost inaudible if it wasn't for the lack of noises.

-He is resting now, we are hoping for the best.-Usopp answered, she looked in the direction of Nami's room but then changed her mind. She didn't want for her bad luck to make things worse.

Usopp noticed. He always did. He had know her for a long time now and could read her like an open book. He knew what she had to go through, she had told him, trusting in his vow to not say a thing.

-You can go and talk to him. Maybe he would like to hear from a more gentle voice.- he joked.

-I heard that.- that made her laugh a little and she made a note to herself to thank her best friend for the joke.

-But...-he started again, Y/N stopped him, it was fine. She was going to stay in her room for the time being hoping that everything was going to get better.

-What's up with her?-Asked a worried Sanji looking the girl dissapearing from his view. After she had left the cook tried to get some info out the sniper but the man brushed it off lying that he wished to know as well.

Entering her room she locked herself in, not wanting people in for now, she wished for some alone time.

She went to the little desk and turned on the snail radio searching for a station worth listening to hear. Every station she picked were talking about some piracy activity around the East Blue or the New World, some had music but nothing that was of her taste. Her patience was running short, nothing was good enough, growing impatience she took the snail and throw it away.

The object made a loud noise that had been heard downstairs for sure, but she didn't care. She really didn't. She got herself under the blanket, cold running throught her body even tho the weather was pretty warm.

It took her nothing to fall asleep, and to be surrended by her nightmares coming back to make her sleep difficult. Between the faces that she was used to see screaming at her, putting the blame on her a new was added to the crowd: Zoro's. He wasn't talking like the others, he was silently looking at her dissapointment all over his features. Y/N tried to apologize, but words couldn't come out, they were stuck making her choke on air.

-Z...-nothing, her throat felt dry, like the ground back in Syrup Village during the drought. She felt powerless as usual. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, she wanted to apologize but it was hard when the only thing you can do is breath.

Breating, the only thing she was able to do was to breath but with time she found herself having an hard time doing that as well, dropping on the ground. Tears creeped out her eyes, watering her eye line but she tried her best to fight the urge to cry her eyes out.

She woke up covered in sweat and sighed asking herself when was she going to stop having nightmares or was she going to live like that forever? If that was the case she hoped the sea was going to take her as soon as possible, before she was going to lose her mind.

After a quick shower and a change of outfit she tippy toed outside her room making sure no one was around she headed to check on Zoro. She was happy to see they were alone in that moment.

She closed the door behind her and for a moment she pondered if it was a better idea go back to her room and stay there untill her friends were back, no she decided to keep Zoro company for a while. Maybe she didn't really know what to say, but the words were going to come at some point, wouldn't they?

She moved the chair closer to the bed he was resting on, glanced for a while his hand. Was oaky for her to hold it? Was he going to even feel it? She didn't know what to do, she had found herself in that position countless of times and yet it was just like the first time.

-Zeff told me it is a good idea to talk to you but honestly I don't even know what to say.- she thought she was sounding stupid, who on the seven seas starts a conversation like that? Her for sure. -Usopp hasn't always been my best friend, I had one before I met him. She was older than me, not much older, just two years of diference.- she smiled. -I was new to Miro Village. The first two months she was really mean to me so I would avoid her most of the times, even thought she would find ways to bully me so I gave up. She did everything in her power to make me upset, she blamed everything on me to get me in trouble like that one time she stole an entire cart of fruits and told the major it was my fault. He had to call in my parents, they wanted to talk to my dad about my behaviour but little they know he was dead. He had died some weeks prior I moved there, the journey wasn't that long since I used to live nearby but no one knew, how could they? Is not like I talked about it nor anyone cared to ask why a lonely little girl walked miles to get there, they were just happy there was someone doing the jobs no one wanted. She apologized for how she treated me but to be honest with you it wasn't that important, she was the only one that paid attention to me, yes you might argue it was not the best way but when you are a kid that goes unnoticed you kinda of like it when someone talks to you, even if is just to make fun of you.- she took a deep breath, now it came the hard part. -We started to get closer and closer until one day pirates raided the village, they took her because she was trying to protect little ol' me. They killed her on the spot and I was going to follow her if it wasn't for a random citizen pumbing into the pirate. It gave me the window to run away and I found shelter in Syrup Village where I met Usopp. Sometimes I see her in my dreams, she is always mad at me because I ran away and I didn't help her, sometimes I think back at...-

Someone was on board, she could tell, checking who was she felt safe seeing her captain. Luffy walked past her ignoring her presence, not because he didn't like her, for all the seas if that was the case she couldn't even have thought on putting a single foot on his ship, the captain had to fix the problem first thing first.

-Hey, Zoro. You sure missed a big fight. Those fishman guys were though. You would have loved it.- she smiled, knowing that was 100% so true. -...great dinner. All of us sitting around together, listening to Usopp's stories. Only I kinda messed it up. And now I lost Nami.- schock was painted all over Y/N, what was he talking about? Losing Nami? How? When? Why?

-...but I know what to say now, and is so simple. I need you, Zoro. I need you to wake up.- the girl felt ashemed, she wasn't able to say those simple words, indeed went on about her childhood friend that died to protect her. She was glad that her captain got the courage to say those words.

-You gonna keep talking, or let me get some sleep? Geez, you people really like to talk uhm?- Luffy jumped on top of Zoro, Y/N was only able to stare at the two boys in front of her. He was alive, how? She was pretty sure he was done for. She thanked whoever decided to let him live.

Luffy hugged his first mate, making him groan out of pain.

-Luffy, Luffy get off you are hurting him.- the girl said and before she could help the straw hat pirate down he was already on his feet.

She was now standing next to Luffy, looking at Zoro with a small smile on her face.

-I had the strangest dream that Nami left.-

-She did.-

-What do you mean she did? Why?-

-It's my fault. She left...- he started but Zoro cut him off.

-No, you didn't do anything wrong. You acted like a captain.- Luffy couldn't understand, if he did actually act like a captain, why was the crew falling apart more and more? -No, it's not. I, Roronoa Zoro, vow to stand by your side from now until the end. Until we find the One Piece or die trying.- he kept on with his vow and Y/N could only admire the boy for that. She started thinking if she was in any position to vow eternal loyalty or if her presence on the Going Merry was just temporary, she hoped not for the latter.

-so what do you say?-

-What?-

-Do you want to be part of my crew as a loyal member?-she was taken aback, no one had ever asked for her opinion on important metters, she grew up following orders. If she was told to do something her only concern was to carry on the task, no question asked, but now? Now she was given the chance to choose: eaither stay on board and become a part of the Straw Hat pirates, or leave and starting fresh a new life somewhere else.

-If you accept me, I'll be honored to follow you and protect this crew and the one in needs.-

-Of course I accept you, why would have I asked to join in the first place? Now...- the three of them got interrupted by Usopp screaming and happy to see his friend awake.

-I wasn't worried for a second.-

-Yeah, not worried at all, in fact I was the one...-

-HE IS ALIVE.-he said raising with such force his hand and Zoro's in the process, making the wounded guy groan out of pain.

-LUFFY STOP. - she separeted the two, taking Zoro's hand in hers. -For all the seas, you are going to give him an embaracing death one of those days I am telling you.- she was still holding his hand when the green haired swordsman cleared his throat to get her attention. -Sorry.-

-So, now what we do? Plot a curse to the Grand Line?-

-No, not yet.- was his answer.

-But I thought we were going after the One Piece?-

-We are, but we can't do it without our whole crew.- she smiled, knowing exactly where he was going with that. First mission before heading to the Grand Line: getting Nami back.

-Great, now you two start getting everything ready. I am going to change his bandage.-

-I can do...-the captain started.

-I am not leaving the first mate under your care. You keep treating him like a doll. Now please let get ready to leave.

-I can do it myself.- he groaned trying his best to stand up, but failed.

-dude, you can't even seat without help. Now shut up and let me help you.- he let a small "fine" not sure about the whole situation but it was either that or groaning every two seconds. And as much as his ego screamed at him that it wasn't to be that bad, he gave up and thought that maybe he really needed a little bit of help.

[f14fun]

A Cowgirl's Stars, Stripes, and Speed (!black-!cowgirl-!singer x dr3) (C1)

synopsis: in which case y/n, a bold African American country singer, crosses paths with Daniel, a charming Australian Formula 1 driver, both tipsy and unwound by the night.

prose + smau (20.6K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩z profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

author's note: i desperately had to write a daniel ff, because a) the austin grand prix is nearing and b) i'm terribly sad about his sudden departure. daniel, we all love you so much and wish the best for you! remember to #fea (f' 'em all) <3

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Austin, Texas had nothing on me.

The dingy little bar — well, to me it was dingy because it was the family bar — was dimly lit, with neon signs casting a faint, almost ghostly glow across the weathered wooden walls. The low hum of chatter mixed with the clink of glasses, and even though it was nearing midnight, the place had only gotten busier. Crowds swayed to the twang of a fiddle in the background, boots stomping across the sticky floor. Outside, the summer heat still clung to the air, making the inside feel close and hazy, like the walls were holding in the laughter and stories of the night.

I’d played more shows here than I could count, my boots leaving their mark on the same stage where my granddaddy used to strum his guitar. Most nights felt predictable, but this one felt different, like the air was charged with something I couldn’t put my finger on.

I wasn’t much for Formula 1 — Texas rodeos and horse racing were more my speed — but I knew every year when the race came through Austin, our little bar saw a wave of tourists eager for a taste of country. And tonight, as I leaned against the bar nursing my bourbon, the buzz of unfamiliar accents swirled around me, a reminder that the city had filled up with people from all over the world, looking for thrills in the dust and heat of Texas.

"Y/N, baby, why don’t you get up there and play a few songs?" my mom said, wiping her hands on a towel as she leaned over the bar. Her voice was soft, but that familiar nudge was behind it — the kind that never really left room for much argument.

I hesitated, swirling the last bit of bourbon in my glass. “I don’t know, Mama... it’s packed tonight,” I replied, glancing around at the sea of faces — mostly tourists, loud and unfamiliar. “Besides, they’re not here for me. Just here for a taste of Texas, right? A rodeo queen, not a country girl with a guitar.”

Mama raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You’ve got more than a taste of Texas in you. Those folks would be lucky to hear what you can do. You know that.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of her words settle in. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to play — hell, I’d been singing since I could talk and playing guitar since I was old enough to hold one. But growing up Black in a part of Texas where faces like ours weren’t the norm? That always added a little extra pressure.

Even though our family had earned our place here, built up the bar and our name through years of hard work and music passed down through generations, it never really felt like the eyes watching me were just listening to the music. They were measuring us.

But over the years, we’d carved out a space for ourselves. This bar wasn’t just another honky-tonk; it was ours, The Dusty Rose, and people knew us for more than the color of our skin. Mama’s voice, my granddaddy’s songs, and the family’s grit had earned us some respect in this town. Enough that people came back, year after year, to hear us sing, drink our whiskey, and pretend for a while that we were all part of the same big Texas story.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight, with so many new faces and voices in the crowd, I wasn’t sure I had the courage to step up. I glanced down at my guitar leaning against the wall, its strings worn and familiar, waiting for me like it always did.

Mama’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Y/N, you’ve got the talent and the heart. Don’t let anyone else tell you different. You’re gonna get up there and remind them why they keep coming back.”

I wanted to believe her, I really did. But I wasn’t sure if tonight was the night to take on the weight of all those eyes.

I took a deep breath, running my fingers along the worn edge of my glass before setting it down with a soft clink. “Alright, Mama,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Guess it’s time to remind these folks why The Dusty Rose has lasted this long.”

Mama smiled, that proud, knowing smile she always gave me. I stood up, the familiar click of my cowboy boots echoing on the wooden floor, a steady rhythm that matched my heartbeat. Without another word, I slung my guitar over my shoulder, the weight of it settling comfortably against my back, like an old friend. The crowd was a blur of faces as I walked toward the stage, my pulse steadying with every step.

As I stepped up, I saw Orville already seated behind his drum kit, twirling a stick between his fingers with that lazy confidence of his. His bright blonde hair stuck out in every direction, his face splashed with freckles that made him look like a mischievous kid, though he was older than me by a good ten years. He looked up, grinning wide. “Well, I’ll be damned, look who’s finally decided to grace us with her presence. You plannin’ on singin’ or just standin’ there lookin’ pretty, Y/N?” he teased, tapping his snare for effect.

“Could do both, Orville,” I shot back, my nerves melting a little under the familiar banter.

To the right of him, Clyde was leaning over the keys, his cowboy hat tipped low over his brow. With a name like Clyde and a deep Southern drawl that stretched out his words for days, he was about as country as they came. He looked up at me with a slow nod. “Ain’t no time like midnight for a little serenadin’, huh?” he drawled, cracking a toothy grin. “Folks gonna think you’re singin’ ‘em to bed.”

Then there was Gus, seated on the stool, strumming a lazy rhythm on the bass. He had a scruffy beard, worn jeans, and the kind of build that said he spent just as much time on a ranch as he did on stage. Gus tilted his head and gave me a half-smile. “Late night’s when the magic happens, darlin’. ‘Sides, these tourists don’t know country music 'til they hear it this time of night.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. The boys had been with me long enough to know my patterns, and teasing me for wanting to sing so late was their way of easing my nerves. We’d known each other since grade school — back when Orville was the kid who drummed on lunch tables, Clyde would belt out country tunes during recess, and Gus would pluck at strings made of rubber bands, pretending he had a bass in his hands. Now that we were twenty-two, somehow, we still hadn’t split up. Through all the ups and downs, we stuck together, always finding our way back to this stage.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, strumming a few soft chords to tune my guitar, “you all just wait. We’re about to remind this bar why they keep coming back.”

Orville gave his drums a little roll, Clyde’s fingers hovered over the keys, and Gus plucked the bass with a steady beat, all of them waiting on me to start. It was like second nature, this rhythm we shared, a connection built over years of shared songs and late-night jams.

I took one more deep breath, feeling the energy of the room shift toward the stage, my nerves steadying under the soft glow of the spotlight. Time to show them what The Dusty Rose was really about — and remind myself why we never gave up on this.

I stomped my boots on the worn wooden floor, the solid thud cutting through the clamor of the bar. A few heads turned first, followed by more, until the low murmur of voices quieted down after a couple of cheerful whistles and claps from the regulars.

I stepped up to the mic, adjusting the strap of my guitar on my shoulder. “Hey y’all,” I started, my voice carrying over the room. “For those who don’t know me, I’m Y/N. I’m a small singer-songwriter, born and raised right here in Austin.”

Before I could say another word, Gus chuckled from his spot behind me. “Small, my ass. She’s an enigma, and she’s selling herself short, y’all!”

The room rumbled with a few laughs, and I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as I blushed, turning around to swat him gently on the shoulder. “Gus, you’re lucky I don’t throw my boot at you,” I teased, shaking my head before turning back to the crowd.

“Alright, alright, don’t listen to him,” I said with a smile. “I wanted to play a song tonight that’s a little personal. One I wrote not too long ago... when I found my boyfriend — who, funny enough, was also in the band — cheating on me with my best friend, who used to sing backup vocals.”

A few sympathetic murmurs rose from the crowd, and I could see people shift in their seats, intrigued. “Yeah, it was a mess,” I continued, smiling despite the sting of the memory. “Johnny and Carrie — yeah, those are their real names, y’all — are long gone now. They didn’t just break my heart, they broke the band up too.”

I glanced at Orville, Clyde, and Gus, the ones who’d stuck around. We’d been through hell and back, but we never let anyone tear us down. “But we bounced back. And so did I,” I added with a grin. “This song’s about all that, and how you pick yourself up when the people you trust let you down.”

The room was still, eyes fixed on me as I raised my guitar, fingers poised over the strings. “So, here’s one I like to call Blue.” I stomped my boots once more, giving the boys the cue to kick in. The first slow, mournful chords filled the air, and as I started to sing, the bar held its breath, waiting for the heartache in my voice to tell the rest of the story.

I took a deep breath and let the first notes roll off my tongue, the familiar melody filling the room as my fingers danced across the strings.

"Blue, oh, so lonesome for you Why can't you be blue over me..."

My voice lingered in the air, soft yet steady, as the boys followed in perfect harmony. The crowd had settled into the mood, quiet and still, as if they, too, were feeling the heartache threaded through the lyrics.

"Tears fill my eyes 'til I can't see Three o'clock in the mornin' Here am I, sittin' all alone..."

As I poured myself into the song, my gaze drifted across the room, and that’s when I spotted him. A ruggedly handsome man leaning against the far corner of the bar, his stubble-covered jaw catching the dim light just right, giving him an air of mystery. He had a full head of curls peeking out from under a cowboy hat that didn’t quite fit the way a Texan’s would. He might have been trying to blend in, but it was obvious he wasn’t from around here.

The way he carried himself — that casual yet calculated way of sitting, like he was at ease but somehow apart from it all — made me wonder who the hell he was. Something about him tugged at my attention, even as I sang the words that had been pulling at my heart for months.

"Now that it's over I realize Those weak words you whispered Were nothing but lies..."

My fingers faltered for the briefest second, but I recovered quickly, shaking off the distraction and forcing myself back into the song. Whoever he was, I wasn’t about to let some handsome stranger throw me off my game. Not tonight.

I kept going, but the thought of him lingered at the back of my mind, the heat of his presence warming the room just a little more than it had been before.

The gentle rhythm of Gus’s bass hummed through the room, a steady heartbeat that matched the soulful sway of the song. Each note he plucked seemed to cradle the sadness in my voice, grounding it in something deeper, something raw. Clyde’s fingers danced over the keys, soft and mournful, adding a kind of sweetness to the pain, like the last lingering memory of something you loved but had to let go. Orville’s light taps on the drums gave the song its slow, steady pulse, holding everything together in a rhythm that felt like the ticking of time, dragging me back through memories I’d rather forget.

"Blue, oh, so lonesome for you Why can't you be blue over me..."

The melody wrapped itself around the room, and I could feel the audience sinking into the sadness with me, the song casting a spell over the bar. I was in the zone, letting the music take over, but that rugged stranger in the corner was like a stubborn note I couldn’t shake. His presence tugged at me, even with the sweet sorrow of the keys flowing through the air. He wasn’t watching me like the others; he was studying me, eyes dark under the brim of that cowboy hat that didn’t quite belong.

As my voice rose for the next line, I couldn’t help but glance his way again. His stubbled jaw was clenched like he was thinking hard about something, but there was a glint of something else — maybe curiosity — in his eyes. It unnerved me and fascinated me all at once, the way he didn’t quite fit in, even though he was trying to. And those curls, barely contained by the hat, told me he wasn’t used to this kind of scene. Not here, not in Texas. Not in my bar.

"Now that it’s over I realize Those weak words you whispered Were nothing but lies..."

The bass thudded low, pulling me back into the music. Gus knew just when to make it heavy, the vibrations running through my chest like the ache of an old wound. The keys lifted the sorrow just enough to make it bearable, Clyde’s touch delicate but deliberate. Together, we made the heartache sound beautiful.

But no matter how much I tried to drown myself in the song, I kept catching glimpses of him. The stranger, leaning back casually, his body language saying he was here for the ride, but his eyes telling me there was more to him than that easy posture.

The lyrics fell from my lips, but my mind kept wandering to the question burning in the back of my head: Who was he?

As the final chords of the song rang out, the bar was quiet for a moment, letting the last notes settle before a soft wave of applause rippled through the crowd. I smiled, feeling a strange mix of relief and adrenaline, my heart still thudding in my chest. The boys gave me a few approving nods — Clyde even tipped his hat — and I turned back to the mic, clearing my throat.

“Well, uh, that was a little somethin’ I wrote not too long ago,” I said, feeling the warmth of the stage lights on my face. “If y’all liked it — or if you’re just in the mood to be sad for a bit — it’s out on Spotify, Apple Music, SoundCloud, or whatever platform folks are using these days,” I added with a grin. “I promise, I’ve got some happier stuff too. Probably should’ve started the night off with one of those, huh?”

A few chuckles broke out from the crowd, but one laugh stood out — low and warm, rolling through the room like a wave that hit me square in the chest. It wasn’t like the others. It had weight, something that settled in my stomach and made it twist in a way I wasn’t used to. Almost instinctively, I looked toward the sound, and there he was — the stranger in the corner. His cowboy hat was still tipped low, hiding just enough of his face to make him even more intriguing, but it was the way his eyes locked on mine that made me freeze.

His grin was lazy, like he had all the time in the world, and there was something about the ease of it that made my heart skip a beat. In the soft glow of the bar, it felt like the entire place faded into the background. For a split second, there was nothing but me and him, his gaze holding mine with an intensity I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just that he was watching me; it was like he saw me, past the stage, past the song, and right into that vulnerable place I tried so hard to guard.

And then, just like that, I became a complete mess. Heat rushed to my face, my skin prickling under the spotlight, and I felt my grip on my guitar falter. “Uh, yeah… so, anyway... that’s me,” I stammered, my voice coming out shaky, the words tumbling over each other as I tried to make a coherent sentence. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck, no matter how hard I willed it to stop, and I quickly looked away, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

But it was too late. The boys behind me noticed — of course they did. I could practically feel Gus grinning at my awkwardness, and Clyde was trying to suppress a chuckle. Orville tapped out a light rhythm on the edge of his drum, clearly enjoying my flustered state. I fumbled with the strap of my guitar, my hands suddenly too shaky to be of any use, my mind still stuck on the way that stranger had looked at me.

I’d performed hundreds of times, faced crowds far bigger than this one, but something about that single moment — that one look from him — had knocked me off balance. My pulse was still racing, and the heat in my cheeks refused to fade. He was just a man, I reminded myself, a guy sitting in the corner of a bar. But it didn’t feel that simple. It felt like he’d peeled back a layer of me in that one glance, leaving me bare under his eyes.

And as I fumbled my way off the stage, trying to get my act together, one thought kept running through my mind: Who the hell is this guy, and why is he making me feel like this?

I cleared my throat and leaned back into the mic with a grin, letting go of the last song’s weight. “Alright, y’all,” I started, flashing a playful smile, “that last one was for all the folks who like to sit and think about their exes at 2 AM — you know who you are,” I added, getting a few chuckles from the crowd.

“But this next one? It’s a little different. We’re gonna turn things up a notch. It’s got a bit of rock in it, so feel free to sing, cry, scream, yell—whatever your heart needs. And if you wanna dance, well, don’t hold back. Just don’t blame me if you’re out of breath by the end!”

The crowd laughed, and I winked. “This one’s called Indifferent, but don’t let the name fool you—it’s anything but.”

I strummed the first few chords, letting the energy shift in the room, and the boys picked up right behind me, Orville giving the drums a little more punch, Clyde leaning into the keys with a rock edge, and Gus keeping the rhythm solid with his bass. I was about to really get into the groove when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

The stranger — cowboy hat and all — stood up from his seat, shaking his curls free as he made his way toward a group of people who had started to sway with the beat. And then he started dancing. And I mean really dancing, not just swaying but full-on, carefree moves, like he didn’t give a damn who was watching.

I couldn’t help it — a laugh bubbled up from my chest, and I almost missed a chord as I watched him. He was good, I had to give him that, but there was something about the way he moved that told me he was trying to get my attention. The way he’d glance over every so often, like he wanted to see if I was watching — and yeah, I was watching.

The more he danced, the more I giggled, barely keeping my voice steady as I kept singing. His cowboy hat bobbed up and down as he spun around, clapping along with the beat, and I could tell he was putting on a show, just for me. My eyes met his again, and he shot me a grin, all cocky and playful, making my heart skip a beat.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the song, but the sight of him — carefree, handsome, and definitely showing off — made it hard to keep my cool. My voice caught just a little as I sang the next line, and I could feel my face heating up again, but this time, I was more amused than flustered.

Oh, he’s trying to impress me, I thought with a smirk. And I couldn’t lie, it was kinda working.

I leaned into the mic, my voice steady as I sang the next line, feeling the shift in energy from the crowd.

"I see your truck and I don't give a—"

Before I could even finish, the crowd roared in unison, screaming out the word I didn’t have to sing. “FUCK!” Their voices echoed off the walls, a mix of laughter and rebellion, and I grinned wide.

But the loudest voice? That came from him.

“FUCK!” he yelled, right along with the crowd, his grin even wider now as he danced like no one was watching — except everyone was. His cowboy hat tipped back as he threw his arms up, and I swear, he looked like he was having the time of his life.

I couldn’t help it — I laughed, nearly missing the next line as I watched him throw himself into the moment. My cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so hard, but I kept going, feeding off the energy around me.

"And it don't make my heart skip a beat," I sang, almost giggling through the words, but his eyes were on me again, catching mine as he clapped along with the beat. His dancing had turned into full-on jumping now, and I could see a few others joining in, all feeding off his wild, carefree energy. He was having a blast, and even though I was up on stage, I felt like I was right there with him, swept up in the fun.

I saw him glance at me again, this time with a playful wink, like he knew exactly what he was doing. My heart did that weird little flip again, and I almost tripped over the next verse, the heat creeping up my face once more.

He’s definitely showing off now, I thought, trying to keep my focus on the music. But I couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped as I strummed through the chorus. His dance moves might’ve been reckless, but they were working. The crowd was loving him, and so, apparently, was I.

I sang the next line, my voice steady but my heart racing a little faster as his grin widened, his eyes locked on mine. I wasn’t sure what got into me, maybe it was the way he looked so carefree, so unbothered by the world around him, or maybe it was just the thrill of the moment — but before I could stop myself, I tilted my head toward the stage, beckoning him with a playful nod.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but that grin of his never wavered. The crowd cheered him on as he took a few exaggerated, swaggering steps toward the stage, his cowboy hat tipped back and curls bouncing with every step. I laughed, my own confidence rising, and held out my hand as he made his way up.

He took it, and in an instant, we were standing side by side, the crowd going wild as we started to sway together in time with the music. His hand found its way to the small of my back, and I could feel the warmth of it even through my shirt.

The moment felt... electric.

We kept swaying, his towering frame almost comical next to mine, but somehow it worked. His eyes never left mine, and for a split second, it felt like we were the only two people in the room. The music kept going, but everything else seemed to blur into the background. I could see the playful glint in his eyes, the way he seemed to be daring me to look away — but I didn’t.

He leaned down just a bit, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke, his voice low and teasing. “Not bad for a country girl,” he said with a wink.

I giggled, blushing like a schoolgirl as I tried to keep my cool. “Not bad for a guy who’s clearly not from around here,” I shot back, but my voice wavered just a little, betraying how much his presence was throwing me off.

We kept swaying, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm, the lights catching the gleam in his eyes as we held each other's gaze. He towered over me, but I didn’t feel small — not with him, not in this moment. It felt like the rest of the world had faded away, and all that was left was the two of us, swaying together under the soft glow of the stage lights.

I took a deep breath, trying to refocus as the music carried me back into the song, but it wasn’t easy. His presence behind me was impossible to ignore, like he was right there, even though we weren’t touching anymore. My skin tingled with awareness, and I could feel the heat rising to my neck, warming me from the inside out. We were both tipsy, the drinks and the night making everything feel a little looser, a little more charged. But the way he was standing so close—his warmth practically wrapping around me—made it harder to concentrate.

"I'm indifferent, I'm just livin' When your mama calls, I'm reminded you exist And I wish that she didn't 'Cause all my 'give-a-damns', they've already been given..."

My voice stayed steady, but I could feel my heart thudding faster with every word. The crowd was clapping along, some of them singing the lyrics back to me, but all I could think about was him. I knew he was still behind me, standing tall, his presence so strong I could almost feel it on my skin.

As I sang, my breath caught just a little when I felt him shift closer, the slightest brush of his arm near my shoulder. It was nothing, really, just a subtle movement, but it sent a rush of heat up the back of my neck, making my pulse race. My voice wavered for just a second, and I bit my lip, hoping no one noticed how distracted I was.

But I knew he did. I could feel his gaze on me, even though I couldn’t see him.

I played a few more songs, each one building on the last, the energy in the room rising with every note. The crowd was alive now, swaying, clapping, and singing along. I felt a rush of adrenaline pumping through me, the nerves from earlier completely gone, replaced by this wild confidence I hadn’t felt in a long time. The music was in my veins, lifting me up, and for the first time all night, I felt completely at ease on stage.

But even with the thrill of the crowd, my thoughts kept drifting back to him. I could feel his presence in the room, like a constant hum just below the surface, and every time I caught a glimpse of his curls or that easy grin from across the bar, my pulse quickened.

As the final chord of my last song rang out, I stepped away from the mic, feeling a surge of applause wash over me. I grinned, tipping my hat to the crowd, but my eyes were searching for him. And then, there he was, standing near the bar, his gaze locked on mine. The cheers of the crowd faded into the background, everything else becoming a blur as I zeroed in on him.

Before I could even believe it, my feet started moving. It was like my body had a mind of its own, dragging me toward him before my brain could even catch up. Each step felt like I was crossing some invisible line, the adrenaline still coursing through me, making me feel bold, invincible.

I wasn’t thinking about anything else but the way his eyes held mine, steady and sure, as I made my way across the room. It was like gravity was pulling me toward him, and I wasn’t about to fight it. Before I knew it, I was standing right in front of him, close enough to catch the faint scent of cologne and the hint of whiskey on his breath.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel the heat rising to my face again, but I wasn’t about to turn back. Not now. He gave me that same lazy grin, tipping his hat just slightly as his eyes twinkled with amusement, like he knew exactly what I was feeling.

I opened my mouth to say something — anything — but the words got stuck somewhere between my head and my heart. All I knew was that I wasn’t leaving this bar without knowing who the hell this guy was.

He looked down at me, that lazy grin spreading wider as he tipped his hat back just a bit, giving me a full view of those mischievous eyes. “Well, if I knew your singing was that good, I would’ve pretended to break my heart a long time ago,” he said, his voice low and teasing, with just a hint of an accent that wasn’t from around here.

I blinked, caught completely off guard, and then burst into a laugh I hadn’t expected. “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to get a song out of me,” I shot back, still feeling the heat in my cheeks but trying to keep my cool.

He chuckled, leaning in just a little, close enough that I could feel the warmth coming off him. “Lucky for you, I’m not lookin’ to break any hearts tonight — just thought I’d make an impression.”

My heart skipped a beat as our eyes met again, and before I could help it, I smiled. “I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job of that,” I muttered, trying not to trip over my own words.

He straightened up, giving me a playful wink. “Well, I aim to please, darlin’.”

I raised an eyebrow, feeling bolder than I had all night, and shot him a smirk. “You look like you love me,” I teased, the words slipping out with more confidence than I thought I had. The line from that song was on the tip of my tongue, and it felt just right for the moment.

His grin widened, and for a split second, he looked like I’d caught him off guard. But then he leaned in just a little, his voice low and smooth. “Well, maybe I do,” he said, the teasing tone still there but with just enough seriousness to make my heart skip.

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing as I met his gaze, my smirk fading into something softer. “Careful,” I replied, my voice quieter now, “you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

He chuckled, that lazy grin still in place. “Maybe I like the sound of that.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes at him with a playful smirk. “I saw you lookin’ me up and down from across the room,” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “You weren’t exactly being subtle.”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he leaned a little closer, clearly enjoying the banter. “Subtle’s never been my strong suit,” he shot back, his voice low and smooth. “But hey, can you blame me? You were up there making it pretty hard not to look.”

I bit my lip, fighting back a laugh as I shook my head. “You got a lot of nerve saying that out loud, you know.”

He shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “Just calling it like I see it. You’re the one who beckoned me up here, remember?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my composure, but I could feel the heat in my cheeks again. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m not subtle either.”

He tilted his head, giving me that same cocky grin. “No complaints here, darlin’.”

I laughed, shaking my head at his audacity. “Alright, mystery man, you’ve been charming me for the last few minutes, but you haven’t even told me your name yet.”

He leaned back slightly, tipping his hat with a playful glint in his eyes. “Name’s Daniel,” he said, his accent wrapping around the words just right. “And you, miss, have definitely made this night a lot more interesting.”

“Well, Daniel,” I replied, giving him a once-over just like he had done to me earlier, “I think the feeling’s mutual.”

I raised an eyebrow, still grinning as I asked, “So, where’s that accent of yours from? I know it ain’t local.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before answering, “Perth. Australia.”

I blinked, genuinely surprised. “Australia, huh? Never been there before.” I paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “Heard it’s nice, though. Beaches and all that.”

Daniel nodded, his grin widening a bit. “Yeah, we’ve got the beaches. But it’s more than just that. You should visit sometime, I’d make a pretty good tour guide.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Oh, I bet you would,” I said, trying to imagine what it would be like to visit a place so far from Texas. “Sounds like a whole world away from here.”

“It is,” he admitted, his eyes locking on mine again. “But I reckon you’d fit in just fine.”

I tilted my head, feeling a smirk pull at the corner of my lips. “Oh, you think so? I’m not exactly the ‘surf and sand’ kind of girl. I’m more boots and dirt roads.”

Daniel chuckled, his gaze still holding mine, like he was seeing straight through the sass and into something deeper. “I dunno, I think you could rock the Aussie lifestyle. Maybe even swap those boots for some thongs,” he teased, leaning in just enough to close the space between us a little more.

I blinked, the word catching me off guard, and then burst into laughter. “What the fuck are thongs?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You Aussies have some weird ideas about footwear.”

Daniel paused for a second, then laughed, realizing his mistake. “Oh, right... over here, thongs are something else entirely,” he said, his grin turning a little mischievous. “In Australia, they’re just flip-flops. But I like where your mind went.”

I felt my face flush, a mix of the whiskey and the sudden innuendo hitting me all at once. “Well, maybe you should clarify next time,” I shot back, trying to sound confident despite the warmth creeping up my neck. “I was starting to think you had some very bold ideas for this first conversation.”

He smirked, leaning in just a little closer. “Trust me, if I wanted to make a bold suggestion, I wouldn’t be talking about footwear.” His voice dropped low, teasing, as he let the words hang between us.

My heart skipped a beat, and I fought the urge to stammer. “Well, good to know,” I managed to reply, my voice quieter now, my gaze locked on his. “But for the record, boots are staying. Thongs or no thongs.”

He chuckled, the laughter low and warm, and I could feel the space between us shrink even more. “Noted,” he said, his eyes twinkling with that same playful spark. “But if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here to help you pick the right pair.”

I smirked, shaking my head, but before I could respond, he tilted his head, still grinning like he had a whole world of charm left to unleash.

“Well, if I can make it out here to a bar in Texas, maybe one day you could try Australia. I’d personally make sure it’s worth your while.”

I raised an eyebrow, amused by his confidence. “Big promises, Daniel from Perth. You must think pretty highly of your tour guide skills.”

He shrugged, a playful glint still in his eyes. “Just sayin’, you might find there’s more to life than boots and honky-tonks. Besides,” he added, his voice lowering slightly, “I’d make sure you’d never forget it.”

My heart skipped a beat, his words sending a rush of warmth through me. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck again, but I wasn’t about to back down. “Careful now,” I replied, my voice soft but steady, “I’m not so easily impressed.”

Daniel grinned, tipping his hat slightly as he leaned back. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to work a little harder then, won’t I?”

I grinned at him, crossing my arms as I leaned against the bar. “You’ve got a lot of confidence, Daniel from Perth. But I’ve been around enough smooth talkers to know when someone’s bluffing.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to keep the playful tension in the air. “Bluffing? I don’t bluff. Just telling it like it is.” He motioned to the bartender. “Let me prove it to you. First round’s on me.”

I laughed, shaking my head but not protesting as the bartender slid two drinks our way. “Fine, I’ll bite,” I said, taking the glass. “But I’ll have you know, Texans can hold their liquor, and I’m not easy to out-drink.”

Daniel’s grin only widened. “Oh, I’ve got my work cut out for me, then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

We clinked our glasses together, and before I knew it, the drinks were flowing just as easily as the conversation. Time seemed to blur, the crowd around us fading into the background as we swapped stories and traded teasing remarks. My guitar, once my only focus of the night, now sat forgotten against a pole near the bar, its case propped up and covered with old stickers and layers of chipped paint from the years of wear. But I didn’t care.

“Okay, I have to ask,” I said, my words slightly slurred from the whiskey but still full of curiosity. “How does a guy from Australia end up here, of all places? Texas isn’t exactly next door.”

He took a long sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving mine. “Racing,” he replied simply, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “I travel a lot for it. Came for the Austin Grand Prix. Thought I’d stop by a local bar, get a feel for the place. Lucky me, huh?”

I felt the warmth from the drinks spreading through me, loosening me up even more. “Racing, huh? So, what, you’re like a big-time driver?” I teased, nudging him with my elbow.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Something like that. But tonight, I’m just a guy trying to keep up with a Texas girl who’s got a pretty good whiskey tolerance.”

I grinned, feeling the heat in my cheeks and not just from the alcohol. “Well, you’re doing alright so far. But don’t think a few drinks and a smile are gonna get you off the hook that easy.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Daniel said, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes held mine for a moment longer than I expected, and I could feel my heart race a little faster.

We laughed together, leaning in closer, drinks in hand, the weight of the night slipping away. The bar around us blurred into the background, as if it didn’t matter anymore — just the two of us, the warmth of his touch, the easy rhythm of our conversation, as natural as the music I’d been playing hours ago. Our hands brushed more often, his arm finding its way around my shoulder, his fingers trailing down my back in moments that felt casual but were charged with something more.

Before I knew it, we were touching more than talking — my hand resting on his arm, his thumb grazing the small of my back. The buzz of the alcohol had me feeling light, and every time his fingertips lingered a little longer, a blush crept up my neck. I could feel the heat of his breath as he leaned closer to whisper something that had us both giggling again.

The next thing I knew, we were stumbling out of the bar, calling an Uber, the cool night air doing nothing to shake the warmth between us. The ride was a blur of drunken laughter, our legs pressing against each other as his arm wrapped snugly around my waist. The city lights flew by in a haze, but all I could focus on was the way his touch made my heart race. His grip on me tightened, pulling me closer, and I was too drunk and too tipsy to even pretend not to blush.

Then, suddenly, we were back at his hotel room. The door clicked shut behind us, and we both broke into a fit of giggles, stumbling inside like we were sneaking in after curfew. His arm never left my waist, and I couldn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach as he pulled me against him, the warmth of his body sending a shiver down my spine.

“Shhh,” I whispered between giggles, trying to stifle the sound, but it was impossible when he looked at me with that boyish grin, like he was having the time of his life.

“Quiet was never my strong suit,” he whispered back, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke, sending another wave of heat through me. I blushed even harder, barely able to keep my composure as he pressed his forehead against mine, his hand resting on my hip like he never wanted to let go.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, every inch of me aware of his body so close, his touch gentle but firm, like he was holding back just enough. His breath was warm against my skin, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along my side, and the more he touched me, the more I felt my resolve slipping.

I let out a soft, nervous laugh, trying to shake off the tension building between us, but it only made him grin wider. “You’re really bad at this whole ‘quiet’ thing,” I teased, my voice barely above a whisper as my hand slid up to rest against his chest. I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my palm, and the closeness of it all made my own pulse race.

He chuckled softly, his hand tightening just slightly on my hip. “Yeah, well, it’s hard to stay quiet when I’m this close to you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of something deeper than just the alcohol. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, everything else fell away. It was just us, standing there, barely holding it together in the haze of the night.

Before I could think about it, I found myself leaning in, my breath catching as his lips brushed against mine, soft and teasing. It wasn’t a full kiss — just the faintest touch — but it sent a jolt through me that made my knees weak. I blushed again, harder this time, but I didn’t pull away. Neither did he.

Instead, he smiled against my lips, his hand sliding up from my hip to gently cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheek. “You’re blushing again,” he whispered, and I could hear the teasing note in his voice.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, but there was no hiding the heat in my cheeks or the way I was leaning into him, my body betraying how much I wanted to be close.

We started kissing, and the night blurred together, in a mess of liquor, sticky kisses, and well what do you know, my guitar lay upright against a chair, watching the entire thing.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

I didn’t know where the fuck I was.

I blinked, staring up at a ceiling that definitely wasn’t mine, with sheets that smelled way too expensive for my budget. My head was pounding like I’d been hit by a freight train, and as I tried to roll over, something — no, someone — stopped me.

That’s when I felt it.

An arm. A very muscular arm. Draped over me like we were starring in a rom-com, except I definitely didn’t remember signing up for this role.

I squinted around the room, trying to piece together the disaster that was my life. My shirt was flung haphazardly across a chair, my boots were tipped over near the door, and... was that his cowboy hat sitting on the dresser? Oh god.

Oh god, no.

And then it all came rushing back — the whiskey, the dancing, the flirting, the thongs conversation. And then, as if on cue, the faint sound of an alarm started buzzing on his phone, because apparently this guy sets alarms like a responsible adult after a night of drunken debauchery.

“Well, shit,” I muttered under my breath.

I lay there, trying to pretend I was still asleep, or dead, or invisible—any of which would be preferable to dealing with the fact that I had absolutely no idea what to do next. Daniel’s arm was still heavy around my waist, his slow, steady breathing telling me he hadn’t woken up yet.

Okay, Y/N, just stay calm. Maybe he won’t even remember… Or maybe you can just ninja your way out of this without waking him up.

I carefully, carefully shifted my leg, inching toward freedom, but the moment I tried to move, Daniel stirred. His arm tightened around me slightly, and I froze, heart pounding in my chest like it was trying to break free and escape the situation without me.

Please don’t wake up. Please just keep dreaming about kangaroos or whatever it is Australians dream about...

But then I felt him shift again. This time, he let out a low, sleepy groan. Oh god. He was waking up. I could feel the warmth of his breath against the back of my neck, and my entire body went stiff, like maybe if I played dead, he’d just go back to sleep.

But nope.

I heard him take a deep breath, and then his groggy voice cut through the awkward silence. “Morning, darlin’.”

Shit.

His voice was raspy, deep, and far too casual for someone who had a front-row seat to my current state of oh-my-god-what-have-I-done. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the ground to just swallow me whole, but apparently, the universe didn’t grant those kinds of wishes.

I cleared my throat, still trying to stay as still as possible, like maybe if I didn’t move or respond, this entire moment would cease to exist. “Uh… morning,” I finally muttered, my voice betraying me with a nervous crack.

I could feel him shift behind me, and then — to my absolute horror — he pulled me in closer, his arm still firmly wrapped around my waist. Great. Now I’m spooning a guy I barely know, and I don’t even have a shirt on. What a stellar life choice, Y/N.

“So… how’re you feelin’?” he asked, his voice low and way too smooth for a guy who probably didn’t have a hangover.

How am I feeling? Like I’ve just woken up in a rom-com, except the comedy is my life falling apart, I thought, but instead, I just blurted, “Fine. Totally fine.”

My face was heating up again. I was like a human tomato at this point. I could feel him smiling behind me, like he was enjoying the fact that I was internally combusting.

“You don’t sound fine,” he teased, his voice dipping into that playful tone that I was beginning to realize was very dangerous for me.

I finally turned my head just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He had that messy bedhead look going on — the kind that shouldn’t be attractive but somehow was, and that damn lazy grin hadn’t left his face.

“Listen,” I said, trying to inject some semblance of control into my voice, “we’re just gonna pretend like none of this happened, okay?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, sending a shiver down my spine. “You mean the part where you dragged me back to my room, or the part where you kept giggling every time I tried to be quiet?”

My eyes widened. “I did not drag you back here!”

“Yeah, I think the Uber driver might disagree with that,” he replied, his grin widening.

I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

“You and me both, darlin’,” he said, chuckling again as he gave my waist a playful squeeze. “But I gotta say, I’m not exactly complaining’.”

I let out a nervous laugh from under the blanket, but inside, I was mortified. I wasn’t the type to have one-night stands—like, ever. The last time I had one was three years ago, before Johnny and I started dating. And even then, I’d sworn it off because of how awkward and weird the whole thing felt afterward.

And the last time I’d had sex? Six months ago. Six. I wasn’t even sure how I managed last night, let alone with someone as confident and charming as Daniel. I didn’t do this. I wasn’t that girl who woke up in a stranger’s bed with her shirt somewhere across the room and no memory of how she got there.

I peeked out from under the blanket, feeling my face burning hotter by the second. “I just… I don’t do this. Like, ever.”

Daniel propped himself up on one elbow, still grinning like this was the most entertaining morning he’d had in a while. “Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed like a pro last night.”

My eyes widened in horror. “Oh my god, don’t say that,” I groaned, burying my face back into the pillow. “This is so embarrassing.”

He laughed, his voice softening just a little. “Hey, no need to be embarrassed. We were both tipsy, had a good time, and now we’re just... waking up. Happens to the best of us.”

I peeked out from the pillow again, trying to gauge if he was just messing with me or being sincere. But the easygoing look on his face hadn’t changed. He didn’t seem fazed at all, while I was over here spiraling.

I let out a slow breath, trying to calm the chaotic thoughts running through my head. Okay, maybe I could play it cool too—pretend like I wasn’t freaking out. But as I shifted under the blanket, trying to figure out how to extract myself from this mess, I felt a sudden, horrifying realization.

No bra.

I stiffened, my eyes darting around the room, desperately trying to remember where the hell it went. My shirt was across the room, but no sign of the bra. Oh god.

I glanced at Daniel, who was watching me with that amused grin still plastered on his face. He noticed the moment I realized it—of course he did. His grin widened, and before I could even attempt to form a coherent excuse, he raised an eyebrow and deadpanned, “Looking for something, darlin’? Because I’m not sure it’s gonna walk back over here on its own.”

My face turned beet red. “I—uh—this is just…” I stammered, covering myself with the blanket more securely, like that would magically undo everything.

He let out a chuckle, clearly enjoying every second of my mortification. “Don’t worry, your shirt’s over there, and I think your bra… well, it might’ve decided to take an extended vacation,” he teased, pointing toward the floor, where it lay crumpled in the corner like some sort of defeated symbol of my night.

I buried my face in my hands, laughing despite myself. “This is so not how I thought my night would end,” I mumbled through my fingers.

Daniel leaned in, still grinning like the cat who got the cream. “If it helps, I think you handled yourself pretty damn well for someone who doesn’t ‘do this,’” he teased, his voice full of playful charm.

I groaned, unable to stop the embarrassed laughter bubbling out of me. “Oh my god, stop,” I muttered, half laughing, half dying inside. But there was something about his laid-back attitude, the way he wasn’t making this feel weird or awkward, that made me feel just a little better.

At least one of us was good at handling this kind of thing.

I couldn’t stop laughing now, even though every cell in my body wanted to melt into the mattress and disappear. But Daniel wasn’t letting up, his teasing coming in waves.

“You know,” he said with a grin, “I’ve heard of people losing their dignity after a night like this, but you managed to misplace your bra too. That’s impressive.”

I rolled my eyes, still hiding my face in my hands. “Oh, ha ha, very funny. Maybe I’ll just stay under this blanket forever.”

He chuckled again, sitting up slightly and stretching, looking way too comfortable considering the situation. “Can’t say I blame you. This bed is pretty damn nice. But I’m starting to think you’re just stalling because you don’t want to leave me.”

I shot him a glare, trying to smother the blush on my cheeks. “I’m not stalling. I’m just… regrouping.”

“Right,” he nodded sagely. “Regrouping. Take all the time you need, darlin’. I’ll just be over here, admiring your tactical approach to gathering your scattered clothing.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, finally throwing the blanket off and clumsily scrambling out of bed. My hair was a mess, and I was pretty sure I looked like I’d just survived a tornado, but I was determined to reclaim some shred of dignity. As I stumbled over to where my shirt lay crumpled across the chair, Daniel’s voice piped up again.

“Wow,” he said, a little quieter this time, and I turned to see him watching me with an entirely different look—more serious, though still with that glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I gotta say, you’re even more beautiful in the morning.”

I paused, my hand halfway to my shirt, and felt my heart do a little flip. “Really?” I asked, trying not to sound too flustered as I glanced at him.

He nodded, that easy smile still on his face but softer now. “Yeah. Really.”

I stared at him for a second, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks again but in a different way this time. There was something about the way he said it, so casual and genuine, that made me stop caring so much about the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Well,” I said, finally grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head, “you’re not too bad yourself… for someone who’s spent the night making terrible jokes at my expense.”

Daniel laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I can’t help it. You make it way too easy.”

I shook my head, still smiling, as I gathered the rest of my things. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talking. I’ll be sure to remember all of this next time I decide to ‘misplace’ my bra.”

Daniel grinned, watching as I gathered up the last of my things, still laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Well, if you ever need help finding it again,” he said smoothly, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at me with that lazy smile, “you might wanna give me a way to contact you.”

I paused, looking over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you think you’re slick, huh?”

He shrugged, giving me an innocent look that was anything but. “Just thinking ahead. In case you lose any more important items in the future… like your phone, your hat—hell, your sense of direction, since you clearly needed help last night.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “You really think I’m gonna fall for that?”

He tilted his head, flashing a charming grin. “Darlin’, you already fell for it.”

I let out an exasperated sigh, but there was no denying the grin on my face as I grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “Fine, I’ll put my number in your phone. But if I get any messages about lost bras, I’m blocking you,” I teased, typing my number into his contacts and tossing the phone back to him.

He caught it effortlessly, grinning as he glanced down at the screen. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, winking. “Unless you’re the one sending me a distress call next time.”

I shook my head, smirking as I turned toward the door. “You wish.”

“Already do,” he called out behind me, his voice playful and teasing, but with just enough sincerity to make my heart skip a beat as I left the room.

As soon as I stepped out of the room and into the hallway, I let out a long breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding. Relief washed over me, but so did the heat rising up my neck and into my cheeks. Holy hell, I actually survived that.

I stood there for a moment, my heart still racing from the whirlwind of the morning. Daniel’s playful smirk, his damn smooth lines—it was all still buzzing in my head, and the fact that I’d somehow managed to walk away with my dignity (mostly) intact felt like a miracle.

But then I caught sight of myself in the mirror at the end of the hallway. Oh no.

I was a mess. My hair looked like it had been through a windstorm, and my shirt from last night was wrinkled beyond repair. The smudged mascara under my eyes was giving me a whole new level of “walk of shame,” and I couldn’t help but cringe at my reflection.

This is what I left the room looking like? Oh, great.

I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, trying to smooth out the wild tangles and make myself look at least halfway decent. I tugged at the hem of my shirt, trying to straighten it out, but no matter what I did, it still screamed “last night’s mistakes.” I wiped away the smudged mascara with the edge of my sleeve, doing my best to clean up the damage.

My cheeks were still flushed from the sheer embarrassment of it all, and no amount of quick fixes was going to change the fact that I had just walked out of a guy’s hotel room looking like a hot mess. I bit my lip, shaking my head at myself in the mirror, my heart still pounding in my chest.

“Well, this is a look,” I muttered to myself, giving my reflection one last, exasperated glance before squaring my shoulders and heading for the elevator. Just get out of here, Y/N. Fast.

I smoothed my hair down one last time, took a deep breath, and headed toward the elevator, praying no one else in the hallway had witnessed my tragic attempt at post-hookup self-repair. The faster I got out of this hotel, the better. I was already pressing the elevator button repeatedly like I could summon it faster through sheer desperation.

Come on, come on…

Finally, the doors slid open, and I practically leaped inside. But the universe had other plans for me, because standing right there, already in the elevator, were Carrie and Johnny.

My heart stopped. I almost crapped my panties.

Carrie, my ex-best friend. Johnny, my ex-boyfriend. Of course they were here. Of all the elevators in this damn hotel. My stomach dropped as the realization hit me like a freight train, and suddenly I was right back in the middle of the heartbreak they’d both caused, except this time I looked like I’d just rolled out of a frat party.

I stared at them, my mind racing, wondering if I could somehow reverse time and avoid stepping into this death trap. But it was too late. I was standing there, and they were looking at me. Johnny’s eyes flicked up and down, taking in my rumpled clothes and messy hair. Carrie’s smile faltered, and her eyes widened, like she was realizing exactly what kind of morning I was having.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“Y/N?” Carrie’s voice was soft but laced with that familiar fake concern. “Wow, it’s been a while.”

Johnny just stood there, staring, that stupid, unreadable look on his face. He didn’t say anything, but the awkward silence hung in the air like a thick cloud.

I forced a tight smile, trying not to visibly cringe. “Yeah, well... things have been... busy.”

The elevator doors closed with a quiet thud, sealing me in with them. It was, without a doubt, the longest elevator ride of my life. I could feel Johnny’s eyes on me, that same calculating gaze that used to make me second-guess everything I said. And Carrie? She had that look on her face—the one that said she was definitely going to gossip about this later.

I stared straight ahead, willing the elevator to move faster, trying to breathe through the tension. Every second felt like an eternity, the silence only broken by the soft hum of the elevator as it slowly, agonizingly descended.

My mind raced. Of all the mornings to run into them, this had to be the one where I was dressed in last night’s wrinkled shirt, and my hair looked like it had gone to war with a curling iron. The fact that I’d just come from Daniel’s hotel room made it worse. Much worse.

I could feel the heat creeping up my neck again, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment over Daniel. It was from pure mortification.

Finally—finally—the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to the lobby. I didn’t waste a second. “Well, this has been… fun,” I said, voice tight, and bolted out of the elevator like my life depended on it.

Behind me, I could feel their eyes still on me, and I could practically hear Carrie’s voice in my head already: Did you see Y/N this morning?

Kill me now.

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart dropping into my stomach. Oh no. No, no, no.

This wasn’t just any hotel.

This was Carrie’s hotel. Her family’s pride and joy. The one I had spent countless summer nights in when we were best friends, long before everything fell apart. Out of all the hotels in Austin, Daniel had to be staying at the one owned by Carrie’s family.

I groaned internally, my mind reeling. Of course, this was how my morning would go. The universe just loved to test me, apparently. I could already imagine Carrie’s smug little face, probably telling her family all about how I’d been seen leaving some guy’s room at her family’s hotel, looking like a mess. And Johnny—ugh, Johnny—had been right there to see it all, too. The two of them were probably plotting how to make this even more humiliating for me.

I felt my cheeks burn again, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was from sheer frustration. Out of all the places Daniel could have stayed, this had to be the one. What were the odds?

I shook my head, trying to compose myself, but the realization only made me want to crawl under a rock even more. Not only did I have the most awkward elevator ride in history with my cheating ex and ex-best friend, but now I was in their territory. This was their turf, and I just walked straight into it with no idea.

This day just keeps getting better and better, I thought bitterly, glancing around to make sure neither of them had followed me out of the elevator.

I glanced back at the lobby, memories flooding back from when Carrie and I used to run around this very place, pretending we were in some grand adventure. Funny how things had changed. So much for avoiding drama.

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yourusername

liked by user1, user2, and 10,289 others

yourusername: t-3 days until my sophomore album "The Cowgirls, Guns, & Horses" comes out, can't wait for everyone to hear it #tcgh

user1: i'm wayyy too excited for #tcgh i just know ts is too good

user2: everyone say amen for y/n for dropping out of uni to bless us with amazing music

user3: yeah it's literally crazy too , like she was going to be an engineer and literally quit her last year...😦😦

user2: it's lowkey sad but AT LEAST WE HAVE MUSICCC YASSS

user4: guys...did we see her on twt last night w a certain someone....

user5: wait no??!?! hello please fill me in on the tea 📖

user4: basically some op saw her in a bar with a shit ton our tourists, turns out one of them was non other than F1 DRIVER DANIEL RICCIARDO

user5: THERES NO WAY???

user6: wait who's that... i'm so out of the loop for pop culture guys... 😭😭🙏🏽

user7: he's this super famous formula one driver (drives fast cars in weird shaped circles) from australia and he LOVES the country

user8: yeah... he wears a cowboy hat so much its kind of goofy

user9: yeah and allegedly, SOMEONE SAW THEM GO SOMEWHERE IN A CAR TOGETHER 😃💃🏻

user10: DAMNNNN @/yourusername.... was the d fire 🔥🚒🧯

user11: @/user10 LMFAO GTFOOO

user12: wait so i know this album is gonna be lowkey sad but like what if she pops up w some suprise songs about daniel's cowboy...

user13: i'm DEAD what if she actually reads the comments

user12: i would simply pass tf away!!

danielricciardo

liked by user1, user2, and 109,110 others

danielricciardo: Save a horse, ride a cowboy #austingp

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I slid into the backseat of my Uber, letting out a long, frustrated sigh as I slumped against the door. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, but I waved off any small talk with a quick, “Rough morning.”

As we pulled away from the hotel, I scoffed, shaking my head at myself. Did I seriously just spend money to Uber to and from a booty call? The thought made me cringe. Out of all the impulsive decisions I’d made in my life, this one was quickly climbing the ranks. I mean, come on—Ubering to a random hotel was bad enough, but having to ride back in shame after? That was a whole new level of poor life choices.

By the time the Uber pulled up to my house, I was already mentally preparing to face the walk of shame into my own home. I quietly slipped inside, trying to be as stealthy as possible, when suddenly—

“Boo!”

I jumped a mile high, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest as my younger sister, Maddie, popped out of nowhere, grinning like a cat who caught a canary.

“Jesus, Maddie!” I whisper-yelled, clutching my chest. “What is wrong with you?”

Maddie raised an eyebrow, eyes immediately trailing up and down my disheveled outfit. “Uh, is that the same thing you wore yesterday?” she asked, crossing her arms with a knowing smirk. “Did you... seriously just come back from—”

I slapped my hand over her mouth before she could finish the sentence, my eyes wide. “Shh! Keep it down!” I hissed. “We are not having this conversation out here.”

Her eyes twinkled mischievously, but she nodded under my hand, so I let her go. I grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the hall, sneaking into my room like we were plotting a heist. Once inside, I shut the door behind us and turned to face her, arms crossed.

Maddie sat on the edge of my bed, looking way too pleased with herself. “Spill,” she said, not even bothering with a polite lead-in.

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Fine. But you cannot tell anyone.”

She mimed zipping her lips and leaned in, ready for the juicy details.

“So…” I began, pacing the room. “Last night was a complete disaster. I ended up—well, you know—at some guy’s hotel room.”

Maddie’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? You? Miss ‘I Don’t Do Hookups’?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I muttered, flopping down beside her on the bed. “I don’t even know how it happened. We were drinking, flirting… one thing led to another, and next thing I know, I wake up in his bed.”

Maddie let out a low whistle. “Damn. And?”

“And…” I sighed, running a hand through my tangled hair. “It gets worse. Guess who I ran into on the elevator this morning?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh no, who?”

“Carrie. And Johnny,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

Maddie’s mouth dropped open in shock. “No way. You ran into both of them? At the hotel?”

I nodded miserably. “Yup. Turns out the hotel I was in? Carrie’s family’s hotel. Of course.”

She gasped dramatically, covering her mouth. “Oh my god, Y/N, that’s… that’s awful but kind of hilarious.”

I shot her a glare, though a small smile tugged at my lips. “Yeah, hilarious for you maybe. For me? Literal nightmare.”

Maddie giggled, clearly enjoying the chaos of my morning. “So, did they say anything?”

“Not really. Just awkward stares and Carrie’s fake concern. The whole thing was a disaster. I swear, I am never doing this again,” I said, shaking my head.

She grinned, nudging me with her elbow. “Never say never. But hey, at least you’ve got a hell of a story now.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Trust me, I could’ve done without this particular story.”

I stared at the ceiling, still trying to process the absolute train wreck of a morning I’d just experienced, when Maddie’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“So, who’s this mystery guy you hooked up with?” she asked, nudging me again with a smirk.

I bit my lip, hesitating. Should I even say it? It felt surreal—like it wasn’t even real life—but what the hell, I was already in deep. “You’re not gonna believe this,” I muttered, sitting up and bracing myself. “His name’s Daniel. Daniel Ricciardo.”

Maddie’s jaw dropped so fast I thought it might hit the floor. “WHAT?!” she practically screamed, her eyes going wide with excitement. “THE Daniel Ricciardo? You slept with Daniel Ricciardo? As in F1 driver Daniel Ricciardo?”

I blinked, confused at her over-the-top reaction. “Uh, yeah? I mean, he said he’s a driver or something, but... I don’t really follow racing, so I didn’t think much of it.”

Maddie grabbed my shoulders, shaking me like I was the one losing my mind. “Y/N, are you serious? How did you not know who that was? He’s super famous! Like, ridiculously famous!”

I blinked, completely taken aback. “Wait, what? Famous famous?”

Maddie rolled her eyes, like I was the most clueless person on the planet. “Yes, famous famous! He’s one of the most popular Formula 1 drivers in the world! You know, the sport where they race the fastest cars? And, uh, hello, the Austin Grand Prix is in like five days! How do you not know this?”

My mouth dropped open as I tried to wrap my brain around what she was saying. “The Austin Grand Prix? You mean that thing that brings in all those tourists every year?”

“Yes! Exactly!” Maddie threw her hands up in the air, looking like she couldn’t believe my ignorance. “F1 is huge, Y/N. There are races all over the world, and Daniel Ricciardo is, like, one of the biggest personalities in the sport. People love him. He’s been racing for years, and he’s known for being super charismatic and... oh my god, you really didn’t know?”

I shook my head, completely floored. “I mean, he did say something about racing, but I didn’t realize it was that kind of racing. I just thought he meant, like, NASCAR or something.”

Maddie smacked her forehead. “Oh my god, you’re killing me. F1 is way bigger than NASCAR! It’s like the most elite motorsport in the world. And Daniel’s been racing for some of the top teams. How did you not realize you were with an actual celebrity?”

I stared at her, my mind reeling. “So, you’re telling me I just… slept with a world-famous driver and didn’t even realize it?”

Maddie nodded emphatically, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Yup! And honestly, I’m a little jealous. I mean, Daniel Ricciardo, Y/N! He’s a big deal! Girls all over the world would kill to be in your position.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed, my hands covering my face. “Oh my god, I cannot believe this. I slept with a celebrity, and I didn’t even know it. What is my life?”

Maddie giggled, clearly having way too much fun with this. She flopped down next to me on the bed, her grin as wide as Texas. “Girl, don’t even stress. You’re a celebrity now too! You and Daniel Ricciardo? That’s some next-level, power couple stuff right there.”

I groaned louder, pressing my palms against my face. “Maddie, stop. I’m not a celebrity. I’m a girl who just had a really, really embarrassing one-night stand.”

She nudged me with her elbow, smirking. “Nah, you’re thinkin’ too small, sis. Just picture it! You’re up on stage with your guitar, singin’ your heart out, and Daniel’s out there in the crowd, front and center, lookin’ all fine and proud of his lil’ cowgirl.”

I rolled over onto my side, staring at her in disbelief. “Maddie, please. You’re daydreamin’ way too hard right now.”

But she wasn’t even listening, lost in her own fantasy. “Y’all could be, like, the ultimate couple. Country singer and an F1 driver? Hell, people would eat that up! He’d be all, ‘This here’s my gal, Y/N,’ and you’d be sittin’ there in the paddock, rockin’ those fancy hats like a boss. Shoot, you two would be in all the magazines!”

I shot her a look. “Maddie, we’re not even dating. It was one night, and I barely knew who he was until five minutes ago.”

She waved her hand, brushing off my concerns like dust off a pair of boots. “Psh, technicalities. I’m just sayin’, y’all could make waves. You’d be the talk of Texas and everywhere else too. Like a regular old-fashioned Bonnie and Clyde, but with less crime and more racin’.”

I laughed despite myself. “Yeah, sure. A cowgirl and a race car driver. That’ll be the day.”

Maddie wiggled her eyebrows. “Hey, you never know! Y’all could be splittin’ your time between the racetrack and the rodeo. And if anyone can pull off being a celebrity couple, it’s my big sis.”

I sat up, shaking my head but unable to keep the smile off my face. “You’re ridiculous.”

She grinned wide, leaning back on her elbows. “I know, but tell me I’m wrong.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to push away the ridiculous idea. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Maddie’s wild daydreams weren’t entirely out of reach.

Just as Maddie was about to launch into another wild daydream about me and Daniel conquering the world, there was a sharp knock on my door.

“Y/N? Maddie? What are y’all doin’ in there?” my mom’s voice called out from the hallway.

My eyes widened in horror. “Oh, crap,” I whispered, looking down at my crumpled shirt and yesterday’s jeans. No way could Mom see me like this. Not after last night.

Maddie, ever the quick thinker, jumped up, eyes wide. “You gotta change! Quick, or she’ll know!”

I scrambled off the bed, frantically grabbing the first pair of sweatpants I could find and yanking off my wrinkled jeans. “Uh, we’re just—hold on, Mom! Give us a sec!” I yelled back, pulling on the sweats and trying to find a shirt that didn’t scream ‘walk of shame.’

Mom knocked again, louder this time, sounding more impatient. “What’s takin’ so long? Y’all up to no good in there?”

Maddie shot me a panicked look, then, in true Maddie fashion, she came up with the most absurd lie possible. “Mom, we’re—uh—just checking if Y/N has a wart down there!”

My head snapped up so fast I nearly fell over. “WHAT?”

Maddie’s eyes were wide with mischief as she mouthed, Just go with it!

Mom was silent for a second, and then I heard a heavy sigh. “A wart? Y’all expect me to believe that?”

Maddie waved her arms around frantically, trying to sell the lie. “Yeah! You know, like, one of those really weird ones! We didn’t wanna make a fuss about it, so we’re handling it ourselves.”

I threw on a hoodie, pulling it over my head as fast as I could, all while glaring at Maddie. “Are you kidding me?” I whispered through gritted teeth, but she just gave me a thumbs-up.

Mom’s patience was clearly wearing thin. “Well, can’t this wait until later? I need y’all downstairs now.”

Maddie’s eyes darted around, looking for an escape. “Uh, well, it’s kind of urgent, Mom! You don’t just leave a wart alone, right? It could get... worse! Way worse!”

I buried my face in my hands, trying not to burst out laughing at how ridiculous this had become. But Maddie wasn’t letting up, and my mom, bless her, was clearly not buying it.

“Alright, enough. I don’t care if there’s a whole forest of warts down there! Get your butts downstairs in two minutes or I’m coming in!” Mom’s voice was firm now, and I could hear her foot tapping impatiently outside the door.

Maddie shot me a guilty look as I finally finished pulling myself together. “Okay, okay, we’re coming!” I yelled back, exasperated but unable to stop giggling at how absurd this situation had become.

As soon as we heard Mom walk away from the door, I turned to Maddie, shaking my head. “A wart? Really? That’s your best lie?”

Maddie grinned, completely unbothered. “Hey, I had to think fast! Besides, you know Mom was gonna barge in here if we didn’t come up with something good.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “I swear, if I ever have to explain to her that I don’t have warts, you’re taking the blame.”

“Deal,” Maddie said with a grin, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the door. “Now let’s go before she drags us down there herself.”

Maddie and I hurried downstairs, trying our best to look normal — like we hadn’t just staged a ridiculous wart-related lie to keep Mom from barging into my room. As soon as we hit the bottom step, Mom was standing there with her arms crossed, eyeing us with that mom look that said she knew something was up but was choosing to let it slide for now.

She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Y’all got those warts handled? Need me to call a doctor or somethin’?”

I groaned, rolling my eyes as Maddie snickered beside me. “We’re fine, Mom,” I muttered, trying not to blush all over again. “No doctor necessary.”

Mom chuckled and shook her head. “Alright, then. I need you two to run to the mart for me.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a grocery list, handing it over. “Just a few things I need for tonight. Don’t dilly-dally.”

I took the list and scanned it, my mind still racing from the chaos of the morning. Eggs, milk, sugar—normal stuff. But then I spotted cilantro circled three times with a little note that said, “Don’t forget this time!!!”

I sighed, folding the list up and sticking it in my pocket. “Got it, Mom. Anything else? Want us to pick up some wart cream while we’re at it?” I teased, shooting Maddie a glance.

Maddie snorted, and Mom swatted me lightly on the arm. “Just get what’s on the list, smart mouth.”

We headed out the door and into the driveway, where Maddie tossed me the keys to my truck. “Your turn to drive,” she said, hopping into the passenger seat with a grin. “I’m still recovering from your fashion disaster this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, climbing into the driver’s seat. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” she said, smirking as I started the engine. The truck roared to life, and we pulled out of the driveway, heading toward the mart.

As we cruised down the road, the Texas sun beating down on us, I finally started to relax. The insanity of the morning was starting to fade, and it felt good to just drive, even if it was for groceries.

“Cilantro, huh?” Maddie said, glancing at the list as we pulled into the parking lot of the mart. “You better not forget that, or Mom’s gonna throw a fit.”

I parked the truck and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Yeah, I know. We’re on a cilantro mission now.”

We hopped out of the truck, laughing about the morning's chaos as we headed inside. At least now, it was just me, Maddie, and a simple grocery list to tackle.

Maddie and I wandered through the grocery store aisles, chatting about nothing in particular as we grabbed the items on Mom’s list. Everything was going smoothly until I remembered the cilantro.

“Maddie, I can’t forget the cilantro. Mom will kill me if I come back without it.” I scanned the store like I was hunting for buried treasure, and then—out of the corner of my eye—I spotted it. The last bunch of cilantro.

“There!” I practically shouted, pointing across the produce section. Without thinking, I made a mad dash for it, leaving Maddie behind as I zeroed in on my target. Nothing was going to stop me from getting this cilantro—not after what happened last time.

But just as I reached for it, my hand collided with someone else’s.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” a familiar voice said, as our hands both grabbed for the same bunch. “In a rush, are we?”

I looked up and found myself staring directly into Daniel’s mischievous eyes. My heart skipped a beat—of all people.

“You?” I blurted, both annoyed and surprised.

Daniel grinned, raising an eyebrow as his hand still held onto the cilantro. “What, you didn’t think you’d see me again?”

I blinked, trying to recover from the sudden collision, both physically and mentally. “I—uh—no, I just didn’t expect to be fighting you over a bunch of cilantro,” I said, still clutching the herb in one hand as he held the other end.

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, if you’d been a little slower, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him. “Slower? I was practically flying over here. I saw it first.”

“Oh, really?” He tilted his head, that playful smirk of his back in full force. “I’m pretty sure I had my hand on it before you did.”

“Dream on, Ricciardo,” I shot back, trying to yank the cilantro from his grip. “It’s mine.”

He tightened his hold, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Tell you what—we’ll share it.”

“Share?” I raised an eyebrow. “What, you want to split a bunch of cilantro? What are we, in preschool?”

Daniel laughed, pulling it toward him slightly. “I mean, it’s either that or you admit defeat.”

“Admit defeat?” I shot him a glare. “I don’t lose at grocery shopping.”

“Is that so?” His grin widened as he leaned in closer, his face just a little too close for comfort. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re losing.”

My cheeks flushed, and I yanked the cilantro again, this time breaking the bunch in half. “There. Now we’re both losers.”

He burst out laughing, holding up his half of the cilantro. “Fair enough. You really don’t like losing, do you?”

I crossed my arms, trying to hide the fact that I was blushing. “Not when I’m up against people who think they can out-shop me.”

Daniel leaned against the cart, still grinning like he was having the time of his life. “Alright, you win this round, but I’m telling you—next time, I’m taking the whole bunch.”

I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “Good luck with that.”

Just then, Maddie appeared behind me, her eyes going wide when she realized who I was standing next to. “Uh, Y/N? What’s going on here?”

I turned to Maddie, holding up my half of the cilantro. “Just winning a fight, that’s all.”

Daniel winked at Maddie before looking back at me. “More like a draw, if we’re being honest.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ricciardo.”

Maddie raised her eyebrows, her grin spreading. “Oh, this is definitely going in my scrapbook.”

Daniel chuckled, still holding his half of the cilantro like it was a prize. Just as I was about to turn away, he slipped something into my hand, so smooth I almost didn’t realize he’d done it.

I blinked, glancing down at the small folded piece of paper. “What’s this?” I asked, unfolding it carefully, my curiosity piqued.

Before I could even figure it out, Maddie was already craning her neck to see. Her eyes widened in excitement the second she caught a glimpse. “Oh my god, Y/N, do you even know what these are?!”

I looked at her, completely confused. “What do you mean?”

She pointed excitedly at the paper in my hands. “Those are paddock passes! For the Austin GP! You’ve got three-day passes to the entire race weekend! Do you even understand how hard these are to get?”

I stared down at the passes, my jaw practically hitting the floor. “Wait, what?”

Daniel smirked, casually leaning against his cart, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Yeah, figured you might want to see what all this F1 fuss is about, and I happened to have an extra pass. So, you know, if you’re not too busy fighting over cilantro.”

I looked up at him, completely floored. “You... got me paddock passes? For three days?”

He shrugged, looking way too casual about the whole thing. “What can I say? I’m glad I grabbed an extra one just in case.” His eyes flickered with that familiar playful glint. “And now, I’m even gladder.”

Maddie, still buzzing with excitement, suddenly stepped forward, grinning ear to ear. “Oh, where are my manners?” She extended her hand. “I’m Maddie, by the way. You know, the better sister.”

Daniel burst into laughter, shaking her hand. “Well, if you’re anything like your sister, I think I’m in for trouble.”

Maddie winked at him. “Trouble’s our middle name. But really, she’s the one you’ve gotta watch out for.”

I shot Maddie a glare, trying to keep my cool even though my heart was still racing. “Maddie, stop.”

Daniel grinned, turning his attention back to me. “I dunno, I kind of like trouble. Keeps things interesting.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck. “You just like making everything a competition.”

He tilted his head, that infuriatingly charming smirk still on his face. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like seeing how far I can push you.”

Maddie laughed, nudging me with her elbow. “Oh, he’s good, Y/N. Better watch out, or you’re gonna find yourself in the middle of a Grand Prix.”

Daniel grinned, leaning in just a little. “Well, with those passes, you might just end up front and center.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at how ridiculous this had all become. “You seriously just carry extra paddock passes around?”

“Only when I think they might come in handy,” he said, eyes glinting. “And I had a feeling you’d appreciate them more than anyone else here.”

I raised an eyebrow, still not entirely sure how this was my life. “You’re something else, you know that?”

He smiled, holding up his half of the cilantro. “Takes one to know one.”

I stared at the paddock passes in my hand, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Daniel Ricciardo—actual Formula 1 driver—had just handed me access to the most exclusive part of the Austin GP like it was no big deal. Meanwhile, Maddie looked like she was about to combust from excitement.

“I mean, front and center at a Grand Prix?” Maddie piped up, clearly having the time of her life with this. “Y/N, do you even understand how cool that is? You’re basically about to be part of the elite crowd. And you didn’t even know who he was two days ago.”

I shot her a look, trying not to blush as I turned back to Daniel. “I feel like I should be saying thanks, but... are you sure? This feels a little...”

“Too good to be true?” Daniel finished with a smirk, crossing his arms. “I get that a lot. But trust me, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. Plus, I didn’t want to go through the weekend wondering if you’d ever stop fighting over cilantro.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re really gonna hang onto that, aren’t you?”

“Only as long as it keeps you on your toes.” He grinned, his gaze holding mine a second longer than necessary. “Besides, now you’ve got no excuse not to come.”

Maddie, never one to miss an opportunity, jumped in with a grin. “Oh, she’ll be there. I’ll make sure of it. You’re looking at the world’s most stubborn person right here, but once she commits, she’s all in.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Is that so?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at my lips. “I wouldn’t listen to her. She’s just trying to recruit me into her fantasy F1 life.”

Maddie snorted. “Uh, you slept with Daniel Ricciardo, and now you’ve got paddock passes. I think that fantasy is turning into reality, sis.”

I groaned, rubbing my face in embarrassment. “Maddie, please.”

Daniel chuckled, glancing between the two of us. “You two are something else. This is probably the most fun I’ve had at a grocery store in... ever.”

I crossed my arms, half smiling despite myself. “Well, I guess we know who to thank for that. You’re really making a habit of surprising me, aren’t you?”

He leaned in just slightly, his grin widening. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Just wait ‘til you see what surprises I’ve got lined up for the weekend.”

Maddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Ooh, mysterious. I like it.”

I shot her a look but couldn’t help laughing. “Alright, fine. You win. I’ll come to the race.”

Daniel winked, clearly satisfied. “Knew you would. See you in the paddock, then.” He tipped his imaginary hat and turned to walk away, but not before flashing one last grin. “Don’t forget to bring your competitive spirit. You’re gonna need it.”

I watched him go, my heart still racing as Maddie practically squealed beside me. “Oh my god, Y/N! This is insane!”

I shook my head, laughing. “Yeah, it is. I can’t believe I’m actually going to an F1 race.”

Maddie grinned, nudging me again. “Not just any race. You’re going with Daniel freaking Ricciardo. Girl, this is like something out of a movie.”

I rolled my eyes, but a small part of me couldn’t deny how surreal—and thrilling—it all felt.

After successfully scouring the back of the store and miraculously finding one last bunch of cilantro hidden behind some parsley, Maddie and I made our way to the checkout. I could barely keep my head straight, still reeling from my unexpected run-in with Daniel, while Maddie was practically bouncing with excitement, shooting me side-glances the entire time we loaded up the cart.

Once we were through the checkout and back in the truck, Maddie wasted no time. As soon as I turned the ignition, she turned toward me, eyes wide with anticipation. "Okay, enough stalling. You have to give me details about the one-night stand. I mean, come on. It's Daniel Ricciardo! Spill it!"

I groaned, gripping the steering wheel and backing out of the parking spot. “Maddie, please.”

She crossed her arms, giving me her best "I’m-not-letting-this-go" look. “Oh, no, no. You’re not getting out of this one. I need the full rundown. Like, what happened? How did it happen? How is he? Is he a good—”

“Maddie!” I cut her off, feeling the heat rise to my face. “I am not telling you that.”

She smirked, not even remotely phased by my protests. “Oh, come on. Don’t act like you weren’t just as shocked to wake up next to him. I mean, how does someone like you,” she gestured to me dramatically, “end up in bed with someone like him?”

I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. “Trust me, I was just as surprised as you are. It wasn’t even planned! We were both tipsy, flirting at the bar... and, well, you know how those things go.”

Maddie practically squealed. “So, was it... like, really good?”

I groaned again, my face probably a bright shade of red by now. “Maddie, I’m not talking about that. Just know that... it was fine, okay? We were both drunk, and it happened. End of story.”

She pouted but kept pushing. “Ugh, fine. But was he sweet? Was he funny in the morning? Or did he just roll over and pretend like nothing happened?”

I snorted, shaking my head as I turned onto the road. “No, actually, he was... really chill about it. We joked around a bit, and he didn’t make it awkward. I mean, we even fought over cilantro in the grocery store, and he’s still as annoyingly charming as ever.”

Maddie let out a dreamy sigh. “Of course, he’s charming. Ugh, I bet that smile of his could get you to do anything. No wonder you ended up in his hotel room.”

I shot her a look. “Can you not make me sound like a complete pushover?”

She giggled, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying! You gotta admit, he’s got some serious game.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, he’s definitely got something. But honestly, I don’t even know what to make of it all. One minute, I’m waking up in his bed, and the next, I’ve got paddock passes for a whole race weekend.”

Maddie leaned back in her seat, eyes wide with curiosity. “Okay, okay, but I have to ask the important question.” She paused for dramatic effect, smirking like she was about to drop the most scandalous question of all time.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What now?”

She grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “Is it... big?”

I nearly choked on my own laughter, my face instantly heating up. “Maddie!” I exclaimed, giving her a light shove. “Oh my god, you can’t just ask that!”

She burst out laughing, completely unfazed. “Come on! You hooked up with a famous race car driver! You know I had to ask!”

I covered my face, shaking my head. “This is not happening right now.”

Maddie nudged me again, still giggling. “I’m just sayin’, you can’t drop all these details about Daniel freakin’ Ricciardo and expect me to not be curious! It’s, like, basic sister requirements.”

I sighed, laughing despite the embarrassment. “I’m not telling you that. Besides, some things are meant to be kept private!”

She threw her hands up in surrender, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Fine, fine. But I’m just gonna assume the answer’s yes based on how flustered you are right now.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing the grocery bags. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

She beamed at me, completely proud of herself. “It’s part of my charm. Now let’s go inside before Mom gets suspicious.”

We stepped out of the truck, and as we made our way toward the house, Maddie shot me one last teasing glance. “I still can’t believe this. You’re living the dream, sis. Now we just have to get you through the race without tripping over yourself.”

I laughed, shaking my head as we walked inside. “Easier said than done, trust me.”

Maddie winked. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to keep you grounded. And, you know, ask more questions about... size later.”

I groaned. “Maddie, I swear, if you bring that up again—”

She cut me off with a giggle. “Relax, I’ll save it for after the race. Maybe Daniel will answer it for me.”

I gave her a mock-serious glare as we stepped into the kitchen. “If you ask him anything remotely like that, I’ll personally disown you as my sister.”

Maddie just grinned, completely unfazed by my threat. “Oh, come on! You know you’re curious too. I bet Daniel’s the type to joke right back—he seems like he’s got that smooth banter down.”

I rolled my eyes, setting the grocery bags down on the counter. “Yeah, well, I’d rather not find out in front of you.”

She grabbed a bunch of cilantro, holding it up like it was a victory flag. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave at the race... but no promises if the opportunity presents itself.”

I groaned again, shaking my head. “You will kill me one day, you know?”

Maddie smirked as she placed the cilantro in the fridge, turning to me with a wink. “Hey, if you’re gonna be dating an F1 driver, you better get used to me asking all the embarrassing questions. It’s a sister’s job to keep things interesting.”

I felt my face flush at the mention of “dating” Daniel, quickly brushing it off. “Who said anything about dating? This was just a one-time thing.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. “Uh-huh, sure. You just happened to have a ‘one-time thing’ with Daniel Ricciardo, and now you’ve got three-day paddock passes? Girl, please.”

I crossed my arms, trying to sound firm. “We’re not dating.”

She gave me a knowing smile. “Maybe not yet, but trust me, once you’re up close and personal at that race, things might change. I mean, the man gave you paddock passes, Y/N. He’s clearly not done with you.”

I rolled my eyes again, but I couldn’t deny the flutter in my chest at her words. “Whatever, Maddie. Let’s just focus on surviving this weekend without you embarrassing me in front of him.”

Maddie grinned, stepping closer and nudging me with her elbow. “I make no promises. But I will say this—you better have fun. It’s not every day you get to hang out with a superstar. Just... remember to breathe when you see him again.”

I laughed, despite the butterflies in my stomach. “Yeah, yeah. Now help me finish putting these groceries away before Mom comes in and asks what’s taking so long.”

Maddie threw me a playful wink as she grabbed the rest of the groceries. “You got it. But I’m definitely asking for more details after the race.”

I groaned, but there was no hiding my smile. As much as Maddie drove me crazy, I couldn’t deny that having her along for this wild ride was exactly what I needed.

Maddie and I stepped into the kitchen, laughing and joking about who could embarrass me more at the race when we both suddenly stopped dead in our tracks.

Sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea like it was the most casual thing in the world, were Carrie and her mother, Savannah.

I froze, my heart sinking to my stomach. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

My mom glanced up, clearly trying to keep the peace with a polite smile, but there was no missing the tension in the air. “Oh, hey girls,” she said, in a tone that was way too casual for the situation. “We’re just having a little afternoon tea.”

Savannah gave us a small wave, her southern charm still as present as ever. “Hi, Y/N. Maddie. It’s been a while.”

Carrie glanced up at me, and for a second, I saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes. I could tell she was remembering the hotel elevator, just like I was. The awkward tension between us stretched out as thin as it could go.

In my head, a thousand thoughts ran wild. Why are they here? I knew the answer, though. My mom and Savannah had been cordial for years, mostly because they had to be. Both of them were rodeo managers for the same rodeo company, which meant they had to stay civil for the sake of work. The whole town knew their friendship was... well, strained at best. But here they were, playing nice over afternoon tea like it was some kind of forced social obligation.

Maddie, always the one to break awkward silences, cleared her throat. “Uh... hey, Mrs. Summers. Carrie.”

Carrie’s mom, Savannah, smiled politely, her perfect rodeo-queen hair barely moving as she lifted her teacup. “It’s lovely to see you two. Your mother and I were just catching up on the rodeo business.”

Of course you were, I thought bitterly. The rodeo world was so small, and no matter how much I wanted to avoid it—or Carrie—I couldn’t escape it.

My mom, sensing the tension, glanced between us. “Savannah and I were talking about the upcoming event. Looks like it’s going to be a busy season.”

Maddie shifted uncomfortably beside me. “Yeah, busy. Fun.” Her usual energy was suddenly subdued, which I knew was her way of trying to keep things from getting too awkward. Not that it was working.

Carrie, ever the queen of awkward stares, finally spoke, her tone as polite as ever. “It’s... good to see you, Y/N.” She hesitated, glancing at her mother before continuing. “How have you been?”

I forced a smile, trying not to let the awkwardness show on my face. “Great. Just, you know, busy.” Really busy fighting you in elevators and trying to forget you even exist.

Carrie nodded, sipping her tea, and the silence between us stretched even further. I could feel the weight of Savannah’s eyes on me, like she was silently assessing everything—our strained friendship, my disheveled appearance from running errands, everything.

Maddie, never one to let tension linger, piped up again. “Well, we just got back from the mart. You know, had to get that cilantro Mom keeps losing her mind over.”

Savannah smiled tightly. “Ah, yes. Cilantro can be tricky.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity of the moment, but I managed to hold it in, keeping the strained smile on my face. I just wanted this impromptu tea party from hell to be over with.

The silence in the kitchen stretched on, thick and awkward, like we were all waiting for something to break it but hoping it wouldn’t be us. I could feel Maddie’s discomfort beside me, her usual spark dimmed in the presence of Carrie and her mom. My mind raced with a mix of irritation and embarrassment—of all the days for them to be here, this had to be it.

Carrie set her teacup down gently, the soft clink of porcelain against porcelain filling the room like a final punctuation to the unbearable silence. She gave me a tight-lipped smile, that same fake pleasantness I’d grown used to over the years. “Well, it sounds like you’ve been keeping busy.”

Busy avoiding you, I thought, but instead I just nodded. “Yeah, something like that.” I forced a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

Savannah, ever the poised and perfect woman she was, glanced at my mom and then back at us, her hands wrapped neatly around her teacup. “It’s important to stay productive. Especially with everything going on in the rodeo season. You girls must be a big help around here.”

I bit back the urge to laugh. My mom might be cordial with Savannah for the sake of their professional lives as rodeo managers, but the subtext was loud and clear. They barely tolerated each other, both knowing that competition was part of their work, and now that tension had trickled down to Carrie and me—and Maddie by default.

Maddie, bless her, tried to keep things light. “Oh, we’re great at helping out... with, uh, grocery shopping.” She flashed a smile, holding up the cilantro like it was some grand prize. “Mom’s got us on strict cilantro duty these days.”

Mom shot Maddie a look, clearly not in the mood for her humor right now. “Thank you, Maddie.”

Savannah raised an eyebrow at Maddie’s comment, but kept her voice smooth. “Cilantro can make or break a meal, I suppose.”

Carrie glanced at me again, her eyes flicking up and down, probably still processing our awkward encounter in the hotel elevator. “You know,” she said, her voice too casual, “I think I saw you at the Hilton the other day, Y/N. Were you there for something special?”

My stomach dropped. Of course she’d bring it up.

“Yeah, I... had some errands downtown,” I said, trying to keep my tone even. No way was I going to let her know about Daniel, not with her mother sitting right there.

Maddie, though, being Maddie, had no such reservations about subtlety. “Oh, you know, just casually bumping into Formula 1 drivers. No big deal.”

Carrie’s eyes widened slightly, and I saw her mom’s eyebrows lift in surprise.

“Formula 1 drivers?” Savannah asked, her tone suddenly more interested than it had been for the entire tea party.

I shot Maddie a seriously? look, but she just grinned like she’d been waiting to drop this bomb the entire time. “Yeah, we ran into Daniel Ricciardo. Real nice guy.”

Carrie’s jaw tightened just slightly, and I could tell she was piecing it all together. She probably knew exactly what had happened in that elevator. “Wow, Daniel Ricciardo,” she said, her voice cool. “That’s... interesting.”

Savannah, ever the picture of elegance, nodded approvingly. “Well, that’s quite a meeting. Formula 1 is certainly prestigious. You must have made quite the impression.”

I resisted the urge to laugh. Yeah, I made an impression, alright. But instead, I shrugged, trying to play it off. “It was... unexpected.”

Carrie’s eyes flickered with something—maybe curiosity, maybe envy—but her lips pressed together in a tight line. “Unexpected, huh?” she said, her voice a little too casual. “I’m sure it was.”

I could tell she wasn’t buying my attempt to downplay the situation. She knew. She’d probably already started piecing together the story from the elevator and was likely imagining a whole different version of events—one where she could twist it into something more dramatic.

Savannah, on the other hand, smiled that perfectly polished smile she always had, but I could see a glint of interest in her eyes. “Well, you’re certainly moving in impressive circles these days, Y/N. Formula 1 drivers... that’s a step up from the usual rodeo crowd, don’t you think?”

I bit back a smirk. “I guess you could say that.”

Carrie’s jaw tightened a little more, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. She had that look on her face—the one that said she was already planning how to bring this up the next time she was with her friends. She’d never admit it, but the idea of me bumping into someone like Daniel Ricciardo clearly irked her.

She straightened up in her seat, brushing a lock of perfectly styled hair behind her ear. “Well, it must’ve been nice to meet someone so... prestigious,” she said, her tone dripping with false politeness. “I’m sure it was a brief encounter.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my cool. “Yeah, brief.” I decided it was better not to mention the three-day paddock passes in my back pocket. The less ammunition Carrie had, the better.

Savannah, still smiling, added, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you saw him again at some point. Those kinds of connections have a way of resurfacing.”

I nodded, doing my best to seem nonchalant, but I couldn’t help glancing at Carrie, who was staring at me with just a little too much interest.

Carrie leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing just a bit. “So, what did you two talk about? I mean, you don’t exactly strike me as the F1 type.”

I could feel Maddie practically vibrating with excitement beside me, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable Carrie was. “Oh, we talked about racing. Rodeo. Life,” I said, keeping my response vague. I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing more.

Carrie raised her eyebrow, sensing I wasn’t going to give her more details, but she couldn’t resist pushing a little further. “Rodeo, huh? That’s cute. I bet he found all of that... fascinating.”

Before I could respond, Maddie jumped in, her voice sweet but sharp. “Actually, he seemed really interested. You know, not everyone can handle a fast-paced life like Y/N’s. Some people are more into... exciting things.”

I shot Maddie a look, barely suppressing my grin as she winked at me.

Carrie’s smile faltered for just a second before she regained her composure. “Well, good for you, Y/N,” she said, her tone cold enough to send a chill through the room. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in with the race car crowd.”

Carrie’s words hung in the air like a challenge, her eyes flicking over me, searching for any sign of discomfort. But I wasn’t about to let her get the upper hand—not today.

I smiled, my voice steady. “I’m sure I will. After all, fast-paced lives aren’t for everyone.” I kept my tone light, but there was no missing the underlying message.

Carrie’s smile tightened, her fingers twitching slightly as she adjusted the strap of her designer bag. “Well, best of luck keeping up. Those kinds of people tend to leave others in the dust if they can’t handle the speed.”

Maddie, ever the bold one, didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, Y/N can handle anything. Don’t you worry about that.”

Carrie’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she forced another smile. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

I could practically hear Maddie holding back a giggle beside me. Carrie’s frustration was almost palpable, and I knew we were getting to her. She was always one to hold her cards close, but right now, the fact that I’d spent time with someone like Daniel Ricciardo—a man from a world far beyond Carrie’s reach—had clearly rattled her.

Savannah, ever the picture of grace, stepped in before things could escalate any further. “Alright, girls. We really must be going.” She placed a hand on Carrie’s shoulder, guiding her toward the door, but not before giving me one last glance. “You’ll have to tell us more about your Formula 1 adventures next time, Y/N.”

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “We’ll see how the weekend goes.”

Carrie shot me one last look as they turned to leave, her voice almost too casual. “Enjoy the race. Let’s hope it’s as exciting as you’re expecting.”

I held her gaze, giving her the smallest of smirks. “Oh, I’m sure it will be.”

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Maddie let out the loudest laugh, finally letting go of all the tension that had been bubbling up during that excruciatingly polite exchange.

“Did you see her face?” Maddie said, practically bouncing with glee. “She’s absolutely livid. I can’t believe you kept your cool like that!”

I exhaled, leaning against the counter. “Barely. She almost had me when she started pushing about Daniel.”

Maddie waved her hand dismissively. “Nah, you handled that like a champ. I mean, did you see how she tried to act all nonchalant? She’s probably seething inside.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Well, let’s hope she stews on it for a while. Maybe she’ll back off.”

Maddie laughed, grabbing a soda from the fridge. “Or maybe she’ll just get more competitive. Either way, you’re the one with the paddock passes and a date with Daniel Ricciardo.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s not a date.”

She gave me a mischievous look. “We’ll see about that.”

As Maddie and I were still laughing about the showdown with Carrie, my mom suddenly cleared her throat from the kitchen doorway. “Oh,” she said, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms, “so that’s where you were. I was wondering why you came back home looking like you’d been wrestling a tornado. Turns out you were just... banging some famous Formula 1 driver, huh?”

I froze, mid-laugh, and Maddie immediately burst into giggles, almost choking on her soda.

“MOM!” I spluttered, my face burning red. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Oh, honey,” my mom interrupted, waving a hand. “I don’t need the details. I’m just surprised you didn’t even bother to sneak in quietly after all that ‘looking for warts business’” She put heavy air quotes around her later statement, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the embarrassment crawl up my neck. “It wasn’t... like that.”

Maddie, still giggling, jumped in. “Oh, it was exactly like that. Just wait until you hear about the cilantro.”

Mom raised an eyebrow, her smirk not fading. “Cilantro, huh? Sounds like that’s code for something else entirely.”

I groaned. “Mom! I am not having this conversation with you right now.”

She laughed, coming over and placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’m just messing with you, sweetie. But next time, try to sneak in a little less obviously. And maybe let your poor mother know if you plan on... running into celebrities in the future.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Maddie quickly jumped in, still laughing. “Oh, don’t worry, Mom. If she ever brings Daniel Ricciardo home, you’ll be the first to know.”

My mom winked at me. “You better believe it. Just make sure to feed the poor boy—don’t want him leaving hungry after all that... grocery shopping.” She gave me a teasing smile, clearly enjoying every second of my discomfort.

I buried my face in my hands. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Maddie leaned over, patting me on the back with a grin. “Welcome to the family, sis. Nothing stays secret here.”

After the chaos with Carrie, my mom’s teasing, and Maddie’s relentless jokes about Daniel, I finally retreated to my room, grateful for some peace and quiet. I had a big task ahead of me, one that had been on my mind for weeks—finalizing my album. The release date was just around the corner, and there were still a few loose ends to tie up.

I sat at my desk, flipping through the notebook that held all my song lyrics. Most of the album was finished, a mix of country ballads, heartbreak anthems, and some upbeat tracks about the wild, unpredictable life of a cowgirl. But something was missing. As I strummed my guitar absentmindedly, my thoughts kept drifting back to the events of the last couple of days—the bar, the unexpected encounter with Daniel, the flirting, the way he made me feel more alive than I’d felt in a long time.

Without even thinking, I started jotting down lyrics. The melody came first, soft and steady, like a heartbeat. The words followed, spilling out onto the page as I replayed that night in my mind. The tequila, the banter, the way he leaned in close with that lazy smile, and how I’d felt—nervous, excited, like I was diving into something new and unexpected.

Before I knew it, I had a full song written about that night. The lyrics were a little cheeky, playful, and flirty, with just enough emotional undertones to make it feel real. It wasn’t like the other songs on my album, but somehow, it fit. It felt right. It felt like something I needed to include.

I sat back, looking at the lyrics on the page, and let out a breath. “Okay,” I whispered to myself, “this might actually work.”

But there was one hurdle left—convincing my manager.

I picked up my phone and called them. It didn’t take long for the line to click, and my manager’s voice came through, warm but business-like as always. “Y/N! We’re almost there. Everything’s looking good for the album release. What’s up?”

I took a deep breath. “Hey, I’ve been thinking... I wrote a new song today. It’s about something that just happened recently, and I feel like it needs to be on the album.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I could hear them flipping through notes. “A new song? Y/N, we’re cutting it pretty close to the release date. Is it finished?”

“Yeah, it’s finished. I can send you a rough cut tonight,” I said, my heart pounding a little faster now. “I know it’s last minute, but this song... it’s important. It’s different from the other tracks, but it feels like the missing piece. I don’t want it on the physical CDs or anything—we can just add it to the online release.”

Another pause, and I held my breath, waiting.

Finally, my manager spoke, their tone thoughtful. “Send it over. I’ll take a listen. If it’s as good as you’re saying, we can make it work for the digital release. But no promises until I hear it.”

A wave of relief washed over me. “Thanks, I’ll send it over in an hour.”

I hung up the phone and got to work, recording a rough version of the song. It wasn’t polished, but the emotion was there, raw and real, just like that night with Daniel. When I listened back, I smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction settle over me. This song wasn’t planned, but it felt like it was meant to be there, like it had been waiting for the right moment to come out.

Once the recording was done, I sent it off to my manager and leaned back in my chair, guitar still resting in my lap. The day had started out so wild, but now, here I was, about to add a brand-new track to my album because of an unexpected encounter at a bar with a Formula 1 driver.

It was crazy, sure—but it was my kind of crazy. The kind that made life interesting, that made music worth creating.

As soon as I hit send on the rough cut of the song to my manager, my phone buzzed in my hand. I glanced down and, to my surprise, saw Daniel’s name lighting up my screen. My heart skipped a beat—I wasn’t expecting to hear from him so soon, if at all. I swiped the notification open, and his message popped up.

Daniel: 👀 So… did I win the cilantro war or what?

I snorted, shaking my head. Of course he’d bring that up.

Me: you wish... i think we agreed it was a draw, remember?

A few moments passed, and another message popped up.

Daniel: Sure, sure. I’ll let you keep telling yourself that. But really, I let you have it. Gentleman and all. 😏

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile as I typed back.

Me: oh, you let me win, huh? that’s the story you’re going with??!

Daniel: Obviously. Wouldn’t want to start a feud over herbs. You Texans can be dangerous when you don’t get your cilantro.

I chuckled to myself, feeling the tension from earlier slip away as we fell into easy banter.

Me: you’re totally right. we don’t mess around with cilantro here. it’s practically sacred!! 😭

Daniel: I’m starting to see that. 😅 So, how’s your day been, besides our grocery aisle showdown?

I hesitated for a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Should I tell him about the song? About Carrie and the whole awkward tea party? I decided to keep it light for now.

Me: oh, you know... just the usual—running errands, finalizing some stuff for my album release. nothing too exciting, what about you?

His response came quickly.

Daniel: Not as exciting as your day, I’m sure. Just some press stuff and getting ready for the race. Though I guess that means I’m busy dodging questions about why I’m spending so much time in the grocery store lately. 😏

I laughed, imagining him charming his way through whatever interviews he had lined up, somehow making even his grocery shopping sound interesting.

Me: yeah, i’m sure the twitter is DYING to know all about your cilantro preferences.

Daniel: Oh, absolutely. “Ricciardo spotted in aisle five—what does this mean for the upcoming race?” 😆

Me: groundbreaking stuff😣😣. we’re really pushing the boundaries here.

His next text came through quickly, and I could almost hear the teasing in his voice.

Daniel: Speaking of groundbreaking... any chance this album’s got a song about a certain Aussie driver in it? 😏

I froze for a second, staring at his message. He had no idea how close he was to the truth.

Me: actually… funny you mention that. i may or may not have written something inspired by a recent bar encounter. 😉

There was a brief pause before his reply, and I imagined him raising an eyebrow on the other end.

Daniel: Oh? Inspired by, huh? Now you’ve got my attention. Do I get to hear this masterpiece before the rest of the world does?

I grinned, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but something told me he’d find it amusing.

Me: maybe... but only if you promise not to make fun of me. i just wrote it today, so it’s still fresh. it's my newborn baby 💗💗💗

Daniel: Promise. I’m intrigued now. What’s it called?

I paused, biting my lip before typing.

Me: i haven’t decided on a title yet, but let’s just say it has a lot to do with flirting, tequila, and someone wearing a cowboy hat...😏

His response came quickly, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Daniel: Well, that narrows it down. Sounds like a banger already. 😎 When do I get to hear it?

I hesitated, unsure if I was really ready to let him listen to something so personal so soon. But then again, the whole point of the song was how unexpected and spontaneous things had been with him.

Me: soon...maybe if you behave yourself at the race. 😏

Daniel: Behave? Me? I’ll do my best, but no promises. 😉

I rolled my eyes, grinning at the screen. He had a way of keeping things light, but there was still something underneath all the teasing that felt... real.

Me: alright alright cowboy, well, you’ll have to wait just like everyone else then. patience is a virtue, right?!

Daniel: Patience is overrated, but for you, I guess I can try. 😎

I laughed, shaking my head. This was getting too fun.

Me: good. now go prepare for your race before you get too distracted.

Daniel: Oh, trust me, I’m already distracted. You’re making it hard to focus on track times, you know that?

I felt a blush creep up my neck at his words, though I tried to brush it off with my usual sarcasm.

Me: well, o wouldn’t want to be responsible for messing up your race. just remember to keep it on track. 😏

His response came with a playful challenge.

Daniel: Challenge accepted. Just don’t be surprised when I win—and not just on the track. 😉

I let out a laugh, shaking my head in disbelief.

Me: we’ll see about that, Ricciardo.

Daniel: Count on it.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

author's note: comment to be added to the taglist! i'll probably update in 1-2 weeks after i get a few more chapters out in my op81 lay all your love on me fic...stay tuned xx <3

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - Lestat & Gender: "I am she, she is me."

Scrolling the tags and sighing, cuz I just KNEW people were gonna take this line out of context, as proof that Lestat's the woman/wife/mother/femme-fatale (which @dwreader had to explain cuz folks just don't get it X X), blahblahblah. I've already said my whole bit on Lestat as the patriarchal father/husband, and the dandified matador/killer (a la Bruce). But I just wanna remind y'all that THE SAINT IS NOT A CITY.

Either the fandom's got a bunch of new Lestans posting who missed the discourse from S1 about the meaning behind Les's monologues from the books; or y'all just have frightfully short memories.

He's NOT talking about stupid effing New Orleans; and he's NOT calling himself a woman. He's talking about LOUIS. Louis' motherland! Louis' culture! Louis' ancestor's bones! Louis' grave soil! Louis's HOME--Louis' back at home, and Louis IS his home.

But here y'all go, always centering everything on Lestat's yaasification, and ignoring the Louis-shaped elephant in the room.

Lestat's been talking about Louis to his nameless Millennial Fledgling this whole time. Everyone knows who Louis is--and what he means to Lestat. This is CRUCIAL for Loustat going forward in TVC, when Lou's held as collateral against Lest by Akasha and Rhoshamandes.

But for some reason Lestans are hella quick to separate Lestat's identity from Louis every chance y'all get, then wanna whine & complain about the QotD movie pairing Lestat with Jesse, or AR tryna pair Les with Tom, Dick & Harry.

And YES, I will die on the hill that this whole anti-feminine discourse about AMC!Louis is couched in racial prejudice and biases--a trap that even Black fans who are pro-Louis fall into, while ignoring the struggles of effeminate/feminized gay Black men in their own effing community (X X X X).

But this is BY FAR more endemic in spaces predominately occupied by straight white women, who utterly fail to relate to their direct antithesis: gay Black men (X X). So of course they'll leap on every chance they get to glom onto long-haired blonde white drama queen Lestat as their spirit animal, even when he's LITERALLY TELLING Y'ALL that he himself identifies himself with LOUIS.

(Lestat's toxic color blindness is a whole 'nother conversation, omg. X X X)

Lestat says "she" because it's conventional speech to refer to places--especially continents, countries, and cities--as female, denoting motherhood and wives--places as people that take care of their own, as a mother would her children and/or spouse; a la the Statue of Liberty, personified virtues, and most abstract concepts we've inherited from Greco-Roman gender inequality about women as home-makers (HOUSEWIVES) being barefoot & pregnant in the kitchen. It's not even an exclusively English phenomenon. NOLA, like any city, is referred to as a "she."

So yes, to an extent, Lestat is channeling LOUIS; waiting at home for his spouse to come back and TAKE CARE OF HIM again. But Lestat is NOT a home-maker. He's living in a nasty AF shack, with only his music for company (and we know his tour's all about TVL & Akasha & Marius & Claudia & Louis). He treats his own Millennial Fledgling (his BLOOD CHILD) like trash; setting him on fire "IN LOUIS' HONOR" and not even knowing his name--he's NOT tryna be no one's MOTHER. He couldn't even bring himself to be Claudia's effing FATHER when she was literally burning alive two feet away from him, FFS.

But it's not about the brick & mortar or the PLACE itself--it's about the PERSON it's attached to--cuz Lestat always knew that Louis would eventually come back to NOLA--come back HOME--and FIND LESTAT WAITING FOR HIM THERE.

EVERYTHING & ANYTHING FOR LOUIS.

But AMC leaves it deliberately open-ended and ambiguous what Louis says to Lestat during their hug, and we don't see Lestat in Dubai, or any implication that Loustat is remarried/a couple again. Louis' putting down the torch, to stop accepting everyone's effing dregs; "your tired, your poor, your huddled masses...the wretched refuse of your teeming shore." Cuz Lou's decided to finally start learning how to live on his own for the first time in his entire life; for himself, not other people--AND realize that he doesn't need to rely on his husbands to fight his battles for him. "I own the night!"

[novaursa]

The Gods Are Cruel (and so is he)

- Summary: Maegor always thought of you. Even when you were convinced he had forgotten you.

- Paring: niece!reader/Maegor I Targaryen

- Note: This story captures Maegor's inner struggle and events before Fire and Blood.

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (just to be safe)

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

For as long as Maegor can remember, you have been the one thing denied to him. He’s conquered kingdoms, brought men to their knees, and ruled with the iron will of a dragon. But he cannot have you. His own father, King Aegon, forbade it. “She’s your niece, Maegor. There are limits, even for us.” As if the blood of the dragon were not meant to twist and coil upon itself, strengthening the line.

You’re the second-born daughter of Aenys, the weakling king who, even now, sits the Iron Throne in pitiful splendor. His half-brother’s mewling reign grates on Maegor’s nerves, but it’s the distance between you that fuels his rage. You’re imprisoned on Dragonstone, hidden away like a relic too precious to behold. And for what? To preserve your innocence? To keep you untouched by his flame?

His hand tightens around Blackfyre’s hilt as he recalls the way you looked at him, the first time your eyes truly met. You were but a girl then, your hair falling in soft waves of silver down your back, your eyes wide with awe and fear. A look that has haunted him ever since, seeping into his dreams, twisting his desires into something darker, more dangerous. He dreams of you, night after night, your body beneath his, your mouth forming his name like a prayer. You, the one thing he cannot have, the one thing he would raze cities to possess.

And yet, you are kept from him. Aenys has you guarded like a treasure, a pawn in his political games. The gods themselves conspire against him, placing you always just out of reach. He has seen you only in glimpses now, from across the court or from the back of his dragon, Balerion, circling above Dragonstone like an unholy sentinel.

What do you think of him? He wonders, in the quiet of his chambers, when even the echoes of war fall silent. Do you fear him, as the rest do? Or do you feel it too—the pull between you, the force that binds your fates as surely as dragonfire and blood?

His first wife, Ceryse, lies cold and untouched in his bed, her barren womb a constant reminder of the child he was never meant to sire with her. He took her as duty demanded, but his heart—and his loins—have always belonged to you. A woman he could mold, could teach, could keep. In his darkest thoughts, he imagines how your skin would feel under his hands, how your breath would catch as he whispered your name. Y/N.

Does your heart beat faster when you think of him? Do you lie awake at night, wondering if he’s thinking of you, too? You must. You have to. Because if you don’t, what is left for him? What can satiate this unquenchable thirst that rages through him, consuming him like wildfire?

The gods mock him with every breath you take beyond his reach. They have shackled him to a woman who cannot bear him heirs, as if to deny him the legacy he was born to create. They have put you on Dragonstone, behind walls and guards and duty, as if they think any of that could hold him back forever. But he will have you. His father’s wishes, Aenys’ weakness, the gods themselves—none of it matters. You belong to him.

In his mind, he sees the two of you, alone in the Dragonmont, the heat of the beasts around you only heightening the fever that pulses through his veins. He would take you there, make you his in every way, his hands on your skin, your nails in his back. The thought is almost unbearable in its intensity. But it is only a dream, a hollow mockery of what he craves.

He remembers the song you played once, in the Red Keep, your fingers dancing over the strings of a harp. It was a haunting melody, something about love and death entwined, the lyrics slipping from your lips like smoke. It was not for him—you hadn’t even known he was there—but he felt the words like a dagger in his chest. The horror of his love. A love that destroys, that devours. And yet, he would have it no other way.

You are the one thing that could calm his rage, and the one thing that stokes it to an inferno. He could burn the world for you, if it meant seeing you by his side, wearing his crown, carrying his children. He would destroy anyone who stands in his way, even the gods themselves. Because you are his, and he is yours, no matter how high the walls they build between you.

The gods are cruel. But so is he. And he is patient. For now.

But not forever.

Exile is a bitter draught, and Maegor tastes its poison on his tongue every day. Here, across the Narrow Sea, he is surrounded by false smiles and sharper knives, an unwelcome guest in a land that does not know the fire of dragons. He is supposed to be broken, he thinks. This was Aenys' intent—to crush his spirit, to strip him of power and keep him from you. It should have worked.

But Maegor is not so easily broken.

Every day he is here, he feels you slipping further away, like water through his fingers. Every day, the distance grows, a chasm that he fears even a dragon’s wings could not cross. You must think him weak now, to have been cast aside, to have failed in taking what is rightfully his. Do you believe the stories? That he is a monster, a madman, unworthy of the blood in his veins?

He paces the halls of this foreign stronghold, his mind churning with thoughts of you, of the night they took you from him. He had almost had you, his hand outstretched, your name a growl on his lips, when Aenys’ guards pulled you away, your eyes wide with something he cannot name. Fear? Betrayal? Desire?

Aenys had raged at him, his voice trembling with a fury Maegor had never thought his spineless brother capable of. “You will not touch her! Do you hear me, brother? I will not let you taint her with your madness!” As if your purity were some fragile thing, as if you were not a dragon yourself, with fire in your blood.

His exile was swift, the king’s command carried out by his lapdog lords who dared not look Maegor in the eye as they escorted him to the ship, bound for a land that does not know him. Aenys spoke of protecting you, of preserving the fragile peace between the Crown and the Faith. He was terrified of another rebellion, afraid that Maegor’s obsession with you would shatter what little stability he had managed to cling to. The Faith would rise against such a union, scream of abomination and blasphemy, and the weak-willed sheep of Westeros would follow.

And so, Maegor was sent away like a common criminal, the dragon without his fire, the beast without his prey.

But what they do not understand, what even you perhaps cannot see, is that this does not break him. No, this only feeds the flames, stokes the hunger that gnaws at him day and night. In his solitude, he thinks of you, of the way your lips parted when you spoke his name, the tremor in your voice as you told him to stop. And beneath that tremor, beneath the fear, he heard something else—something that made his blood burn and his pulse quicken.

You want him. He knows it, has seen it in your eyes, in the way you cannot help but look at him when you think no one is watching. It is a look he has seen before, in women who knew the danger of wanting a man like him, who knew the risk and were drawn to it all the same. But you—you are not like them. You are his niece, his kin, and that only makes the desire more potent, more twisted.

It is as if the gods themselves crafted you to tempt him, to drive him to madness. They dangle you before him, a prize he cannot claim, and laugh as he claws at the edges of sanity, his mind unraveling with every thought of you. Y/N, the name a whisper on his lips as he dreams, a curse and a prayer all at once. He imagines you as you must be now, cloistered away on Dragonstone, your beauty kept hidden from the world, your spirit shackled by duty and fear.

What do you think of him now, your would-be captor, your would-be king? Do you despise him for his failure, for letting them take him from you? Or do you still dream of him, as he dreams of you, your hands reaching out in the darkness, your voice calling him back across the sea? He would come for you, if he could. He would set fire to this whole wretched land if it meant seeing you again, holding you, tasting the lips that have haunted him for so long.

But no, he is here, caged by exile, by duty, by the very blood that runs through his veins. Aenys thinks this will keep him at bay, that distance and shame will cool his fire. A fool’s hope. Every night, Maegor’s dreams grow darker, his thoughts more twisted, until he no longer knows where desire ends and madness begins.

He thinks of what he would do, if you were here now. How he would take you in his arms, heedless of your protests, your pleas. You would fight him, at first—he knows you would. But he would not stop. He would crush every barrier, break every rule that the world has placed between you, until there is nothing left but the two of you, entwined in a knot of blood and fire and desire. He would teach you what it means to be his, to be bound to him in a way that no one, not Aenys, not the gods themselves, could sever.

And would you love him, then? Would you finally see him for what he is, for what he could be to you? Or would you still fear him, still see him as the monster they have all made him out to be? It does not matter, he tells himself. Love, hate—they are two sides of the same coin, both burning with the same intensity. And he would have either, or both, if it meant having you.

He will not stay here forever. This exile is a cage of straw, and he is a dragon. One day, he will break free, and when he does, he will come for you. No more half-measures, no more hesitant glances and whispered promises. He will take you, as he was meant to, as he was born to. And if the world burns for it, so be it.

The gods think they can keep him from you. But he will show them the folly of trying to chain a dragon. And when he does, he will take back what is his, with fire and blood.

The wine in Pentos is bitter and thin, a poor substitute for the strong, dark vintages of home. Maegor swirls the goblet, his gaze unfocused, the liquid rippling like the storm inside him. He’s been here for what feels like years, a dragon caged, his wings clipped. Exile is a wound that festers, seeping poison into his thoughts, breeding resentment, rage—and longing. Always longing.

He imagines you on Dragonstone, your days spent looking out over the sea, wondering if he’s forgotten you. Do you think him weak for not returning, for letting Aenys and his lapdogs banish him so easily? The thought of your disappointment, your disdain, cuts deeper than any blade. He should be there, should have fought harder, should have…

The door to his chambers bursts open, and his hand flies to Blackfyre’s hilt, the dark thoughts scattering like smoke. But it is no assassin or enemy lord. It is Visenya, his mother, sweeping in like a tempest, her eyes alight with a fire he hasn’t seen in years. For a moment, he thinks he is dreaming. Visenya, the indomitable, the iron queen who shaped him, forged him in the heat of her will and her ambition. The only one who has ever understood him, who has ever truly known him.

“Mother,” he breathes, his voice rough from disuse.

She crosses the room in a few swift steps, her presence as commanding as ever. There is no preamble, no softening of the words that follow. “Aenys is dead.”

The goblet slips from his fingers, clattering to the floor, the wine spilling in a dark pool at his feet. Dead. The weakling king, the half-brother who took everything from him, who caged him in this foreign land and kept you locked away. Dead.

“How?” he asks, his voice a low growl, his mind reeling. This changes everything. The iron bonds of exile shatter in an instant, and all the bitterness, all the rage that has been festering in his heart explodes like wildfire.

“His own weakness killed him,” Visenya says, her lip curling in disdain. “The Faith rose against him, the realm crumbled around him, and he could not hold it together. He was never fit to rule. He left the Seven Kingdoms in chaos.”

And you. What did he leave you with? A kingdom in ruins, a throne contested, and you still locked away, still untouched, still denied to him. Maegor’s blood boils at the thought of it, at the thought of you alone on that bleak island, your beauty hidden from the world, your spirit shackled by a man too weak to protect what was his.

“He is gone,” Visenya continues, her voice hard as steel. “The throne is yours, Maegor. But you must act. The lords will not sit idle; they will scheme and plot and raise their banners for Aenys’ wretched brood. You must return, and you must take what is rightfully yours.”

The throne. The Iron Throne, forged by fire and blood, by the will of their house. But more than that—more than crowns and kingdoms and power—there is you. The promise of you, the dream that has tormented him in the long, empty nights of exile. He sees it all, now, with a clarity that almost blinds him. Aenys is dead, the gods have finally relented, and the path to you is clear.

He rises from his chair, his eyes fixed on Visenya’s face. “And her?” He does not need to speak your name; they both know who he means.

Visenya’s eyes gleam, a predatory smile curling her lips. “You will have her, as it should have been from the start. She is your right, your reward. No one will keep her from you now, not the Faith, not the lords, not even the gods. You will take the throne, and you will take her.”

The words are like a balm, soothing the raw wound of exile, of longing. He sees it now, the vision of what could be, what will be: you, by his side, crowned in Valyrian steel and dragon’s flame, the blood of your enemies soaking the earth at your feet. His queen. His wife. The one thing denied to him, now within his grasp.

Aenys is dead, and with him, the last barrier between Maegor and the life he was meant to have. He will return, he will seize the throne, and he will take you. The thought of it fills him with a fierce, terrible joy. He imagines the look on your face when he storms Dragonstone, when he bursts into your chambers, his eyes wild with the need that has driven him mad for so long. You will fight him, at first, as you must. But he will not be denied. He will make you see, make you understand that you were always his, from the moment you were born.

He thinks of the song you played that day in the Red Keep, the haunting melody that still echoes in his mind. There is horror in our love, the words sang, and yes, there is. There is darkness, and fire, and blood. But there is also something deeper, something that binds you to him in ways you cannot yet fathom. He will show you, when you are his, what it means to love a dragon, to be consumed by the flame and not be burned.

He looks at Visenya, his heart hammering in his chest. “We go to Westeros. We take the throne, and I take her.”

She nods, the fierce pride in her eyes a reflection of his own. “Yes, my son. You will have it all.”

The gods have relented, have finally turned their faces from him and given him what he has craved for so long. The throne, the power, and you. His beautiful, stubborn, untouchable Y/N. No more dreams, no more whispered prayers to uncaring gods. This is destiny, and it will not be denied.

He is coming for you, and nothing—not lords, not priests, not the very heavens themselves—will stop him. You will be his, as you were always meant to be. And if there is horror in it, then let there be horror. Let the world tremble before the fire of his love.

Because he is Maegor, son of Visenya, true heir of Aegon the Conqueror. And he will have what is his.