#I've become Sophia

[fazcinatingblog]

ASIC told me to "seek professional help" (regarding the issues with the shareholder being a deregistered company) great even ASIC think I'm a narcissistic manipulative asshole forcing things on people and controlling them and enjoying the drama and satisfaction of--- (I don't know what I'm enjoying, nothing really, I enjoyed spending $$$$$ at big W yesterday)

[vaguely-concerned]

sophia seeing cailan's body hanging there when they go back to ostagar, and suddenly all she can see even through the rot and the ruin is just how much he looked like alistair...... :'(

a mental image that totally will not haunt her through alistair's many years on the throne as rebellions and assassination attemps come and go. doesn't send her unhinged and unwise even a little

[mpsideadump]

Lies of P photoshops

Pinocchio Chalamet

Sophia inspired edit (the blue hair is ai generated)

[cheswirls]

hmmmmm so i got the cross infinite world translated version of yari reijou bc that's the only print option in english, and i was rly excited abt it but the way character names and places have been romanized is not great 🙃 i wanted to like this so bad but i might just stick to the manga version if i cant finish the book

[rajdiel]

— , SECRET4U | MEGAN SKIENDIEL ᯓ★

↡

being sophia’s, the KATSEYE leader, sister wasn’t the worst thing. you did all you could to remain away from her spotlight, to avoid how your guys’ brother was trended by ‘eyekons’ not long after their debut. none of the other girls had met you, didn’t even know what you looked like, badgering sophia to show them pictures. but she had respect for you and your privacy, never giving in to their repetitive pleas.

you thought all of the girls were pretty, but there was always a ginger head with the prettiest glow of skin you’d ever seen that always caught your eye. the problem? sophia refused to let any of the girls date any of her relatives.

warnings?: laforteza!reader, i miss my chinese ginger meg so pretend that she's still ginger in this present time, fluff.

wc: 6100+

a/n: a part 2 will be made to this.

...

being inducted into KATSEYE was sophia’s dream amplified ten times over. she grew to love and trust the girls with more than just her life. however, she knew of an audience, and she knew of her fellow girls’ orientations. that’s simply why she made only one thing clear—nobody dates her sister. it seemed simple enough to her; none of them had ever even met you. but sophia knew you, and she knew you were as captivating as the glossy look that beamed over your eyes as you stood in the sun and your toned figure from years of playing volleyball.

while the media thirsted over yours and sophia’s brother (weirdly enough), you remained anonymous for the most part. no instagram posts or highlights, a private twitter account, and a hand covering your face for every photo taken with sophia that you knew was going to be publicly posted. you were always considerably quieter in the family, and you planned to keep it that way for as long as you could.

the KATSEYE girls were all equally acquainted with the laforteza family, seeing your brothers on facetimes with smiles and jokes to be made, so much so that they would regularly forget that sophia had a sister, barely a year in age difference, until she would bring you up. the excuses were always the same: “she lives at home, but she's always on her college campus,” and “she’s never liked being in the public eye.”

“so much for frightening us with ‘my sister is off limits!’ if we’ll never get to meet her, it seems.” manon sat at your family table, chewing on snacks that your mom had prepared for the girls. The KATSEYE girls were in the philippines for promotions, and it didn’t even have to conclude with sophia’s badgering that they’d be in the infamous laforteza home.

“nanay, nasaan si y/n?” sophia caught her mom’s attention, to which her mom spoke a brief reply before returning to the food that was on the stove. “she could swing by today, for your information, manon. she’s at some open gym.”

lara sat across from sophia, quipping up, “open gym? she plays sports?” to which sophia nodded, becoming occupied in conversation as her dad sat at the table. the girls had a small break for the day, with a couple of other break days spread out around their philippines visit while they worked on promotions.

conversations continued smoothly until the opening of the front door sounded, noticeable by the door's small creak before it closed shut, and a quick, "home!" sounded throughout the house. sophia immediately darted up and ran out of the kitchen to where you stood, slinging your duffel bag full of equipment off your shoulder and setting it by the stairs. "aww, fi."

watching your older sister run toward you, you embraced her in your arms, chin resting on the side of her head from your small height difference. you had become blissfully unaware that you reeked of sweat and hints of vanilla bean until sophia pulled away, rubbing her hand on your shirt. "your back is sweaty."

"what else can you expect when i've been hitting a ball for three hours?" you laughed, combing baby hairs out of your face before sophia cocked her head up, as if a light bulb had just gone off in her head. "come to the kitchen so you can finally meet the girls!"

she grabbed your arm, beginning to pull you forward before you lunged back, pulling sophia in the process. "oh, absolutely not, fi. look at me." and looking at you, she did.

you wore tennis shoes with long socks rolled halfway, black shorts ending just above your knee, and a fitted black shirt with a couple dark patches alongside your back from your sweat. "i also smell like a dog. i'll say my greetings when i'm... proper."

"you smell fineeeeuh," sophia groaned, having waited what felt like years to finally introduce you. her facial expression then changed, raising an eyebrow up while she spoke in an accusatory tone, "now who exactly are you trying to get proper for?"

you clicked your tongue, eyes darting up at the ceiling as if you were in a train of thought. "i dunno... the ginger's got some pretty doe eyes." you winked, knowing about sophia's "no dating" policy, and ran up the stairs to evade her arm swinging at you like a maniac. "absolutely not, y/n!"

you ran up the stairs, laughing to yourself as you passed by your younger brother's room, eyes narrowing at the sight of him on his xbox. "hey, you."

he looked up to see you pointing at him from the doorway, head slanted like you had just seen him doing something bad. "you've got five pretty girls downstairs, and you're up here playing valorant?" the disbelief in your voice was evident, shaking your head in a "no" motion, to which he shooed you away, saying, "you know sophia's got them on lockdown. good luck trying to get with one of them."

you stuck your tongue out at him before venturing down the hall into your room, quick on your feet to get changed while sophia sat back down at the table downstairs, earning gazes from the other girls. "soooo..?"

sophia looked at lara, the indian girl giving her a questionable look, "y/n's here, but she's getting ready upstairs. she'll be down in no time... i hope." sophia trailed off, taking opportunity of the girls' attention on her to set a reminder. "she is absolutely off limits. if i find any of you so much as flirting, you're dead, and KATSEYE is becoming OT5."

the girls pushed themselves back into their chairs, putting their hands up and pretending they were scared, mimicking sophia's apparent overprotectiveness of her siblings. "well, no offense sophia, but uh..." megan finally spoke, the ginger off in her own world ever since she sat down, "i can't see myself trying to chase after someone that looks like you."

the other girls hummed in agreement at megan's words, to which sophia gave a fake-shocked look before swatting megan's arm. "well, you see, that's the problem. she looks like me... but she also doesn't. i don't know how to explain it properly; she's just different. plus, she's an actual good flirt—i can't name how many of my friends became like... captivated by her just because she wanted to mess with them."

and different you were, soon enough walking down the stairs slowly. it had only just hit you that you were going to be introduced to five gorgeous idols at once, and although you weren't shy, you still found yourself with a rather embarrassing track record when it came to girls. blue-light glasses rimmed your nose, pushing them up as you mustered your remaining courage and headed for the kitchen.

you had seen the girls everywhere, lurking on their media accounts and unintentionally coming across them on sophia's posts. they were all beautiful, just about drop-dead gorgeous, but none of them were exactly your type... except for one girl that crossed your search bar every now and then, the girl that had you in a trance as you once watched dream academy missions.

pretty doe eyes with hips that swayed like butter and a sultry, alluring dancing style that captivated you. she had light skin that glowed in the sun, and her laugh, which you'd hear in tiktoks the girls would make, was contagious. if you weren't rooting for your own sister, she was your number one pick. you could only brush it off as an on-screen crush, but as she debuted alongside your sister, you were aware that it was bound to change.

"finally." sophia groaned, standing up as you entered the kitchen area, quick to avoid eye contact with any of the girls who first came into your vision. "i took maybe 15 minutes, fi. you take 15 minutes just to do a lip combo."

sophia's mouth opened in offense, plunging her fist into your left arm as snickers erupted from the girls still seated. you took a look around, eyes first locking with the same ginger you joked about before—she was hard to miss. she's even prettier in person, you thought. large eyes looked up at you from where she sat, looking almost entranced by you at first glance.

you panicked on the spot and could only send her a small smile, unsure of how to act. megan didn't react properly, putting her head down as she felt heat creeping up in her cheeks. oh, sophia would kill her. why was she getting flustered all of a sudden?

was it the way she could tell you were fit even under your shirt—how broad your shoulders were—or how your eyes shone even under the fluorescent lighting as they bore into hers? sophia was right; you looked like her, but you didn't. your aura was different, and so was your style, not to mention the eyebrow piercing that sat on your face that almost amplified your look times ten.

with a notice in megan's shift, you immediately jerked your head away from her, trying your hardest to ignore how uncomfortable you had suddenly become at her reaction. you could only be thankful for daniela coming up to you first, pushing aside your outstretched hand to give you a warm hug, entrapped by a stronger vanilla scent compared to yours, to which she complimented you on your "good scent."

"wow, sophia was not lying." manon spoke a little louder than intended, earning a jab to her side from lara who was the next girl to come up to you. "sooooo nice to meet you; you don't understand how long we've waited to meet this mysterious younger sister." she teased you, not expecting for you to send her a sly wink that only she caught, "it's my pleasure to finally see you gorgeous girls in person."

sophia pushed you away, jabbing you in your arm whilst protruding a stern look on her face, to which you backed up, hands up in surrender. after that, manon and yoonchae arrived. manon's bear embrace smothered you, causing sophia to pull the girl away from you. you then gave yoonchae a side hug to make the shy girl feel more at ease.

then megan, the renowned socially awkward one of the group, was desperate to bury herself in your arms if it meant avoiding sophia's furrowed gaze at her sudden shyness, eyes darting everywhere but at you. the girl smelled sweet to you, a broad floral and woody scent filling your nose with a hint of vanilla (though you couldn't distinguish if it was her or you). her body was warm despite the cold air conditioning filling the house, and her head fitting snug in the crook of your neck felt perfect.

just as quick as the feeling came, it went away when she pulled back. sophia gave megan a look that she didn't catch, eyes glued to the floor, before sending one to you as well, which you shrugged at. the girls sat you down before you could look megan's way again, poking and prodding at you for details on your life that sophia refused to share. "off limits." the girl mumbed, almost a reminder to herself and a mental facepalm at how the words she spoke earlier dramatically came back to bite her in the ass.

small talk conversation with the girls, talkative and unintentionally funny, turned into hours of conversation, gaming, and eventual lounging in sophia's childhood bedroom as the sun began to fade away.

a loud growl sounded in the comfortable silence that was sophia's room. yoonchae and sophia were on their phones, playing multiplayer on some game they had downloaded. lara and daniela were in the connected bathroom, door wide open as they took mirror selfies with a life-size cardboard cutout of an SB19 member they found shoved in the back of sophia's closet. manon sat on the carpet floor, texting god knows who, and megan simply lay on the bed, her phone unable to cure any boredom she was feeling.

the girls all collectively turned their heads to the origin point of the clear stomach growl, the culprit none other than megan. "no way you're still hungry even after sophia's mom forced us to each have like three plates of food."

megan mumbled, rubbing her stomach. " i don't feel hungry... probably just a snack hunger." she picked her head up, looking at her members with a knowing glint in her eyes. lara and daniela immediately looked away, while the other three girls shared quick laughs before returning to their activities. "come on guys! please!"

"the sun's coming down, meg, and we have no car until tomorrow. there's a gas station close to here, but i don't need any of you girls walking out at night without any protection." sophia spoke motherly, annoying megan, who whined at her. getting filipino snacks was megan's favorite part of the trip every time they came, and with their busy upcoming schedule, she was afraid she wouldn't get the chance to buy them.

"if you need protection, then take stell!" daniela held up the cardboard cutout of the member, using it to dodge sophia's slipper that then came flying her way while one hand remained on the filipina's phone as yoonchae was urging her to "kill him, kill him!" the girls laughed, manon joining before abruptly stopping and looking up at megan with an unreadable look.

the last time manon gave anyone that look, it ended with daniela chasing her around the house after the girl had stolen her phone and texted brent faiyaz "luvvvv ur music <3 when are we getting married?" only realizing what manon had done after she had earned a reply from the artist.

"what if you just... ask y/n to accompany you?" manon finished her sentence and immediately ducked her head down, avoiding the look her leader sent her. sophia went as far as ignoring yoonchae's whines as she had set her phone down completely, obviously unamused at the idea.

"hmph, not an entirely bad idea." daniela emerged from the bathroom, setting the cutout aside as sophia directed her gaze to the curlyhead. "whaaaat? doesn't take someone with 20/20 vision to see that your sister is visibly lean. plus, she knows the area."

as if someone had a magician's hat and wand and said "poof!" you emerged in sophia's doorway, eyebrow raised as you looked between all of the girls. "get out of here nosy!"

"oh, god forbid i hear my name and get a little curious." you faked offense, looking around the girls that you had talked to with ease not long ago, quick for your original anxiety to disappear. megan shot up immediately when she registered that you had came into the room, pleading eyes darting to all of her members, almost saying "do NOT!!!!"

manon was quick on her feet, slipping out of megan's grip after the ginger had lunged forward to try and hold her back. "y/n! long time no see- listen, you busy right now?" manon slung an arm over your shoulder, quick to then retract it when she watched sophia's eyes narrow at the sight. you meekly nodded your head 'no' and gave an almost concerned look when manon beamed at the answer.

manon continued, "megan wants snacks, but your sister is denying her proper nourishment because nobody wants to go with her." she shook her head with a sad expression, trying to stifle a laugh at the thought of sophia's face. "i am not! all I'm saying is that there's nobody to go with her."

"and that's where you come in, y/n! interested in going with her?" manon looked at you like she was expecting you to say yes, causing you to drag out a long, "uhhhhhhhh," before sophia stepped in. "you're not gonna force my sister to go somewh-"

"i'll go."

"y/n!" sophia hissed, giving you the same shocked look that she had on her face for a minute at that point. you never really understood why sophia was so adamant about a "no dating" policy, if that was even the reason she opposed the situation, or if it had to do with the welfare of her friend. "what? you're acting like I'm gonna mug her myself."

"i... ugh! both of you, come here." sophia urged, megan wasting no time than to be right at her side as you reluctantly went over, bending down to meet eye-to-eye. "gas station, then come right back. no side quests, no dilly dallying, and if she comes back with so much as a scratch-" sophia turned to you and leaned forward, causing you to push yourself back, "you are never seeing the light of day again."

"so much positivity for your sister that you see every 3-6 business months." lara mumbled from the bathroom, causing manon to bend over the sink to stifle a laugh. sophia paid no mind to them, awaiting your answer, to which you responded, "fine by me. if she comes back with even a lick of hair gone, i'll buy you ten choc nut's."

...

the wind was breezy against your body, flushing your face from the slight cold that made the tips of your ears twinge slightly. you were prepared for the most part, your favorite black leather jacket on with semi-baggy jeans to help you combat the sudden cold. the same couldn't be said for megan, sporting a short-sleeved black shirt with linen-made pants that didn't protect her legs at all.

well... that was a mere couple of minutes ago. now, with some reluctance for your wellbeing, megan sported your leather jacket that you offered her while you remained in a plain t-shirt, wind blowing goosebumps onto your exposed arms as you two walked along the sidewalk, but that was the last of your thoughts.

"you're not this quiet in your interviews, you know." you spoke softly, the air tinging the tip of your nose a small shade of pink as you looked around the familiar area before you. megan's ears immediately perked up, shooting you a glance like she hadn't just been mindlessly wandering off into another dimension—mentally. "my interviews?"

"mhm," you hummed softly, careful to not make eye contact with the girl that way you could make sure she wasn't going to slam into anything up ahead, with those light brown eyes of hers boring into the side of your face. "you know, where you act all jittery like you just consumed three red bull's beforehand, and all... well..." you briefly turned to face her, pulling your hands up to the sides of your face before twisting them slightly whilst mimicking a face she knew all too well, the burden of one of her livestreams.

megan couldn't hold it back, "oh my goddd," and let out a true laugh at your knowledge of that moment. her hands were stuffed in the pockets of your jacket, formally entranced by your vanilla scent that surrounded her, filling up her nostrils as if you were indirectly hugging her. she couldn't pinpoint it—what it was about you that made her so fluttery. she never thought she'd have a type, really, but it was almost an awakening that if she did, you were exactly it.

it wasn't just your style and the way you looked, although they were key factors. it was the small gestures that you did, figuring the girl wouldn't pick up on, but just because she was quiet didn't mean she wasn't observant.

the way your hand hovered over her head as she bent down to pick up something earlier at the dinner table, careful as to not let her bump into anything. the quick offering of a blanket as you noticed her small shivers while you all sat on your living room couch, megan having sat where the air conditioning was hitting her directly—you then got up to turn it off. the way you had clothes in your hand, pajamas that you were likely ready to change into, as you entered sophia's room, and how quick you were to put them away to be at megan's service.

the patience you held as megan scoured the house for her shoes, unsure as to where she left them. how you redirected your walking stance, keeping megan on the inside of the sidewalk while you walked along the outer part. it only took her the lighest shiver for you to be stuffing your jacket in her hands, assuring her you wouldn't be cold while clear goosebumps began to litter your skin. all this, and you hadn't even known the girl for 12 hours. she couldn't decipher whether it was all an act to stay on your sister's good side or if you actually meant it, and she hoped the latter.

the apologies the ginger sent you as she found her shoes, putting them on while grabbing- did she grab it? did she... "oh, fuck!"

you whipped your head around, startled by the sudden yelp of the girl beside you. she put your hands in her hair, tugging slightly in a form of distress, and you could only step in front of her to pull her hands away as to not hurt herself. "what's wrong?"

"i fucking- oh, i'm so sorry, y/n! stupid... stupid..." she groaned louder this time, her body finding movement of its own in her frustration as her hands balled into fists and lightly hit your chest, hands remaining there before leaning forward and resting her forehead on her balled fists. "i completely forgot to grab my wallet that was on the table near my shoes, and i just got a new phone and i haven't added any of my cards onto it yet..."

she expected you to get upset, mad even, that you had to walk back to the house to retrieve the item—if you even wanted to go anymore. instead, you just laughed, megan feeling the way your chest lightly heaved while a hand came up to rub megan's back soothingly. "god, megan, you had me thinking you killed yoonchae or something."

frowning, she pulled away. "the cat," you clarified, but that wasn't what she needed clarification about. "you're not mad, even the slightest?"

"'course not, if anything it gives me an excuse to pay for your stuff. come on," you nudged her along, already seeing the faint tall sign of the gas station as you looked ahead. she swore up and down she could kiss you right there and then if the looming thought of sophia digging her grave didn't play in her mind. "i'll pay you back, i swear."

"hm, no need. i promise i've got enough." you eventually made it up to the gas station, holding open the door for megan who thanked you and went inside. you waved at the same cashier you saw nearly every day; if you didn't get along with the guy so well, you'd probably be embarrassed at the amount of times he saw you walk in and leave, paying with a filled basket.

while megan ventured toward the fridges, you stayed up front to scan the front bar for the choco nut's that your sister would die for. "hoy, may girlfriend ka?" [hey, you got a girlfriend?]

you smiled, nodding your head no, but your cheeks blushed at the thought. "isa sa mga kaibigan ni sophia, pero maganda siya, huh?" [one of sophia's friends, but she's pretty, huh?]

he nodded, chatting with you further until you eventually found megan in the chips aisle, deciding on what bag she could get despite unable to read the labels. "just get both." you shrugged, turning the corner slightly toward a freezer, grabbing a couple gatorades and energy drinks for your club game the next day. "i don't want to drain your bank account."

"you're acting like i don't have the most generous sister ever who will literally send me $500 'just because.' i promise, you're fine." it wasn't a shy thing to admit that you came from some wealth to begin with, whether it was from your parents' success or the simple acts from your sister to send you unnecessary, absurd amounts of money to make sure you were "well off."

"the same sister that looked like she wanted to murder me for coming out here with you? yeaaaahh, such a sweetheart, that girl." megan joked, laughing with you as she stuffed both the chip bags into her basket. if you were anything like sophia, you weren't taking no for an answer, so why fight it?

the more she stood around you, light chats filling the air as you guys continued to look for snacks, the more megan became more comfortable around you. it were as if she was seeing you in a brand new light, almost like you were more than just someone's sibling.

you noticed the whisker dimples whenever she laughed and how full her cheeks got, and she noticed the dotted dimples on your cheeks and the way your eyes crinked behind your glasses.

"this is weird." megan mumbled to herself, originally supposed to be an internal thought, but her small dissociations tend to betray her sometimes. you turned your head, watching her analyzing the cold aisle for whatever else may have attracted her. "what's weird?"

you heard that?

"i- well," megan stumbled over her words, scratching the back of her neck while walking past you, your eyes continuing to trail her. "i've known luke for almost two years now, since dream academy, and yet i can never see him as any more than 'sophia's older brother'." your eyebrows raised at the mention of your elder brother, unsure of where she was going with her words.

"but i've known you for maybe seven hours max, and i've only just now actually started talking to you and- you feel comfortable, as if i've known you forever." megan's eyes shot wide as she finished her sentence, already regretting the words as they left her mouth. "now, wait! i don't mean that to seem too overly heartfelt or anything, i just-"

megan turned around to face you, words jumbling in her throat as she saw you with a grin on your face, silently laughing at her quick flushness, and it made her want to shrink inside. "wo- i'm not bullying you by laughing, by the way." you helped clarify once more upon seeing the exasperated look the girl held. "it's cute how you rant, and i'm rather flattered at your indirect comment that you already like me more than my brother."

you teased her, sending over a wink that you mentally shamed yourself for once it happened, walking past the girl to grab a mango pack off the shelf. "plus, if you promise not to snitch..." you tossed the pack in the basket, turning to face megan now, "then i'll tell you that the conversations we've been having are my favorite compared to the past conversations i had with your group mates, but shh.." you put a finger up to your lips, shushing her with a light twitch at the corner of your lips, like you wanted to smile.

you turned away, starting toward the next aisle, and megan was paled as if she had just seen a ghost. "is she flirting with me?" the girl thought once more, feet pulling to catch up with you only to watch you turn around slightly, and she had already knew her body had betrayed her once more by making her internal thoughts verbal.

"if i were, would you snitch on me?"

the walk back home was exasperating, given that she had remained visibly flushed with tinted cheeks that she blamed on the cold air, but you knew better. she was so entranced by the time the two of you arrived home, thanking you for the snacks once more before walking back into sophia's room, which she would share with the girl herself and yoonchae while the others girl crashed in the guest bedroom.

"welcome back, me-" sophia looked up, halting her words immediately when she saw the new clothing accessory around megan's body along with the girl's rosy cheeks. she gave the younger girl a look that was hard to decipher. "is that y/n's jacket?"

with a small commotion later of sophia trying to force information out of megan and yoonchae trying to calm her elder down, megan abandoned her snacks for the night and trailed off to the guest bedroom in fear for her life.

she burst into the room, closing the door with a quick click and catching the immediate attention of lara, daniela, and manon who were on live. seeing megan's flushed state along with the muffled commotion they heard previously, lara muted the live as the ginger plopped down on the carpet floor. "please, if any of you love me... switch rooms with me."

"oh keep the live muted guys, i need to hear whatever information megan's about to rant out." manon got up from the bed and left the camera's view, plopping down on the carpet besides a drained megan.

"guys... hypothetically- and i mean hypothetically!" the girl practically yelled, startling daniela who was trying to read the chat's comment, confusion of the viewers on what was happening. "hypothetically... if you felt a mix of never-felt before emotions toward someone that you couldn't have, hypothetically, what would that mean?"

daniela yelped out a laugh, quick to cover her mouth as she spoke, "it hasn't even been a day and y/n's already got you on a hook. i knew something was up."

"hey, you only knew something was up when i proposed the idea of it earlier!" manon pointed at her roommate, who only held her hands up in a sarcastic manner, and lara opted to leave the camera's view completely, only adding fuel to the chat's confusion.

"oh, megan, honey." lara knelt down, pushing manon aside to be by the girl, circling the ginger's head onto her shoulder. "it means that, one, you're gay, and two, you're gay for y/n."

"i think that we've already covered that megan skiendiel likes girls." manon spoke matter-of-factly, giving lara a jab to the thigh for pushing her, "what i want to know is what happened."

megan only groaned again, body slumping into lara as daniela stared at her amused. it wasn't everyday that megan was a puddle of water over someone, the girl normally finding every male and female that came her way too absurd to be with. "well, we were walking and then wind came out of nowhere so it got cold, and she noticed i was shivering so she lent me her jacket."

the girls 'ooh'ed, leaning in close to hear megan's disgruntled voice better. "and then i had realized i had forgotten my wallet, and every normal person would've gotten mad, right? but she was so nice and understanding and calmed me down and ughhhhhh," the girl was rambling, hands rubbing down her face to try and clear the blush that never left her cheeks. "then we were in the store and i thought she was being flirty so in my head i was like, "is she flirting with me?" and i didn't know i said it out loud and she responded and basically said that she was."

the girls cheered, manon and daniela high-fiving while lara let out a high-pitched squeal. "then what?"

"well..." megan dozed off for a second before putting her hands on her face again and groaning, seemingly agitated. "we walked home and i forgot to return her jacket, so when i went into sophia's room she noticed it immediately and started badgering non-stop about it."

"so what i'm hearing and assuming is..." manon leaned by the table, grabbing her drink before taking a sip and handing it to lara who was making grabby hands, "you had the chance to flirt back and connect even further, but instead you chose to be a chalant dork that was geeking out the entire time."

lara almost choked on the drink, putting it aside while silently laughing like a maniac. daniela had left the room with the live, entertaining the viewers with whatever story time she had going on, but the live had caught a glimpse of a distressed megan on the floor as she was leaving and became a frenzy in the chat log. "i didn't come here to get bullied! and for your information, manon, watch your back 'cause this was your fault."

megan pressed her pointer finger into manon's chest, and the girl meekly rolled her eyes and batted megan's hand away. "oh, blame me for wanting to connect you with your fine shit."

"megan, i understand that we're half-joking and half-serious right now, but genuinely," lara pushed herself up toward megan, hand coming to pat down the girl's dishelved hair as curiosity laced her voice. "why exactly are you going crazy over her? it can't be just 'cause she's pretty—you've seen plenty of pretty people around—although i do admit that she's more fine than i anticipated, but i literally called manon crazy earlier for suggesting something between you two."

"it's just the way i feel around her, like her aura throws me off completely in a good way." megan was starting to calm down, despite remaining sprawled on the floor as if she had just ran a marathon. "you guys know me. i flirt either as a joke or maybe to get attention, and i always deflect whenever i get shy, but being around her makes me want to be honest- i was honest!"

"and i- no!" megan cut herself off with her own shriek, a knock sounding at the door that locked behind daniela when she originally left. "do not open it!"

"you don't know who it is," lara whisper-yelled, meeting megan's tone. "it could just be dani coming back."

"or it could be sophia coming to take me up to heaven herself! don't open it." megan urged, holding onto manon's arm with a life-dependent grip when she tried to get up, attempting to keep her in place. she sent a look to lara, who sprang up to open the door without looking back.

"hi," a familiar voice rang from the creaked-open door, and megan could shrink down into a ball if she wanted to. "y/n, what a nice surprise!"

lara opened the door wider, and you walked in, making eye contact with the sprawled out figure on the floor that scrambled to get up. manon and lara shared a look, lips pursing together to stifle their laughs while megan attempted a quick fixing of her hair.

"err... yoonchae—human yoonchae—told me that you were probably gonna stay in here, so i figure i'd bring these to you in case you were too scared to come get them." you set down the bags of snacks on an emptied table, stepping back just in time to avoid lara and manon who dove for the bags at first glance. you turned to see megan tearing off your jacket, instinctively putting your hand out to stop her.

"er, it's still cold in here, i don't know why my dad likes the house to be absolutely freezing, but you should keep it." you urged, and megan meekly nodded and closed the jacket around her once more.

"what time do you guys leave tomorrow?" you asked, scratching the back of your neck like you were guilty of some ploy, which you were. you initially came into the room to not only drop off the snacks, but also to ask your way into getting megan's number, expecting the other girls to be asleep or at least minding their own business.

"eight in the morning," manon spoke muffled, mouth full of some flour dessert that megan you bought. you nodded your head, "i'll make sure to see you guys out, then. hm?"

as you headed for the door, opening it with a slight creak, you slanted your head back to see megan burning her eyes into the back of your head. "for the record, you can keep the jacket entirely if you like," you paused, biting the inside of your lip, as if you were almost hesitating, "it looks better on you." then you shut the door.

[xoxo-sarah]

I Missed This; Missed You.

My Wife part 5

Part 4 | part 6

↝a/n: Short chapter just to get something out for you guys! I finally got around to watching Fear the Walking Dead and I want to write for it so bad. Send in requests!! I've only gotten to the start of season 3.

↝pairing: season1!Daryl Dixon x wife!reader

↝warning: illusion to smut but not detailed, reader has a bra and female anatomy, usual TWD stuff, not proofread, kissing, showering together, domestic Daryl, foreshadowing 🫣

↝⎙ 4.10.25

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

Series Masterlist | Character Masterlist

Jenner led you all through the hall, motion-sensing lights turning on the further you walked and off the further you walked away. Tenson still laid over you all, after what had happened in the cafeteria. Shane dragged behind the rest of you, feeling the distaste and judgment.

“Most of the facility is powered down, including housing, so y'all have to make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you’d like. There’s a REC room down the hall that you kids might enjoy,” He turned, kneeling to Carl and Sophia’s height, “just don’t plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that drains power. The same applies–”

He stood, looking at the group as you all carried packs on your backs and bags in your hands. “If you shower, go easy on the hot water.” Jenner turned, walking down another hall.

You stood there, registering what he had said.

Glenn turned around, grinning from ear to ear with boyish hope radiating off of him. “Hot water?”

T-Dog smiled from beside him, “That’s what the man said.”

They laughed in surprise before racing off down the hall.

You turned to Daryl, suddenly becoming aware of all of the caked up grime on your skin. Daryl watched your face as you scrunched your nose in disgust.

Water streamed out of the showerhead, beating down against the shower floor. Daryl turned the knob more, sticking his hand under the stream to feel the temperature.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, watching as steam clouded it. Still, the fluorescent lights highlighted everything. Your lips were pale aside from where the sweet wine had stained the skin. Eyebags dragged from under your eyes, puffing outward. New wrinkles had formed, especially your frown lines.

Sweat, dirt, and blood coated your skin. Hairs stood up every which way while simultaneously having oil caked on each hair- of which were knotted together. Blood still coated your arms and under your fingernails. Daryl’s shirt you had put on was stained with sweat.

“Missed ya.”

Your eyes flickered upward, watching as Daryl stood behind you in the mirror. The water beat hard against the shower in the background.

“Missed all of ya.” He stepped forward, arms rounding on your waist. He pulled the shirt you had fully unbuttoned off, throwing it to the floor. Your worn-out bra was on display. Blood had soaked through your shirt, staining the fabric slightly, from having to drag the bodies to their graves. But you didn’t want to think about that. Not at this moment.

He swiftly unhooked the clasp, letting it fall down your arms. Your fingers moved to untie the string that held your pants up. You stepped out of them, before turning to face Daryl.

He picked your hands up from where they hung by your sides. He undid the make-shift bracelet, gently laying it on the counter, before gripping your wedding ring. It left a visible band on your finger, where dirt couldn’t get.

There was a moment of tenderness and vulnerability between you two.

His rough, calloused hands gently engulfed your jaw, as he stared at you in awe. That look was strictly reserved for you.

Steam fogged up the mirror and shower door.

He leaned forward, thin lips kissing right beside your lips. This was the side of Daryl reserved only for you. Hell, he didn’t even know he had this side of himself, until you.

Your eyes squeezed shut, voice a soft whisper, “I need a minute.”

Daryl let you pull away, pulling your last undergarment off, before stepping under the water. Warmth immediately flooded over you. Your muscles instantly relaxed. Your hands went to smooth your soaked hair back. You watched the gunk swirl down the drain, before tilting your chin to the roof, water soaking your face.

After a few minutes, the shower door opened, a naked Daryl looking at you. Moving away from under the water, you let him have his turn. He slicked his hair back, water droplets clinging to his lashes as he looked at you.

“How far do you think we’re going to make it?”

Daryl contemplated your question.

“Duh’n matter.” His tongue poked out, swiping the water from his lips.

You slowly nodded, moving to wash your hair.

-

You sat on the edge of the cot that Daryl had pushed to be flush with the couch. He was adamant on you taking the couch since there was only room for one, and him the uncomfortable cot. You eventually gave up trying. There was no point.

Daryl walked into the room, using a towel to dry his hair.

Disregarding the towel, he walked to you. He grabbed the hand you had been biting the fingernails off of subconsciously. He hated how you had that habit, which was hypocritical since he did the same thing.

“What’re ya worried ‘bout? We’re safe here.”

“For how long?”

“Don’t know.” His calloused hands ran up your arm, to the scratch. “Let’s just make the most of the time we do have, hm?”

He cupped your face, smashing his lips against yours. His lips moved in a liquid motion of need.

You smiled against his lips, following his lead as he pushed you back on the cot. “Missed this.” He hooked one of your legs over his hip, leaving sloppy kisses from your cheek, down your neck, to the valley of your breasts. Your hands roamed his naked top half, over the scars on his back. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades. “Really missed this.”

-

You laid comfortably on your side on the couch, looking down at Daryl. He laid on the cot, facing toward you. His hand laid underneath his scrunched pillow, giving his neck support that he hadn't had at the camp or sleeping in his truck. His lips were parted as he slept, emitting a small snore.

He looked so peaceful.

So oblivious to what the next day would bring.

Next part

•2021-2025 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I do NOT give permission!]

💍 Tags: @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch @wwalkergutzz @buckyssbestgirl @darylmysavior @queen-of-bad-ideas @notmirnda @vomiting-blood @i93jjk @multifandomfan @gaudesstuff @cymbalta-slut @dix0nspretty @lunajay33 @v3vina @izumi1457 @honeycoffeeee-blog @creampuffx14 @kaz11283

[spiderb00]

DRIVE ME CRAZY

Daniela Avanzini x reader

"You are the only person who can drive Daniela's car (besides her), and only she knows why"

Genre – fluff Warnings – none (request)

now playing - No Pole, by Don Toliver

Leaving the party, you had Daniela leaning on you, the Latina too drunk to stand. Manon was behind, holding on to her girlfriend, a little more sober than Daniela. You had the day off, and you took advantage of it to have some fun together.

"Yn, you can go with us if you want, you don't need to call an Uber, we'll drop you and Dani off at home" Manon says, her girlfriend nodding and agreeing.

"What? No, thank you guys, but we're going in Dani's car." You said, taking the keys out of your pocket, opening the passenger door and placing Daniela in the seat.

"But how is Dani going to drive? Is she drunk as hell?" Manon said, not even crossing her mind that you would drive.

"She's not driving, I'm going." You said, as if it were obvious. Manon's jaw dropped.

"Daniela lets you drive her car?" Manon asks in complete shock.

Daniela had never let anyone touch her car, Manon had tried more times than she could count and the blonde had always refused every time. Daniela considered that car her baby, the most precious treasure she had, the red car was simply treated better than many people.

"Yeah, why are you so surprised?" You asked, really confused as to why Manon was so surprised.

Manon didn't even bother to answer you, walking past and going straight to Daniela, you and Manon's girlfriend shrugging.

"Dani, look at me." Manon said, patting the Latina's face, who was almost asleep in the passenger seat. "You let Yn drive your car, but you didn't let me go to the mall that day?" Manon asked, receiving only a drunken smile from the blonde.

"My baby can drive my other baby." Daniela said, reaching up and giving Manon a little "boop" on the nose, laughing and throwing her head back on the seat.

Giggling, you twirled your girlfriend's car keys in your fingers, leaning close to the passenger door and checking to make sure Daniela didn't have any body parts outside the car before closing the door.

"Good night everyone, stay safe and drive carefully." You said, winking at Manon as you got into the car, starting it up and making the engine make a satisfying sound.

Manon was left with her jaw on the floor, only to be pulled out of her stupor by her girlfriend.

"Damn, she's so fucking charming."

Manon thought that was just an isolated incident, Daniela was drunk, that was the only reason you had the power to drive Daniela's car. She couldn't be more wrong.

You, the Kats, and the Kats' girlfriends were relaxing, all of you playing the monopole that Yoonchae had won from Manon. Daniela was starting to get hungry, and leaning over she rested her head on the chest of the woman who was sitting behind her.

"Baby, can you please go buy food?" Daniela asked, kissing your neck and smiling innocently.

Smiling at her, you placed your hand around her neck, bringing her in for a quick kiss, then standing up.

"Does anyone need anything?" You asked, taking Dani's car keys from her hand as she held it out to you.

"Oh, could you bring me-"

"Wait, wait, wait! Is that your car key? Didn't I see it outside?" Manon asked, making all the girls turn their attention to Yn.

"It's my car." Daniela says, shrugging as if it were obvious.

"Are you serious?" "Are you kidding?" "I can't believe this!" The voices were heard, all surprised, making Daniela raise an eyebrow and you become confused.

"Why are you so surprised?" Daniela says, looking at all the girls for answers.

"You don't let anyone drive your car!" Sophia said, making Manon point at her in agreement.

"THAT'S IT! I'VE BEEN SAYING THIS AND NOBODY LISTENS TO ME!" Manon says, jumping in her place on the floor, making her girlfriend try to calm her down a little.

"Guys, Yn is my girlfriend..." Daniela tried to end the discussion.

"WE ARE YOUR BEST FRIENDS!" All the girls screamed in leather.

"Yeah, but Yn looks sexy driving my car." Daniela said, looking at you and biting her lip ignoring the "ew" leather that was coming from the girls.

The road was empty, you had your left hand on the steering wheel and your left hand on Daniela's thigh, who was sitting in the passenger seat. Daniela's playlist played softly through the car speakers, and you were relaxed by the caresses Dani was giving the back of your head.

"I love seeing you like this..." Daniela said, looking at you and biting her lower lip.

"Like what?" You asked, even though you already knew what the Latina was talking about.

"Driving, all focused..." Daniela said, buckling her seatbelt and leaning in to kiss your jawline as you stopped at a red light.

"Dani... Get back to your seat, baby." You said, unconsciously lifting your head and exposing your neck for the blonde to kiss.

"But you look so sexy like this, I want to make you feel good." Daniela said, placing her hand on your cheek and pulling you into a hot kiss.

Your two tongues danced together, Daniela's lip gloss gave the kiss a good taste, your sighs could be heard, but the music drowned most of it out.

Startled by the horn that sounded behind you, you and Daniela quickly moved away, the blonde laughing while you shook your head, giving a little smile.

"We'll finish this when we get home." Daniela said, buckling her belt again and winking at you.

Well guys, requests are finally being taken!!!

if this has any errors, sorry, I brought my mom to the salon and I don't have my computer, so I wrote everything on my phone.

but, I hope you like it <3

xoxo, spider.

[rayjeff]

Okay chat, here's some new updates from my life (nobody cares, but hey. It's yappersville anyway)

I've been working on my finals these past few months and I'm going to animate a short film (all alone, in 3 months, i'm gonna regret this, I already feel it.)

Here are new simpler designs of my OCs I made specifically for this project. They are not perfect, but I like to think that they are recognizable.

Sam (Samantha Thompson)

Sophia (Sophia Adams)

And some storyboards I already have. This whole film won't be really complicated or well animated, because I simply don't have enough time for such an ambitious project.

But anyway, that's what I've been working on. Maybe I'll do an update on the project if I have some free time.

For now I'm just really tired and unmotivated to do anything productive. But, well, grind never ends.

Will this story become canon for the characters? No, probably not. It's just a school project and I want to make it a clear story that anyone could follow. I won't dump my whole lore into it, because it's quite long and complicated. I just want to graduate my school, okay? xD

[buckets-and-trees]

Red, White & True: Brooklyn - The Interview [8/17]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 6.1k Summary: Oprah. You're filming your interview with Oprah.

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Previous Chapter | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[OCTOBER 6 - AFTER LUNCH - BROOKLYN BROWNSTONE]

As you stand in front of the full-length mirror in the master bedroom, you can't help but marvel at the transformation. The stylists have worked their magic, turning you from a somewhat frazzled campaign wife into someone who looks like she belongs on the cover of a magazine.

The dress they've chosen is a deep emerald green, its silhouette classic and elegant. The fabric drapes beautifully, accentuating your figure without being too revealing. It's the perfect balance of sophistication and approachability - exactly the image you want to project for this interview.

Sophia flits around you, making minor adjustments to the dress and ensuring everything is perfect. Her attention to detail is unwavering, and you're grateful more and more each day for her steady presence. Beyond being an invaluable assistant, she’s become someone you truly rely on.

But when she leaves the room for a moment to go back to the array of clothes and accessories brought in for this interview to grab a bracelet that she thought would round out the look, you’re also grateful to have a moment alone with one of your oldest friends.

"How are you feeling?" Pepper asks, her voice calm and reassuring as she watches from her perch on the edge of the bed.

You take a deep breath, meeting Pepper's eyes in the mirror. "Nervous," you admit. "But ready, I think. The lunch helped a lot."

And it had. Oprah, true to her reputation, had put everyone at ease almost immediately. The conversation had flowed naturally, touching on everything from Steve's experiences during World War II to your work before joining the campaign. Gayle had regaled you with hilarious stories from her and Oprah's early days in television, while Stedman had offered insightful perspectives on navigating life in the public eye.

Pepper nods, a small smile playing at her lips. "Just remember to be yourself - that's who Steve fell in love with, and that's who the American people will fall in love with too."

Her words catch you off guard, and you turn to face her directly. "Love?" you repeat.

Your heart races at Pepper's words. Love? The term feels both thrilling and terrifying. You and Steve have grown closer, yes, but love? That's a big step, one you're not sure either of you are ready to acknowledge yet.

Pepper seems to sense your internal turmoil. She stands, moving to place a comforting hand on your arm. "I've known Steve for a long time, particularly since the Battle of Earth," she says gently. "He doesn’t look at anyone the way he looks at you now. Whatever you want to call it, there's something special between you two."

You nod, unable to find the words to respond. Your mind is whirling with the implications of Pepper's observation. Before you can dwell on it further, there's a soft knock at the door.

"Come in," you call, giving your dress one final adjustment.

The door opens and Sophia strides back in, but with Steve behind her. He looks incredibly handsome in a perfectly tailored navy suit that complements your dress. His hair is neatly styled, and there's a warmth in his eyes as he takes in your appearance.

"Wow," he says softly, his gaze traveling from your face down to your shoes and back up again. "You look amazing."

You feel heat creeping up your cheeks at his admiration. "Thank you," you reply, smoothing down the front of your dress. "You clean up pretty well yourself, Captain."

Steve grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way you've come to adore. He steps further into the room, coming to stand beside you.

Sophia clears her throat discreetly but hands off the bracelet she went to retrieve to Steve. "We should head downstairs in about five minutes,” she says. “The crew is just finishing set up in the living room."

You nod, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves.

"We'll give you two a moment," Pepper says, a knowing smile playing at her lips as she and Sophia exit the room, closing the door behind them.

Steve steps closer, holding out the delicate bracelet Sophia had brought.

"May I?" he asks softly.

You nod, extending your wrist. Steve's fingers are gentle as he fastens the bracelet, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. The simple act feels intimate, a stark contrast to the public persona you've both been maintaining for months.

"There," Steve says, his voice low. "Perfect."

You look up, meeting his eyes. There's an intensity in his gaze that makes your breath catch. For a moment, you're transported back to last night - the warmth of his lips on yours, the safety you felt in his arms.

"Steve," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "About last night..."

Steve's eyes soften as he looks at you, his hand still gently holding your wrist. "Last night was-" he pauses, searching for the right words. "It was wonderful."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and excitement at his words. "It was," you agree softly. "I've been wanting to talk about it, but with everything going on today..."

"I know," Steve says, his thumb tracing small circles on the inside of your wrist. "There's never enough time, is there?"

You shake your head, leaning into him slightly. "No, there isn't. But Steve, I want you to know that I-"

There's a gentle knock at the door, interrupting your moment. "Two minutes!" Sam’s voice calls from the other side.

You both let out a soft chuckle, the tension of the moment breaking. Steve reluctantly lets go of your wrist, but takes your hand in his. “Ready?”

You push up and give him a soft peck. “Let’s do this,” you reply, as always, and can’t help the broad smile on your face as he smiles right back at you, eyes full of warmth.

Hand in hand, you and Steve make your way downstairs. The living room has been transformed into a cozy interview set, with plush armchairs arranged around a small coffee table. Warm lighting bathes the room in a soft glow, creating an intimate atmosphere.

Oprah greets you both with a warm smile as you enter. "There they are," she says, her voice rich and welcoming. "Are we ready to get started?"

You nod, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbling up inside you. Steve gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before you both take your seats across from Oprah.

As the camera crew makes final adjustments, Oprah leans in slightly. "Remember," she says softly, "this is just a conversation. We're here to tell your story. Forget about the cameras, it’s just us talking.”

You take a deep breath, feeling Steve's steady presence beside you as Oprah settles into her chair. The cameras start rolling, but true to her word, Oprah's warm smile and relaxed demeanor make it easy to forget about the lights and equipment surrounding you.

"I have the pleasure of sitting down with Captain Steve Rogers and his wife in their Brooklyn home. Over the past few months, we've watched a figure of freedom step from his role as Captain America, protector of the people, into a campaign pursuing a chance to serve as our country’s next president. But here and now, we want to get to know the real Steve and Mrs. Rogers.”

"Thank you for coming to our home, Oprah," Steve says, his voice steady and warm.

You nod in agreement, offering a smile. "We're honored to have you here."

Oprah leans forward slightly, her eyes alight with genuine curiosity. "Steve, let's start with you. You're a man who has already done so much for this country - and indeed, the world. You served with distinction in World War II, becoming a symbol of hope and courage for an entire generation. Then, decades later, you emerged as a superhero, saving the world time and time again as Captain America. With such an extraordinary legacy already behind you, what made you decide to run for president?"

Steve takes a moment to consider the question, his brow furrowing slightly as he gathers his thoughts. The late afternoon sun streaming through the windows casts a warm glow on his face, highlighting the earnestness in his expression.

"You know, Oprah, that's a question I've asked myself many times," he begins, his voice thoughtful. "I've been fortunate enough to serve this country in many capacities over the years. From a skinny kid in Brooklyn who just wanted to do his part in the war, to waking up decades later in a world I barely recognized, to fighting alongside some of the most remarkable individuals I've ever known as part of the Avengers. Through it all, my core belief has remained the same - I want to help people, to stand up for what's right, and to protect those who can't protect themselves."

Steve pauses, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he continues. "But over time, I started to realize that while punching bad guys and stopping alien invasions is important, there are other ways to make a difference. Ways that can have a lasting impact on people's daily lives. Healthcare, education, economic opportunity - these are the battles that millions of Americans are fighting every day. And I want to be there in those trenches with them, working to create a better future for all of us."

You watch Steve as he speaks, feeling a swell of pride at his words. His sincerity is palpable, and you can see Oprah nodding thoughtfully.

"That's a powerful perspective, Steve. Early in the campaign, there was an overwhelming amount of press and public opinion saying you couldn’t do this, and some still say that you can’t. How do you address that view - both for yourself and for the public?”

There’s a slight tick in Steve’s jaw, but you think it’s small enough only you may truly notice. “Before I was Captain America,” he responds, “I was denied enlistment to the military five times. After I became a super soldier, I was kept out of combat duty, told I couldn’t serve.”

Steve's voice remains steady as he continues, "I don't let others define what I'm capable of. I've faced impossible odds before and come out the other side. This campaign isn't about proving anything to anyone - it's about serving the American people in the best way I know how."

You feel a surge of admiration at Steve's words, and you can't help but reach out to place your hand on his arm supportively. He glances at you, a small smile playing at his lips.

Oprah nods, her expression thoughtful. "And what about you?" she asks, turning her attention to you. "How has this journey been for you? It's not every day that someone finds themselves married to Captain America and potentially on the path to becoming First Lady."

You take a deep breath, acutely aware of the cameras trained on you. "It's been quite the whirlwind," you admit with a small laugh.

"It's certainly not a path I ever imagined for myself," you continue, your voice growing more confident as you speak. "But being with Steve, supporting him in this journey - it's opened my eyes to so many things. The challenges facing our country, yes, but also the incredible resilience and spirit of the American people we've met on the campaign trail."

You pause, gathering your thoughts. "I've always believed in serving my community, in doing what I can to make a positive difference. This campaign has given me a platform to do that on a much larger scale. It's daunting at times, but also incredibly inspiring."

Oprah leans in, her eyes warm. "And how has this affected your relationship? A presidential campaign must put an enormous strain on even the strongest partnerships."

You feel Steve's hand cover yours where it rests on his arm. The gesture is small, but it gives you strength.

You take a moment to consider Oprah's question, glancing at Steve before answering. "It's certainly been an adjustment," you begin, a small smile playing at your lips. "Our first few months of marriage have been anything but typical. But in many ways, I think it's brought us closer together."

Steve nods in agreement, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "We're in this together," he adds, his voice warm. "Every challenge, every victory - we face it as a team."

"That's beautiful," Oprah says, her eyes twinkling. "Can you give us an example of how you support each other through the ups and downs of the campaign?"

You and Steve exchange a look, a silent conversation passing between you. "Well," you begin, "there was a moment a few weeks ago, after a particularly grueling day of campaign events. We were both exhausted

"Well," you begin, "there was a moment a few weeks ago, after a particularly grueling day of campaign events. We were both exhausted, and I could tell Steve was feeling discouraged. The polls hadn't been great that week, and some of the media coverage had been pretty harsh."

You pause, glancing at Steve, who nods encouragingly for you to continue.

"So I suggested we take a break from everything - no phone calls, no strategy meetings, just us. We went for a walk in the park near our hotel, found a quiet bench, and just talked. Not about the campaign or polls or policies, but about us. Our hopes, our fears, our dreams for the future."

Steve picks up the story, his voice warm with affection. "It was exactly what I needed. She has this way of helping me see the bigger picture, of reminding me why we're doing this in the first place.

"And it's not just me," Steve adds, his eyes meeting yours with a soft smile. "There have been times when the pressure gets to her too. Late nights when she's pouring over briefing documents, trying to master every policy detail. That's when I remind her to take a breath, to step back and remember that it's not about being perfect - it's about being genuine and caring for people."

You nod, feeling a surge of warmth at Steve's words. "He's right," you say, turning back to Oprah. "We balance each other out. When one of us stumbles, the other is there to help pick us up."

Oprah smiles, her expression warm. "That's beautiful. It's clear you two have a strong partnership. You’ve been doing what a candidate is supposed to do and been out on the road talking about policies and goals if you were to be elected, not been going on tour to parade around your marriage, but this interview is about getting to know the two of you better. We have brief public statements about your relationship, but how did this all begin? What’s the love story behind Captain America and his wife."

You and Steve exchange a quick glance, a silent agreement passing between you. You've rehearsed this story, crafted it carefully to walk the line between truth and the narrative needed for the campaign. But as you look into Steve's eyes, you find yourself wanting to share something more. You remember what is was like to watch Harry and Meghan tell their story to Oprah. It will be a definitive moment in public history, and certainly in their story. Are you telling the version of your story you want to be out there forever?

You take a deep breath, wishing you could share more of the truth than you had originally planned. "Well, Steve is easy to fall for, but it actually wasn't love at first sight," you begin with a soft smile. "We met for the first time under rather... unusual circumstances."

“Pepper Potts set the two of you up, correct?” she asks.

You nod, your mind racing as you try to navigate this delicate moment. "Yes, Pepper was involved, and it wasn't a traditional setup. You see, I—"

"Actually," Steve interjects gently, placing his hand over yours, "if we're being completely honest, the first time I met her was on our wedding day."

There's a moment of stunned silence. You can practically hear the collective intake of breath from the crew behind the cameras. Oprah's eyebrows shoot up, her professional composure slipping for just a second to reveal genuine surprise.

You realize your own jaw has dropped and you quickly snap it shut.

"I'm sorry, did I hear that correctly?" Oprah leans forward, her voice a mix of disbelief and intrigue. "You met on your wedding day?"

You feel your heart racing as Steve's words hang in the air. This wasn't part of the plan, but as you look into his eyes, you see nothing but sincerity and... is that relief?

Taking a deep breath, you follow Steve's lead. "Yes," you say, your voice steadier than you feel. "It's true. Steve and I met on the day of our wedding."

Oprah leans back in her chair, her expression a mix of fascination and disbelief. "Well, this is certainly unexpected. I think we're all going to need a bit more explanation. How does something like that happen?"

Steve squeezes your hand gently before speaking. "It's not a conventional story, that's for sure," he begins, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "But then again, very little about my life has been conventional."

Steve takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours briefly before turning back to Oprah. "The truth is, our marriage was initially arranged as part of a political strategy for my presidential campaign. The idea was that a stable family image would resonate better with voters than a single superhero."

You can see the shock register on Oprah's face, but to her credit, she maintains her composure. "An arranged marriage? That's quite unusual in modern America."

You nod, picking up the thread. "It is. But it’s not unheard of."

“Why do it? And not him,” Oprah clarifies. “You. Why would you agree to do this?”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. "It's a fair question," you begin, your voice soft but steady. "I've always been passionate about making a difference in the world. When I was approached with this... unique opportunity, I saw it as a chance to do just that, on a scale I never imagined possible."

You pause, gathering your thoughts. "I knew Steve's reputation, his character. I believed in his vision for the country. And I thought that if I could help bring that vision to fruition, it would be worth it. It wasn't just about politics - it was about being part of something bigger than myself."

“Why not a position within a potential administration?” she pressed.

You bite your lip, then sit a little straighter.

You were already all in. Now that Steve had flipped the script, there was no reason to keep up pretenses.

“Before I met Steve, I was married to someone else - Jeff Connor. We had a good life together, but then... the Blip happened."

Oprah's eyes stay focused, but her expression softens. "To clarify for those who aren’t familiar with your background, you were among the half of our population who disappeared?"

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Yes. One moment I was there, and the next... five years had passed. I came back to a world that had moved on without me. Jeff had remarried, thinking I was gone forever."

A hush falls over the room as the weight of your words sinks in. Oprah leans forward, her expression compassionate. "That must have been incredibly difficult. Can you tell us more about what that experience was like for you?"

You nod slowly, taking a deep breath. "Half the planet disappeared like I did, and we all have our own stories. For me, it was disorienting, to say the least. One moment I was going about my day, and the next, I was standing in the same spot, but everything had changed. The world had moved on without me for five years. My job was gone, my home belonged to someone else, and Jeff... he had built a new life, thinking I was never coming back."

You feel Steve's hand tighten around yours, offering silent support. “I will never blame Jeff for moving forward in his life and finding new happiness. There was no way anyone left behind knew it was possible to bring us back. But those first few months were - as you said - incredibly difficult. I felt lost, like I didn't belong anywhere. One thing I actually told Steve was that it felt like waking up from a dream, but only to find that the nightmare was real.”

Oprah lets the silence while you steel yourself for a moment sit undisturbed.

When you’re ready again, you continue.

“But slowly, with the help of support groups and therapy, I started to rebuild my life."

Steve picks up where you left off, his voice filled with empathy. "I went in the ice in 1943 and woke up in 2011, a stranger to the world I’d returned to, connected to no one. When she shared her story with me, I could understand - and I felt understood. Not everyone knows what it is like to be displaced in time, to wake up and find the world moved on without you. Half the planet experienced that displacement, and it’s more difficult for some of us to talk about than others. But we’ve found strength in being able to share that part of our past.”

Oprah nods solemnly, her eyes filled with compassion. "Thank you for sharing that with us. It's a perspective many of us can't even begin to imagine, but we all know someone who shares your experience. Now, how did this lead to you deciding to pursue an arranged marriage?"

“Pepper gave me my first job as an intern, so we’ve known each other a long time. She invited me to consider becoming part of Steve’s campaign, and I came to New York to meet with her. I read over the policies Steve was building, and I aligned with the values and the ideas. They resonated with things I wanted to see for the future of our country. I had no idea before I sat across from her that this was the position she wanted to pitch.”

You pause, gathering your thoughts before continuing. "I know it sounds unconventional, even crazy to some people. But I've always believed that every relationship, whether romantic or not, takes work. It's about communication, respect, and shared values. When Pepper explained the situation and I learned more about Steve, I saw the potential for a strong partnership, even if there was never going to be love or romance involved. Having loved and lost a great love, I’ll admit there was a quiet thought in the back of my head that even wanted to stay away from falling in love again, and a politically arranged marriage could be that safe kind of situation. We weren’t under illusions or expectations to be feeling grand, sweeping emotions.”

“That’s quite an unconventional approach. I think some people listening will understand, and some won’t. Some will probably accuse you of being jaded or having an agenda.”

You frown. “You’re not wrong. We’ve clearly been guarded about our relationship from the beginning because we knew the perception would vary widely across the board.”

Steve nods, his expression thoughtful. "We knew from the start that this wasn't a typical situation. But we also believed that we could build something meaningful together, even if it didn't start with romantic love."

Oprah leans forward again, her curiosity evident. "And how has that worked out? You mentioned earlier that you've grown closer through the campaign. Has your relationship evolved beyond what you initially expected?"

You and Steve exchange a glance, a moment of silent communication passing between you. You feel a warmth spread through your chest as you realize just how much things have changed since that first meeting.

"It has," you admit, a soft smile playing at your lips. "When we first met, we were essentially strangers agreeing to a partnership. But over these past months, as we've faced challenges together and supported each other, something deeper has developed. As I said, Steve is easy to fall for."

Steve squeezes your hand gently. "Because what we've built together has become so real, I couldn't sit here and not set the record straight. This campaign is about four years, possibly eight, of leading this country. That's too long to keep up any kind of charade.”

Oprah is quiet for a moment, contemplating both of you, her eyes moving between you.

Then she says, “Some people will say this is a political stunt.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach at Oprah's words. It's the question you've been dreading, but you know it needs to be addressed head-on.

Steve leans forward slightly, his expression earnest. "I have been judged my entire life, and I’ve learned from the scrutiny that I’ll never change anyone’s mind by defending myself, only proving myself through the actions I take," he begins, his voice steady. "But I want to be clear - this isn't a stunt. It's our life, our relationship. Yes, it started in an unconventional way, but what we've built together is real."

"And what about those who might say this admission could hurt your campaign?" Oprah presses, but more gently.

You take a deep breath, meeting Oprah's gaze. "We understand that concern," you say, your voice calm but resolute. "But we believe that honesty and transparency are crucial, especially for someone seeking the highest office in the land. We're not perfect, and our story isn't a fairy tale. But it is real, and it's ours."

"We believe in the power of partnership," Steve takes over, glancing at you. "In facing challenges head-on, together. In building something meaningful. Our marriage began unconventionally, but so is running as a third party candidate. While there are some politicians who are good and diligent servants of the people, America is tired of games and calculated systemic political maneuvers designed for politics and party battles pitting red and blue against each other not for governing.”

Steve continues, his voice gaining strength, "We want to show that it's possible to bridge divides, to come together despite differences. Our relationship is a testament to that. We started as strangers with a shared goal, and we've grown into partners who truly care for and support each other. That's the kind of leadership and unity we want to bring to this country."

You nod, feeling a surge of pride at Steve's words. "Exactly. We're not asking people to vote for us because of our love story. We're asking them to consider Steve's vision for the country, his policies, and his character. Our relationship is just one part of who we are as people and as a team."

Oprah leans back, a thoughtful expression on her face. "It's refreshing to hear such candor from public figures. Is it too idealistic?”

“This country was founded on lofty ideals that were unheard of at the time. I was nearly there, remember?” Steve jokes, and it draws a genuinely hearty laugh from Oprah.

From that point, the tone and direction of the interview shifts, and the questions start to focus more on presidential potential - philosophies behind the policies, how the American political landscape has changed since the Snap and the Re-Snap and if government has kept up with the needs from that fallout, why Steve decided to make this big move, his running mate Charlie Young, if there’s a possibility it could be the inception of a permanent major third party in America for the future.

You can feel that things are beginning to come to a close. You’ve given input throughout the rest of the interview, but it the majority of the back and forth has been between Steve and Oprah - as it should be since it’s Steve’s name on the ticket.

But just as you sense the time is growing short, you also sense there’s one more curveball coming your way.

"Now, I have one last question for you both," she says, her voice warm but tinged with curiosity. "We've talked about your unconventional start, your growing bond, and your vision for the country. But there's one topic we haven't touched on yet."

You feel a slight tension in Steve's hand where it rests in yours, and you know instinctively what's coming.

"If elected," Oprah continues, her gaze moving between you and Steve, "you would be moving into the White House. It's a place steeped in history, with halls that have echoed with the laughter of children for generations. From the Kennedy children to the Santos duo, we've seen families grow and flourish within those walls."

The room seems to hold its breath as Oprah pauses, her eyes alight with mischief.

You feel your heart rate quicken as Oprah's implication becomes clear. Steve's hand tightens around yours, and you can sense the slight tension in his posture.

"Have you two discussed the possibility of starting a family of your own?”

Steve clears his throat, his voice steady as he responds. "Oprah, that's certainly a big question," he begins, a small smile playing at his lips. "And it's one that we've discussed privately."

“And a fair question to be answered as you have put yourself up for consideration for the highest public office in the land.”

Because you truly know Steve now, you know why he tried to put that question down without answering, and that he is containing an indignant response.

You step up and take the reigns to answer, knowing you can steer this into good territory.

“Oprah, after you interviewed Harry and Meghan, you gave some interesting context about the scrutiny of the Sussexes wanting to be private and yet choosing to do an interview with you. You said that there was a different between privacy and intrusion, and that they understood that since they had played public roles, they were public figures, and that they were navigating how to have boundaries in that sort of complicated landscape. Essentially that interview was a way for them to share who they were and their story in contrast to the invasive rumors and being hunted constantly by paparazzi.”

“I did say that,” Oprah responds, “but that was in 2021 while you were gone.”

You give a little laugh. “True, yes, but Harry and Meghan got married just before the Snap, and I was as enchanted and obsessed with them as so many other Americans! When I got back, I went down a rabbit hole one night checking up on them since so much had clearly happened while I was away.”

Oprah smiles and shakes her head.

“But I bring that up because we know it’s something people will want to know about, but we don’t know yet. "We both love children," you say, your voice warm. "And the idea of starting a family together is something we don’t want to rush since other parts of our relationship have been rushed.”

Steve nods in agreement, his expression softening. "That's right. We're focused on the campaign and on building our relationship right now. If we're fortunate enough to be elected, our priority will be serving the American people to the best of our abilities."

You squeeze Steve's hand gently before continuing. "But we also recognize that family comes in many forms. Whether or not we have children of our own now or in the future, we're committed to supporting American families and creating policies that help all children thrive."

Oprah nods, a warm smile spreading across her face. "I don’t think we could want for a more honest answer. Thank you both for your forthright sincerity throughout this interview. It's been truly thought-provoking."

As Oprah wraps up the interview with her closing remarks, you feel a mix of relief and excitement washing over you. The weight of your shared secret has been lifted, and while you know there will be challenges ahead, you feel stronger in so many ways - individually and in what’s evolving with you and Steve.

As the cameras stop rolling and the crew begins to pack up their equipment, you and Steve remain seated on the couch for a few moments, hands still intertwined. The reality of what just transpired starts to sink in.

You stand as Oprah approaches you both, her expression warm and genuine. "Thank you again for your honesty," she says softly. "I know that couldn't have been easy, but I believe it will resonate with a lot of people."

Steve nods, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "Thank you for giving us the space to share our story," he replies.

As Oprah moves away to speak with her producers, you turn to Steve, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you okay? That was... a lot."

Steve's blue eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of emotions - relief, concern, and something deeper that makes your heart skip a beat. "I am," he says. "You were amazing," he adds, his voice warm with admiration. "I'm sorry I sprung that on you, but I just couldn't..."

"No, don't apologize," you interrupt, squeezing his hand. "It was the right thing to do. I'm glad we did it."

"Captain Rogers, Mrs. Rogers," Sophia's voice interrupts your moment. "The team is ready for a debrief in the study when you're ready."

Steve nods, his expression shifting back into campaign mode. "We'll be right there, Sophia. Thank you."

As Sophia leaves, Steve turns back to you. "Are you ready for this? The next few days are going to be intense."

You square your shoulders. "Ready as I'll ever be," you reply.

Steve lifts your entwined hands and kisses the back of yours before he leads the way to the study.

Jake, Elsa, Lisa the campaign spokesperson, Sam, Bucky, Pepper, and Sophia are all already congregated in the study, and Sophia closes the door behind you.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come.

"That was unexpected," Elsa starts, her voice low.

“Was it though?” Jake asks. “Integrity is hallmark Captain America. I frankly expected him to drop a big reveal before this.” He is possibly the most nonchalant of everyone in the room.

“The interview won’t air until Sunday night primetime, so we have time to prepare,” Lisa says, “but we’ll need to be ready with statements. We’ll get calls, emails, and social media commentary the second the truth comes out before the full interview has aired.”

“Good thing we have the time,” Elsa says, an edge of exasperation in her tone.

“That is why I’m paying you handsomely to be the director of communications on this campaign,” Pepper interjects, thoroughly polite, but clear that she’s serious.

"You're right, Pepper," Elsa says, taking a deep breath. "I apologize. This is what we're here for. We'll craft statements and prepare responses for every possible angle."

Steve steps forward, his posture straight and confident. "I know this wasn't part of the original plan, but I stand by our decision. We can't ask the American people to trust us if we're not being honest with them."

You nod in agreement, feeling a surge of pride at Steve's words. "We're ready to face whatever comes next, together."

Sam clears his throat. "For what it's worth, I think you did the right thing. People appreciate authenticity, especially from their leaders."

Bucky nods, a small smile playing at his lips. "Plus, it's very on-brand for Steve to throw out the playbook and do whatever the hell he wants.”

Steve rounds on him.

“I mean whatever he thinks is right," Bucky smirks, but his eyes are warm, proud.

“Jerk,” Steve murmurs and shakes his head. “How much does this set us back?” he asks the room.

Elsa sighs, running a hand through her hair. "This changes everything campaign-wise. We'll need to completely overhaul our messaging strategy, but since we have the rest of the week on our end knowing this will drop Sunday, we can begin adjusting now so that it doesn’t look like we’re making major turns in the wake of the news."

“And what about in the polls?” Steve follows up with the next question.

Lisa is the one to answer. “It will depend on who tunes in live and starts broadcasting their opinions on social media, but I think we could anticipate a three point drop in the polls, if not four or five.”

You aren’t the only one who winces.

“We’ll weather it,” Pepper insists. “If we need to bring on more staff to compensate and make the final push up through Election Day, we can do it.”

“We’re not going to lose points,” Jake laughs, and everyone turns to look at him. “Our enemies and critics are going to burn us alive for this, but we’re going to gain - at least six points.”

next part: KANSAS CITY - INTERVIEW BROADCAST DAY

well...

What do we think now? Are we excited? Stressed?

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[dixons-sunshine]

I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.

Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.

Word count: 3.9k.

A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.

Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.

“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”

Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”

You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”

“I'm fine. Rather me than you.”

Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.

She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”

Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”

You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.

“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”

Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”

You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”

Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”

You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.

“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”

“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”

“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”

“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”

“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”

The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.

Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”

Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.

“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.

However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.

“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”

“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.

“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”

Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”

Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”

Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.

And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.

“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”

“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”

At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.

Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”

Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.

You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”

Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.

Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.

“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.

“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.

“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”

Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, oh my god.”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.

“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.

Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.

“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.

You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.

Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”

You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”

You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.

“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.

You nodded at him. “Sure.”

“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”

You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.

“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”

“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”

“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”

“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”

As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.

“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”

Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”

Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”

You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.

“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”

You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.

“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.

She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.

With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:

You had feelings for him.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”

You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”

The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences.  Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.

“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”

Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.

“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”

Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.

“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”

In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.

“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”

Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.

“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”

Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.

Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.

[ryoshiwaah]

— Choose Your Character !

🎧 Perfect Night - lsrfm ⁞ Tick-Tack - illit ⁞ Hurt - njz ⁞ (Online Love) - conan gray ⁞ Bourgeoisieses - conan gray ⁞ IT GIRL - aliyah's interlude ⁞ Winner - conan gray ⁞ Girl, so confusing - charli xcx

⌯» Synopsis On the brink of a midlife crisis, your father, owner of a notorious videogames company, decides to develop a 2d fighting game called “Choose Your Character” — The catch? All playable characters are famous streamers and that includes you. Armed with your loyal keyboard and headphones, you decide to play it live, although a problem is quick to present itself: choosing the character. Not wanting to aliment the ongoing war between your two favorite streamers, Minji and Haerin, they become last on your list — that makes the situation worse: they begin to compete for your attention and heart.

⌯» Pairing streamers!catnipz x streamer!fem!reader

⌯» Contains swearing, kys/kms jokes, family issues, rage quitting, ga(y)mers being ga(y)mers, brainrot, poly couple and more!

⌯» Starring njz members, harvey and cocona (xg), yunjin, sakura and chaewon (lsrfm), sunhye (yp), felix and hyunjin (skz), sophia (katseye), haewon (nmixx), yeji and ryujin (itzy), soyeon, minnie and shuhua (i-dle).

⌯» Genre fluff, angst, crack, streamer au, social media au, strangers to friends to lovers, exes to lovers, slowburn.

a/n: this is what I've been working on for the past few weeks. I spent so much time on this than on my hw at some point. Welp, you know the drill, everything is fiction (of course) and there's not a specific faice claim for Y/n. READ THE CHARACTERS PROFILES, THEY'RE IMPORTANT FOR THE LORE. Enjoy, girls, gays and theys😈.

⌯» profiles bitchless fr ⁞ what is a shower ⁞ grass touchers ⁞ NPCs

⌯» undergames

⌯» the hwang family

⌯» chapters

prologue

001. "Thanks! You're getting blocked"

002. Oh, it's just her

003. Pricey apologies (MONEY!) - written

004. She's so kind it's making me want to throw up

005. War is NOT over, it just begun

Ꮺ status: on going

Ꮺ taglist (open): @peranoo, @kristalag, @fruityg0rl, @skz-xii

🗂️NJZ masterlist

[fazcinatingblog]

That one where faz breaks in to look for his garlic crusher? The framed sticky notes thing was made up, it's just the list of the comedians that's there

[morosemars]

Safety Net

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader.

You never needed to ask Daryl to have your back, it was his primal instinct to care and watch over you. Ever since the apocalypse, he finally felt needed, like the piece that he was missing finally clicked into place. How could he explain that to the others?

You huddled around the small burning fire, the black smoke smoothly blending into the night sky. You gave a half smile to the group, "Today was good," Rick let's out a small chuckle, "You know she is right. Today is the first of many hard days. Together, we'll get through it as a group." You flash a smile, nodding at his words. Glenn joins in, "We will mourn the ones we've lost, living for them." You glance over, noticing the sour look on Daryl's face. You frown, knowing how close he was to finding Sophia, and all he wanted was to ease Carols anxieties. The group breaks off, small chatter immerging between them. You let out a soft sigh, "I think I'm going to rest up, need to recharge." You gently stood up, walking through the group, saying goodnight to Rick and Carol. Glenns hand hovered on your shoulder, "Well get through this." You thank him, "I know we will. We always do."

The darkness swallows your surroundings, too far from the fire by this point, to be able to even see a foot in front of you. You hum softly, making your way to your tent. Despite your protests, your tent was at the very far end of the camp. Daryl vouched for you, but no one was willing to make the switch with you. "Hey, slow down." You halted, waiting for him to approach. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips were in a line. "What I say about walking off alone?" You glance around, "I've been looking out, I can protect myself." He grabs your wrist, shaking his head firmly. "Just cause' you can protect yourself, doesn't mean you should have too." You could not resist, all the emotion you had been holding onto for weeks cracked through your walls. You forcibly wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to your side. Strings of tears soaked his jacket and all he could do was hold you tighter. "Never feel like you're alone." You shake uncontrollably, your breath staggered, "I try. I really try to be strong, but it becomes too much sometimes." His arms stayed snaked around your waist, but you had slightly pulled away. Your face mere inches away from his, "Let me take you to your tent, that way we don't have to watch our backs." His hand led you to your tent, he unzipped it for you, following after you.

He quickly zipped it back up, turning the portable lamp on, a small glow illuminating your face. His heart pounding at your sight, the wet eyes, the streaks from your tears, your lips were puffy from anxiously biting them. "My poor girl, come here." He opened himself up, giving you room to sit in his lap, his arms wrapped securely around you. Daryl had always been your sanctuary. Ever since you met him, you had searched for him first before anyone else even flashed your mind. His fingers rubbed your hair gently, his other hand gripping you tight. You were special to Daryl, in the end, if all he had left was you, he could live with it. Knowing he has protected you this long has made him confident, on top of the fact you are able to defend yourself as well.

"So many people die. Daryl, it's to the point where I expect it." Your soft eyes meet his, and for a second, he lets his guard down. His mouth hangs open, his eyes closing softly. He leans his forehead against yours, and your hands find their way to his hair. You play with it, hoping to ease some of the emotion dwelling inside of you. "I don't want to feel like it's for nothing..." You hesitate. "Jacqui.. maybe she had the right idea. She's at peace." His body stiffens due to your confession, and his blood starts boiling. "Don't." You sigh again, "I'm sorry, it's just how long do we have to keep going through this? Nowhere is truly ever safe." He looks deep into your eyes, "I'm safe, when you're with me I will protect you." You shake your head, "Youve always done that for me." You crack a half smile, "I could never repay you for how many times you have saved my life." You look away but he grabs your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. "You never have to ask or second guess me. I made a vow to protect you, and that's what I'm going to do."

You and Daryl had never spoke about boundaries, or even what your dynamic was. You couldn't resist, you twist yourself, facing him more directly. You glance from his eyes to his lips, letting the emotion take you over, you slam your lips against his. His body relaxes into the kiss, and he eagerly kisses you back. His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer. You pull away gently, your forehead resting on his. "I had to, at least once." His hand rested on your thigh, "I'm glad you did." He kissed you once more, before ultimately pulling you into a hug, you get used to his presence, desperate for more. "I really like you Daryl... is that wrong?" You question him. He shakes his head, "It's not wrong at all. I really like you." Liked was an understatement, no one had ever gotten under his skin like you had. You weren't even trying, but you had wormed your way in, unbeknownst to him.

You cradle his face, "No one... Daryl Dixon. No one, has given you the love and respect you deserve. You save anyone, no matter their past." You hold him close, the eerie night sounds erupting from outside your tent. Multiple bugs abruptly squealing, interrupting any peace and quiet you once knew. "I love you Daryl." He smiles softly. "I love you too." You frown only for a second, not wanting this night to end. The safety and security of it all. "Will you stay with me?" You question, worried he would say no. "Yes, I can." You lay down, adjusting comfortably against the grass, and the thin layer of tent. "Thank you Daryl." He takes his cross bow off, setting it beside him. He leans down, wrapping his arms around you, he settles himself close to you, desperate for your touch. "You're strong, it has gotten you this far, I know you can handle it out there." You nod, moving closer to him. "I like knowing you can save me." Daryl chuckles. "Anytime you need me, I'll be there." The two of you cuddle soundly on the farm, peace settling in as you let your body rest.

[demigodsanswer]

I would definitely love to read about Percabeth being a first time parent, how overwhelming it can be when the baby (Sophie) won't stop crying and you don't know why.

some asks have got me thinking about clarisse, so have some chill, genuinely friendly and helpful older clarisse, here to help percabeth

~

They'd tried everything.

The burping. The feeding. Bath time. Story time. Bouncing. Laying down. Sleeping in the crib. Sleeping in the bed. Percy had even tried doing what he could remember of the Solja Boy dance, which did seem to confuse Sophia enough that she stopped crying for about four seconds. But then she picked right back up again.

It wasn't stopping. Their daughter had woken up fussy, and after a diaper change and feeding, she'd started crying, and hadn't stopped for, by Percy's best guess, four and a half years.

"How long has it been?" Percy asked.

"One hour, thirteen minutes, and fifty-nine seconds," Annabeth said, bouncing Sophia in her arms, trying to sooth her.

"I'm texting my mom," Percy decided.

He expected Annabeth to push back, to insist that she could figure out what was wrong with her baby on her own. But she just nodded, too tired, and maybe too overwhelmed to do anything but agree.

Percy What do you do when the baby won't stop crying but nothing's wrong?

And then, he had another idea.

He copy and pasted the text, and sent it off to Clarisse.

If he'd told twelve year-old him that the girl who'd shoved his head in the toilet would become a close adult friend, he wouldn't have believed it. He still didn't really believe it. But they taught at the same school now, and (at least, pre-baby) she and Annabeth went bouldering together on weekends. Even weirder, she had three kids of her own. They were all loud, sticky, chaos junkies who tried to steal Percy's wallet for fun, but Percy liked them. They were cool little kids.

His mom texted back first:

Sally If she doesn't have a fever, you might just have to wait it out. She'll get tired eventually.

Not the thing Percy wanted to tell Annabeth, who's hair seemed to be getting taller and more frizzy as her stress levels grew.

"Here," Percy said, holding out his arms to take Sophia from her. "Lay down in the bedroom for a minute," Percy said. Sophia was only three weeks old. Annabeth was still dealing with post-partum bleeding, adjusting to breast feeding, and hardly sleeping the same as him.

Annabeth handed Sophia over without complaint, and flopped back onto the bed, a hand over her eyes.

Percy stepped out of the room and felt his phone buzz.

Clarisse Want me to help?

That was the worst possible thing she could have said. Maybe they were friends, drinking buddies, coworkers. But have Clarisse help him with his own kid? That was insane.

Percy didn't text her back. He just went back to trying to calm Sophia down. He even let Max, their beagle, try to help by licking her little feet.

Max was not much help.

Someone knocked on the door. Percy stood, Sophia in his arms, and looked through the peep hole.

Clarisse.

She only lived a few floors below them in the same demigod-safe building. War heroes didn't have to pay rent.

"I've got this under control," Percy said, opening the door and letting her in.

"Doesn't sound like it," Clarisse pointed out. She held out her hands, waiting for something.

Percy got defensive, and held onto Sophia. "Fuck off," he said. He said they were friends, he didn't say they were nice to each other.

"Don't be a bitch about it," she said. "You know what you do when she won't stop crying?" Clarisse asked.

Percy looked at her, hoping she knew where this girl's off button was. "What?"

"Hand her to someone else," Clarisse said. "Let me take care of her for a bit. Go lay down. Where's blondie?"

"Laying down," Percy said quietly. "I made her hand her over to me so she could take a break." Percy realized his confession put him in a pretty indefensible position. And sleep did sound great. "Okay, if you're sure," he said, handing Sophia over.

"I am," Clarisse said, cradling the still crying baby in her arms. His daughter's head looked like a tomato. "They teach you how to use a spear yet, kid? It's alright, I'll get you up to speed," Clarisse joked to the baby.

"Har har," Percy said. "She'll be hungry again in like an hour. I'll be out to feed her."

"Bottles in the fridge?" Clarisse asked.

"Yeah, some, and some formula."

"Then just get some sleep. I'll grab you if anything is wrong," Clarisse said.

"What?" Percy asked.

"I'm babysitting for you, dumbass. Get some sleep." And then her tone softened a bit. "No one can handle this all with just two people. I'm serious, get some sleep."

If she was being nice, actually, really nice, then he must look worse than he thought.

"Okay," he agreed. "Now, be nice, mind your manners."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Clarisse said.

"I was talking to you," Percy said, before making the confusing and baffling choice to leave his baby with his middle school bully. The choice seemed less confusing when he saw Annabeth already asleep. He got into bed, mumbled something to her about Clarisse being there, and drifted off next to her.

~

Sometimes babies really did cry for no reason. But she realized fast that this baby was crying because she was gassy. Clarisse laid Sophia on her back and moved her legs to get her hips and belly moving. Within seconds she was farting up a storm.

"Does that feel better?" Clarisse asked.

Sophia responded by scrunching up her face and doing a lot more than just farting. It went up the back. Total nightmare. But nothing unfamiliar.

Clarisse just tossed the white onesie out. It was beyond saving and not worth it.

Their little nursery was picture perfect. Pink and yellow walls with bunny rabbits painted on them, white furniture, hung and folded cute little outfits, neat bins of diapers and whips, in locations optimized for quick changes ... It was cute.

"Your mom knows how to put together a space," Clarisse said, wiping Sophia down with baby wipes. "I bet clean ups like these are easy for your dad." She wasn't crying any more, just staring at her with those big green eyes. "Your his, no doubt. Not that there would be. But you know how the gods can be sometimes ..."

Redressed in a new onesie, Clarisse picked her up and sat in the rocking chair -- plush, white, with a little fabric pocket over the side full of baby books.

"I hope you appreciate all this," Clarisse said, popping a pacifier into her mouth. "Second babies never get anything this nice."

Sophia didn't respond, but Clarisse felt like she at least understood.

Instead of reaching for baby books, Clarisse decided to take the opportunity to tell embarrassing camp stories of Sophia's parents, like the time Percy got pants-ed during Capture the Flag by an oak nymph who got offended after he tripped on one of her roots.

After a few minutes, Sophia started staring at her boobs.

"Those don't do that anymore," Clarisse said. "C'mon, lets get you fed."

It was weird how easily all the baby stuff came back to her, juggling bottles and the kid at once like it was no trouble at all. Her own kids were at summer camp, regular mortal day camp, not Camp Half-Blood yet. She'd have to go get them around four, which gave Percy and Annabeth a solid three more hours to sleep.

"I'll have to teach them how to fart you when they wake up," Clarisse said, balancing the bottle for her. "You'll probably get constipated again too. Happened to Hunter when he was a few months old. He didn't go for four days. We had to give him prune juice. It was a mess."

Sophia didn't seem too interested in that story thought, so Clarisse went back to telling her about how obvious it was that her mom had massive crush on her dad. "We used to tease her about it too. She'd get so red. I think we made her cry once. That wasn't nice of us. But it was funny. But hey, jokes on the rest of us, it all worked out for her."

Fed, burped, and changed, Clarisse rested Sophia in her crib, which probably had never actually been used before. She guessed the baby still slept in Percy and Annabeth's room.

Clarisse couldn't find the baby monitor, which was another sign that the baby was probably never far from the parents in the three weeks she'd been Earth-side. So Clarisse just settled in the rocking chair, put in one headphone, and caught up on some boxing highlights.

Sophia must have used up a lot of her energy screaming her little head off, because she slept for a good, long while. While she was still asleep, Clarisse heard a knock at the door. She got up, and spotted Percy's mom through the peep hole.

"Hi Sally," Clarisse said. She liked Percy's mom. She'd gotten to know her while Clarisse helped search for Percy the few months he'd decided to disappear and worry everyone in his life.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Sally asked, smiling and confused.

"They texted me that they couldn't get the baby to stop crying. I took over, sent them to bed," Clarisse explained.

"How's Sophia doing?" Sally asked, stepping into the place.

"Better. Just gas turned out," Clarisse said.

Sally's mom instincts kicked in in a new way, and she started tidying the living room, picking up toys and burp cloths.

"And how long have Mom and Dad been asleep?"

"Eh, two hours-ish I'd guess," Clarisse said. "I'm glad you're here. I need to head out soon. Got my own kids to worry about."

Sally smiled at her. "Thanks so much for your help. You're a good friend."

Clarisse tried to brush it off, but her face did feel warm. "It was nothing."

"Whenever you need to head out, I can handle things here. I'll let them keep sleeping," Sally said.

Clarisse nodded, and stuck around for a bit more small talk. But when Sophia started crying again, Clarisse took that as her cue to leave.

~

Percy woke up sweaty and disoriented. He looked over and didn't see Sophia in the bassinet. Where was his baby? What time was it? Annabeth was asleep next to him. Should he wake her? No, let her sleep. Their infant couldn't have gotten far.

Hand on Riptide (pen version), he snuck out into the living room.

He relaxed when he saw his mom laying on the floor with Sophia, who was doing tummy time (and doing a pretty good job of it, if Percy said so).

"Ma?" He asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Memories of leaving Sophia with Clarisse came back to him then. "When'd you get here?"

"A few hours ago. Clarisse had to get her kids from camp," Sally explained.

"She called you?" Percy asked.

"No, we just both had the same sense that you and Annabeth needed a break," Sally explained. "How did you sleep?"

"Great," Percy said, "yeah, it was awesome. Is it tomorrow?"

"It's about seven at night," Sally said. "You got a good seven hours, give or take." That was the most sleep he'd gotten in weeks.

"Wow," was all he was able to say.

"How about I order us some pizza?" Sally offered.

"Olives for Annabeth," Percy said, still sleepy. He took his mom's spot on floor and laid in front of his daughter.

He still really couldn't believe she was real. Percy booped her nose, mostly just to have some reason to reassure himself that she was a real, physical person. Sophia wiggled a bit at his touch, and reached a hand out towards him, her little tongue sticking out between her lips.

There was the tiny creature on his floor, and she had his eyes. Percy reached his hand out, and let her wrap her fist around his finger. Her little feet started to kick behind her, happy, it seemed, to be literally wrapped around Percy's finger. There was this persistent heart-swelling sense of disbelief that he felt every time he looked at her for more than a few seconds. It was as if his mind couldn't quite put together that she was real.

"What got you to finally stop screaming?" Percy asked her.

"She was gassy," Sally said. "Clarisse said she got her to fart, and then there was a blow-out situation. And then she was fine."

"Huh," Percy said. "How'd she get her to fart."

"You have to help the baby move her hips," Sally said, tapping away at her phone to place the pizza order.

Percy picked up Sophia, who seemed relieved to be done with tummy time. Percy rested a hand on her chest, the other on her bum, and started to wiggle her hips.

"Shakira, Shakira," he mumbled to himself. "Yeah, those hips don't lie, do they?"

Sophia made a small noise that seemed affirmative, but Percy was pretty sure she wasn't making any actual intentional gestures or noises yet.

"Not like that," Sally said with a laugh, taking her granddaughter away from him and laying her on her back. She started to move Sophia's legs, pressing her knees up to her chest like she was in baby yoga. His mom must have done it right, because Sophia let out a big fart for such a tiny baby.

"It's just so cool to see her really taking after me, you know?" Percy said.

Sally smiled and ruffled his bed head.

"We'll need to wake up Annabeth soon," Sally said. "I'd love to let her sleep, but she'll need to breast feed."

Percy nodded. "I'll do that now, so she can eat when the food gets here."

He tried waking her up like a Disney princess, with true loves kiss. He got "no, fuck off, I'm tired," back.

"My love," Percy said, "I'm sorry, but --"

Before he could finish, Annabeth pulled herself up to sitting. "My boobs hurt. I know." She pulled herself out of bed with a groan. "What time is it?"

"Seven," Percy said.

He thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head. "In the morning?"

"No, no, at night! Same day! Clarisse watched Sophia for a while, and got her to stop crying --" Annabeth pouted, her pride obviously wounded. "--and now my mom's here. She ordered us some pizzas."

"Is Sophia okay?" Annabeth asked.

Percy nodded. "Just needed to fart apparently."

"Go figure," Annabeth said, heading towards their bathroom. "I'll be out to feed Sophia in a minute."

"I'll tell her," Percy promised. True to his word, when he got back to the living room, he scooped up his daughter and informed her: "Mommy will be out to feed you soon."

Sophia seemed to understand who mommy was, and wiggled at the mention of her. Percy could have sworn it was intentional. Sophia had a big brain. Well, a big head really. Percy's big head. At Sophia's first doctor's check up two weeks ago, the pediatrician had looked at Annabeth and said: "Usually if a baby's head was that large, we'd be worried and run tests. But looking at your husband, I can see it's just genetic." Annabeth had been laughing about it for weeks.

Percy had to assume Annabeth's big brain was in that big head. Sophia seemed so smart already.

A few minutes later, Annabeth stepped out. For as tired and abrasive as she'd been a moment ago, that seemed to all wash off her when she spotted her baby again.

"There's my girl!" Annabeth said, taking her from Percy. "Did you miss us? Yeah, is your tummy feeling better? I bet you're hungry, yeah, lets get you fed."

With Sophia settled, pizzas on the way, and his mom compulsively cleaning his kitchen (no matter how much he insisted she didn't have to), Percy texted Clarisse.

Percy Thanks for earlier. That was really cool of you. We appreciate it

Clarisse No worries. your kid's pretty cool. less annoying than either of you It takes a village though, seriously anytime, i'm happy to help

Percy looked around at his little family, and remembered the young girl who'd shoved spoonfuls of nectar into his mouth while asking him a confusing string of questions.

He thought about what it would be like to go back and tell twelve year-old him "Hey, one day, you're gonna have a baby with that girl."

He wondered what his 12 year-old self would say. "On purpose?" He guessed.

And yeah. He leaned over and kissed Annabeth's cheek. She smiled at him, caught off guard although not surprised by the sudden burst of physical affection. She just just a kissy face back, and waited for him to deliver a kiss to her lips. On purpose.

~

I've realized I'm no longer thought of as a too Clarisse la Rue fan blog, so that needs to change lmao

[giogio]

plss tell me everything you know about gnosticism and platonism in deltarune PLEASE I've played the last chapters nonstop and I KNOW therr is something in there that is somehow tied to gnosticism but I'm too dumb to put it into words. but I know it's there

okay yay im so glad you asked this but this is my very rough draft so don’t take as total gospel or my most fleshed out thinking on the topic but here is a general outline of what i have been thinking about deltarune thru the lens of platonic realism & gnostic philosophy

first let me establish platonic realism as a concept just so anybody reading can basically understand. plato’s theory of reality essentially posits that taking the material world or physical reality at face value is a false or insufficient method of seeing. anybody who’s been in high school should surely be aware of the allegory of the cave: what physical manifestations we see as real are/could be as misguided as those cave dwellers who see shadows cast by objects AS the objects themselves. plato favors the metaphysical idea of “forms” - what casts the false material shadow through its activity - as the thing which actually exists. these forms are “perfect” - justice and beauty are forms just as “apple” is - though material manifestations necessarily differ from one apple to the next. forms exist on another plane of reality than the material world, casting their shadows down. the world of forms is a perfect plane that humans can only seek to come to see in their minds. this i think has a clear connection to the very basic concept of dark worlds in deltarune: what we see in the material world does not and cannot capture the so-called essence of the form which exists on the other side of shadow. the objects existing in the false material world become darkners. the dark worlds representing the world of forms is strengthened too by the fact that eating has no effect: the world of forms is necessarily ageless and eternal as only an objective imitation of a form is capable of decay; if an apple rots it no longer faithfully replicates the Form of “Apple.” the parallel realities of deltarune are, i think, a clear evocation of platonic philosophy which makes a lot of sense seeing as homestuck is clearly a major inspiration for toby fox’s work and homestuck employs a lot of platonic philosophy AND is extremely reliant in its own mythology on gnosticism.

gnosticism is an early christian sect which too shares the philosophy of a division between the real and true world of forms - the “pleroma” occupied by here deified forms called “aeons,” who represent ideas - and the false material world, which causes humanity to suffer. in gnostic myth, a singular god - “monad” - passively emanated the world into existence, birthing the aeons. an aeon - sophia - desiring to create something apart from the monad, creates another god and in shame sends him away from their plane. this god is the flawed demiurge who has created our material world - a world he rules over as his own. without getting too deeply into the theology here, the path for a gnostic is to achieve “gnosis” - knowledge - and see beyond the false material reality. this is often likened in gnostic literature to escaping a cage or eggshell, only able to be born when seeing beyond a reality which seeks to keep you suffering in ignorance.

you could really come at this in a lot of different ways, and if anybody else has thought differently i would absolutely love to hear about it! but lately i have been thinking particularly of gaster as the monad which, through emanation, has created the world of deltarune and undertale. you could see the pleroma as the exterior box which holds both the light and dark worlds within - the client, the device, the bones of the game - where we know gaster is the intermediary and is seemingly trapped outside. for more on this check out device theory if you haven’t its awesome. under this approach to the theory, i have been super into the idea that noelle takes the place of sophia, by over-modding her copy of cat petterz and releasing friend, the demiurge, into the world. noelle's game-breaking seems to be very relevant to the plot and while we don’t know much about friend i think it is fair to suspect friend has an important role to play too. regardless of any particulars i think differentiated planes of truth and reality and the theme of being unknowingly trapped have been consistent enough to notice! pay special attention to the egg rooms: a forgotten man, one who cannot exist or speak within this world, hands kris an egg. as if to prompt them to see that there IS something that could be broken open. potentially the game itself?

and can you imagine if we had time to talk about gender????????

[tribalauthor]

Bridesmaid (roman × sophia one-shot)

A/N: hey guys, since I already wrote the love story about Roman and Sophia in The Wisewoman, I decided I will do one-shots of them from now on with specific themes.

Disclaimer: you don't need to read the fanfic in order to understand the contents of the one-shots, i'm gonna give decent background info but if you are up for some romance, why not check it out 👀

Warning: age difference, smutty

Summary: A week prior to Wrestlemania 40, Roman and Sophia get to enjoy their free time at the wedding of Cleo and Jeremiah - Sophia's friends.

word count: 3k

Sophia's POV

March 31st, 2024, 2.03pm

"We are gonna be late and I hate being late." I snapped at my boyfriend as if he is the one that's guilty for the current situation that's going on right now. Which is preparing for my best friend's wedding and I am going to be the bridesmaid.

The magic that happened between me and Joe on my birthday month and a half ago suddenly disappeared after the reality of work hit us. I've been working in WWE as a temporary Wise Woman while my uncle Paul's leg fully recovers.

It's not that I don't like working with Joe but this current Wrestlemania season is going to earn the most stressful one of all time. Triple H confirmed it himself.

Not knowing what the main event is going to be until almost the very last moment is a crazy work especially for a person like me who likes everything to be organized, in place and in the clear.

Eventually, Joe will main event both nights this year which is even more nuts. He also started doing very intense workout and diet programs, so he can get in the most perfect shape he can ever be.

Me, as his girlfriend, I follow him too, with the dieting more specifically. We basically eat chicken, brocoli and oats. That's it. Not even each other.

Although we are a new couple, peak of the honeymoon phase, we don't get the time to sex the stress away. The old Sophia wouldn't mind this since I was never in my full sexuality. Ever since I got with Joe, however, everything changed.

Everything.

"Soph, we have around an hour and Wave Hill is just 20 minutes away" Joe said with a calm tone. That's what he does - once I heat up he always keeps his cool and vice versa.

I took a good look at my boyfriend. His manbun more slick than himself. Beard freshly trimmed. A black suit with slim whige stripes which made his body look even bigger than usual. A baby pink tie which matches my dress for the wedding.

The dresses of the bridesmaids are picked by Cleo. Each bridesmaid is wearing different pastel color dress that symbolises her character and the fact that is spring time which means all the flowers are blooming and the nature is gaining its color.

Cleo chose baby pink for me since she describes me as delicate, elegant, feminine and lately, in love. If I wasn't with Joe, she would definitely give me blue aka the color of wisdom. But I take pink now.

"Did I mention that you look spectacular?" Joe looked at me from head to toe, gently grabbing my hand and I spun around.

"And I love when I see you with a suit. I admit it's my weakness." I marched to him and playfully fixed his tie. Our faces being very close, examining every inch of them, mostly focused on the lips.

After a while we both attacked each other going straight for our tongues, associating them with cheat meals we deserved. I put my hands behind Joe's neck while he wrapped his around my snatched waist.

The kisses were becoming hungrier and hungrier with each movement, almost leaving us out of breath.

"What if we-" I knew exactly that he is going to suggest us doing a quickie but right now I am way too stressed for that and I don't think it will bring the helpful effect we are both yearning for.

"No." I interrupted immediately. Joe gave that look which is a mix of slight disappointment with understanding.

"After the ceremony, however, I am yours. If you are not too tired, of course." I promised as we still stood with our faces close. He gave me a look that says 'Me? Tired?'.

"The most beautiful bride!" Tina, my other best friend from college, exclaimed the moment she saw Cleo, standing there with tight white dress that make her natural curves look even more juicy than usual.

Her brown skin all glowy, her beautiful curly hair made into a bride bun and most importantly her pearl white smile was on. Tina, who is three months pregnant by the way, is wearing a yellow dress since she is as bright as the sun. Somehow she looks even more angelic but that's what pregnancy does, I guess.

"Jeremiah is one lucky bastard." I concluded while looking at Cleo and then we reached for a hug. She smells like flowers. "Hope he is aware."

"Yeah, me too." Tina replied with her gaze stuck at the male part in front of us - her husband Noah, the groom, his friends all around my boyfriend like little boys just met their superhero.

Jeremiah has loved wrestling ever since he was a little kid and Roman has always been his favorite.

I let out a soft chuckle. Jeremiah was passionately explaining something to Joe, mimicking a superman punch and and a right hand. Probably talking about his favorite match of him.

"At least he is happy and not sweating his balls off like most men do before they get married." Cleo shrugged it off.

The whole ceremony of Cleo and Jer being wedded by the priest and their beautiful vows brought us waves of emotions. After that all the guests gathered to give our presents. Cleo didn't lie when she said it's gonna be a small wedding - closest family and friends. We were around forty people.

The atmosphere is just beyond magical - late afternoon with the sun still shining, soft bird chirps, the unrealistically green grass and beautiful flora surrounding us.

I cannot help but wonder how Joe must be feeling right now since he also had a wedding before. I've been trying to read him but all I see is positivism - no sign of bitterness or regret.

Me and him stepped hand-by-hand to the newlyweds and handed them a white envelope with beautifully written 'for the Evans family' on it.

Cleo knows very well what we prepared but both of them don't know we also prepared a honeymoon weekend for both of them in Philadelphia in The Rittenhouse hotel from April 5th to April 8th.

"I think you would want to open this." the bride nudged her groom. He seemed puzzled and looked at us for approval. Me and Joe gave a nod.

Jer opened the envelope and by the little glimpse he gave it, he surely recognized the Wrestlemania tickets. "No way." he interrupted the unpacking.

"Front row, both nights." I specified and Jer seemed extremely delighted. Just like a little kid. I understand why though. Cleo said that because of the expenses from the wedding, he couldn't afford tickets. I mean Wrestlemania isn't a cheap experience but right now as I am with the biggest draw in the business, it was easy to arrange this present.

"Also we booked The Rittenhouse hotel. A little Wrestlemania honeymoon weekend." Joe added and now both of them seemes surprised as hell. "Everything is covered."

"Oh my God" Cleo exclaimed and she hugged us. "Thank you so much."

"I'm actually gonna cry." Jer concluded and me and my boyfriend exploded from laughter.

"Make sure you spend your time well together and not only being focused on the wrestling, young man, okay?" Joe gave the groom a joking warning.

"Yes, my Tribal Chief." Jeremiah replied like a soldier.

"You are married to a baddie now and you better acknowledge her always." he was sounding like Roman but with the joking note of Joe. I gotta love that man but I slightly cringed from the fact he just said 'baddie'.

"Yes, my Tribal Chief." Jer repeated and Cleo just laughed at him.

"So whenever he fucks up, I will make sure to call Roman, noted." Cleo concluded.

The party eventually started - we were eating, drinking, laughing, throwing speeches. Me and Joe mentally prepared for today to be a cheat one. The menu Cleo and Jer picked is amazing and not that unhealthy, so we are gonna be good. Also we didn't miss the opportunity to drink an alcoholic glass or two...or three.

I was looking at the beautiful bouquet I caught earlier in the ceremony and bit my lower lip. Could that really mean I am next?

"Sophia Anoa'i sounds amazing, don't you think?" my boyfriend's deep voice startled me from my thoughts I was having in the same direction.

"Undisputed." I agreed with him and he pulled me to lean on his arm.

"To be completely honest, I already feel like we are a married couple. We fight for every small thing, we go everywhere together and we don't have exclusive sheet time." I raised my head and gave him a serious look. "Just the kids are missing."

"You are so dramatic." I rolled my eyes and leaned on his shoulder again. "We've been dating for two months, we don't officially live together and we don't fight, we just argue, nothing serious." I explained the things as they truly are. "But you are right about the sheet time." I said quietly.

"When Wrestlemania is over, immediately after night two, we are going on a vacation. I think it's time for you to see my private island. Just the two of us. We are gonna catch up with everything. I am keeping a track of the number of orgasms I have to give you." my eyes almost popped out of my body and I playfully hit his arm then looked around to see if somebody heard him.

Now it's time to dance. Big part of the guests went on the grass to dance. The women part even removed their heels and everybody started grooving to "The Best" by Tina Turner.

"Let's dance." I grabbed Joe's hand as he was drinking from his whiskey. In the meantime I took off my high heels.

He actually got up and drank the whole glass at once. As we marched to the grass, we faced each other.

"I am warning you I can't dance at all." he put his index finger in front of him and I just rolled my eyes grabbing his arms with mine and swaying to the beat.

"Just follow me." I instructed him.

Once that chorus hit, I started singing with it too.

'You're simply the best

Better than all the rest

Better than anyone

Anyone I ever met'

Such simple lyrics yet so relatable. Me and Joe were singing all of this to each other while doing some freestyle dancing. We probably look rather funny but I don't care. I am immersed in this beautiful moment we are having. It felt as if it's just only the two of us for a bit.

The night was accompanied with more dancing and singing. Jer even dedicated a song to Cleo and sang it for all of us and the song was 'Remember the Time' by Michael Jackson. I love this song and it describes them perfectly.

It kinda became a trend amongst the male part to dedicate songs to their loved ones and sing them. Noah dedicated 'Truly, Madly, Deeply' for Tina. Cleo's dad dedicated 'My Heart Will Go On' and oh boy, that was an experience. Jer's dad wanted to be funny and sang 'I Want To Break Free'. Basically all of the men had some songs in mind for their women but my question is does Joe have something for me?

I wonder what song he associates me with, if he has such.

Everybody started chanting "Tribal Chief" and he stood up from his chair and went to the stage, grabbing the microphone.

"I knew my turn was coming. But I have to throw a little disclaimer that I have no singing or artistic abilities since I am a pro-athlete, obviously." of course, he had to warn the people and explain himself.

"We still acknowledge you." one of the guests shouted and Joe put his one up.

"So I've been doing some thinking about a song I would dedicate to my dear Sophia who is the greatest woman alive, by the way." he threw that in as if it's nothing and looked at my direction. I playfully rolled my eyes and felt my cheeks burning. "The closest thing that came to my mind was the song 'Sweet Child O'Mine' by Guns n' Roses. And no, it's not because of our age difference." he was quick to specify.

The DJ played the song and the rock instrumental echoed through the night.

"If I see anybody recording me, I will do a superman punch to them." Joe threatened everyone and most of the people laughed it off.

'She's got eyes of the bluest skies

As if they thought of reign

I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain

Her hair reminds me of a warm, safe place

Where, as a child, I'd hide

And pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by'

Joe just changed one word in the lyrics and brought a whole different meaning to it. I was giggling the whole time and I could feel my friends playfully hitting my arm and throwing jokes. He is such a liar, too. His singing voice sounds more than decent for a damn wrestler.

Of course, he is singing the song in tenor cause there is no way he can do Axl's high pitches. If he were to be a singer, he'd probably do jazz. Completely changing the vibes of it but in the best way possible. This is just so romantic, no pun intended. No one has ever done something like this for me. He actually did many things for me that others didn't.

That's why he is simply the best.

It's already past midnight. The wedding came to its end. I genuinely wished to Cleo and Jer their whole marriage to feel like their wedding cause goddamn, it's been a good while since I had such a great time.

When me and Joe got back in his house, we still had the tipsy spirit in us. I really wanted to take the pretty dress off and feel free. I see my boyfriend already started loosening the buttons of his shirt and pants. When he saw me struggling with my dress, he came to help me unzip it and it fell down on the ground, exposing my bare breasts and the lingerie with the same tone of pink.

I felt Joe pulling me in closer, so I can feel his big body against me. His hands cupped my breasts, almost like I put a bra on and then gave me a few wet kisses on the neck.

"Babygirl, you promised something earlier." he reminded me with his voice low and seductive, sending chills all over my body as he continued kissing my neck and squeezing my boobs harder.

"Mm." I moaned in agreement and I felt him taking my panties off from behind. "I'm all yours." I breathed out and turned to him, so we could kiss each other's lips. His taste like whiskey while mine - like white wine. We are inventing a new cocktail as we speak.

To my surprise, I managed to push him on the bed. I unzipped his white dress shirt, letting his beautiful upper body exposed, and half of his unique tattoo out.

I also slid down his unzipped pants and lossen belt. Couldn't help but stare at the view from his already formed erection.

"Already?" my jaw slightly dropped. Either I am a sex symbol in disguise or Joe will always be erectile functional...way too functional. Eventually, I took the boxers off, too before they get ripped by his own length.

"Already." he replied quietly. He stood in a sitting position at the corner of his king-sized bed while I was still standing. Joe ran his big hands, gently examining and admiring my body.

I felt the wetness forming down my core, so I didn't wait any longer and slowly sat on his dick, carefully taking it in.

Both of us were a groaning mess. Me because I still haven't fully adjusted to that monstrous length and Joe because the tightness must feel beyond incredible for him.

I was taking deep breaths until the awesomly painful entrance to feel like a strong embrace.

"I missed this so much" I released a breathy moan, collecting my composure and sligtlg fastening my pace of riding.

Up.

Down.

"Not more than me, I believe." Joe replied and we exchanged a kiss. He firmly gripped my hips and our bodies were stuck to each other like a glue and exchanging heat waves like radiators.

Up.

Down.

Joe let out a loud groan again. I know I must be killing him with this technique mixed with clutching. I've been attending some yoga classes lately and there was one about riding a man. The words of the teacher that we should make it like a dance, and the focus is the hips still echo in my mind.

I was certain I was gonna try this on him and judging by his reactions, he enjoys it and I haven't even fastened the pace...yet.

As I moved more quickly, the sounds of clapping spread through the room. Joe's breathing intensified as well as my moans because that shit feels truly magnificent.

"Babygirl..." he finally spoke. He is usually very, very talkative in the bedroom but this time he is rather silent and I think this may be a good sign.

The volcano of cum that just erupted in my insides confirmed it for me that he loved this and just a bit after that, I also exploded in pleasure, my sounds filling the whole mansion most definitely just how Joe is filling me up.

This dick may be a little too big for me but it for sure hits the spot every single time.

My man let out another groan and pulled us both down on the bed, so we could lay. With his dick still in me. We love to do this after we finish and not to pull it out immediately.

"Where did you learn all that?" he seemed genuinely shocked. I let out a chuckle and fixed a strand of his already loosened hair.

"Those yoga classes turned out to be more enriching than I foresaw." I replied.

"This is dangerous. You are dangerous. I barely could control myself. I wanted to extend the experience but good God, you are stronger than me." he concluded and looked slightly terrified. I, of course, enjoyed his little breakdown he was having.

"Is this funny to you, Miss Heyman?" Joe's eyebrows furrowed and I swear I could see a glimpse of Roman. I bursted out laughing. "Okay, have your fun but get ready for round two." he just threatened me with a good time.

THE END.