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mixtape-racha · 8 months

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enough for you | poly!ot8 (9th member reader)

dating the members of your band was both a blessing and a curse... especially when you had to hide your changes in behaviour from them

words: 3.21k // warnings: established relationship, poly!skz x reader, reader is put on a diet and workout plan, lack of eating, reader takens caffeine pills, overworking, overexercising, reader passes out, the boys get angry (not at reader)

a/n: i am NOT trying to glorify undereating and/or overworking yourself in ANY way, but if you struggle with food-related topics or suffer from an ED please do not read this fic as i don't want to trigger you in any way // based on this request

you bowed your head with a small - and extremely undeserving - smile as you said your goodbyes to the staff and left your meeting. solo meetings with the staff at jype were always worrying, but this time you wished you had forced one of the boys to come with you.

you had a huge year ahead of you; your comeback being one of the most anticipated of the year on twitter, before your japanese comeback, and then further embarking on a tour. really, you and the boys were enjoying all the free time you had before the workload became overbearing - which none of you could deny it was, despite how much you loved your jobs.

but to then be sat down and given a whole new diet and gym plan? on top of everything else, it was…. hurtful. you were always a little self-conscious of your weight - being the only girl in a group with 8 boys, anything you did or changed stuck out like a sore thumb. but as far as you knew, you were fine. your weight had sat steady since the last comeback, and you were always careful with what you ate and how you worked out.

shaking it off as your manager put a comforting hand on your arm and helped you out of the building to your awaiting car, you assumed that something had changed if the company felt they had to step in. you just hoped the boys hadn’t noticed, and if they had they weren’t talking about it behind your back.

it was a silly thing to worry about, obviously. your boys only ever wanted what was best for you, and you knew that. merely 2 years after your debut, you had all begun understanding each other on a deeper level, and - under chan’s demand - very, very slowly it led to romantic connections establishing between you all. and now here you are, in one of the biggest kpop groups in the world, working and living and thriving with your 8 boyfriends in one harmonious polycule.

during the drive back to the dorm, your manager was kind enough to let you brood in your silence - he understood all too well that you were bombarded with a lot of information to process during the meeting, especially when your small hands started flicking through the folder you were given. a strict meal plan - every meal and snack planned out to the last gram with no room to move. an exact workout guide - how on earth you were going to do this without changbin noticing something was up in the gym, you had no clue. you just prayed that their busy schedules leading up to comeback season were enough for you to keep this from them - the last thing they needed right now was to worry about you too.

when you finally arrived back at the dorm, you were instantly wrapped into a tight hug by a pouting jisung. you giggled softly as he complained about losing mario kart to felix - again - and how he owed jeongin $100 because felix beat seungmin too. he kept mumbling his complaints into your neck as you waddled to the living room, the sight of the maknae line bickering and throwing popcorn at each other being a wholesome and beautiful sight to come home to.

jisung finally released you from his hold, allowing you to squeeze yourself onto the couch between seungmin and jeongin, the latter instantly throwing an arm around your shoulders as seungmin looked over at you, a smile painted on his lips.

“how did the meeting go? we were trying to figure out why they’d call a solo meeting with you, but none of us worked it out.” he asked softly, planting a chaste kiss on your cheek before handing his controller back over to jisung. you weren’t entirely sure how to respond, thinking of an excuse on the spot.

“oh, yeah it went fine. they were just checking what parts of the comeback schedules lined up with my period - after last comeback, they want to try and make that week as easy as possible for me.” you shrugged, knowing the boys wouldn’t ask more questions when it came to that time of the month.

its not like they were disgusted or anything. in fact, they were the most helpful and understanding boyfriends you could ask for. they just never pried, never dug for more information than you seemed comfortable with sharing, and you were grateful for that. especially as you lied. if they asked questions, you were sure you would crumble and tell them the truth. for now, it was just easier to ignore it and join them playing video games.

dinner time that night was your first exceptional challenge. after studying your diet plan in your bedroom, it was suggested that you have a vegetable salad with plain chicken breast and a small portion of sweet potato. it seemed boring and bland, especially with the other meals you were expected to follow. usually, you would follow the boys around the kitchen and see what they were having for dinner - then helping one of them make a larger portion so you could share and eat together. it was so normalized at this point, you’d typically get asked teasingly which member’s meal you’d be planning to hijack that night.

so, of course, when you headed to the kitchen silently and began preparing a completely different meal, a few eyebrows were raised, although thankfully no one asked any questions. they just simply assumed you had a specific craving that night that you wanted to indulge in. truthfully, as much as you wanted to eat your meal in the company of your boyfriends, discussing your days and giggling together, you were deeply embarrassed by the fact the company had put you on your diet plan. so regretfully, you skulked back into your bedroom with your dismal meal and ate in the comfort of your bed with a disney movie playing in the background.

the next morning, you woke yourself up at what felt like the ass-crack of dawn to head down to the company gym. you stuffed everything you’d need for the day into a backpack, silently leaving the door and enjoying the quiet of the early morning during your walk to the company building. the lack of noise and movement in the world was nice, feeling like it had washed away all of your worries almost instantly. every time you saw a stray cat, or a funny street sign, you’d snap a picture to send to your group chat with the boys.

you allowed yourself to send a couple of animal pictures to the chat, assuming the boys would be asleep, and when they woke, wouldn’t notice or question the times that you had sent the pictures. of course, that was a misjudgement on your part, because when the hell did chan ever sleep? as you approached the gym doors, your phone dinged and your heart squeezed at his message.

lying to your boyfriends in any way made you feel sick to your stomach, but deep down you just didn’t want them worrying about you. luckily, your workout went relatively easily - you were quite active and partook in gym activity frequently so it was simply like a higher intensity session for you.

after you had showered and left the gym, you headed down to the company cafeteria for breakfast. your meal plan stated that your breakfast for the day should be a small portion of mandu dumplings and a pineapple and kale smoothie. you savored the food as much as you could with each bite, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get a chance to eat again until the later evening. your schedule was packed, practices upon practices before your evening workout, and as much as you loved your job, you knew wholeheartedly how much the company liked to overwork you leading up to comeback season.

practice seemed to drag that day, your vocal teacher questioning if you were feeling unwell because your energy just seemed completely off during your session together. you shrugged her off, insisting you were just tired, but in reality you were overthinking every single moment of the day. between the lack of food, and ache from overworking yourself in the gym that morning, you just felt exhausted - both physically and mentally.

after you finished all your scheduled plans for the day, you decided to head to the company cafeteria for dinner - it was easier than going home and then heading back out to the gym, in all honesty. you tried your hardest not to finish your allocated meal, thinking if you left food on your plate that you’d feel more accomplished. however, as soon as you got to the gym and began your evening workout, you knew leaving food was a bad idea. nonetheless, you pushed through the achy joints and growling stomach, even beating your current personal best on the stairmaster before you ended your session.

the stress of needing to be a certain weight before your next solo meeting before the comeback had you stressed and pushing yourself harder than you should, so you opted to walk back to the dorms that night rather than calling a car. the next few days were similar - the ache, and fatigue, and sick feeling in the pit of your stomach as you forced yourself into work. staying at the company later, working out at any free time you had, sleeping as soon as you got home without even acknowledging the boys you shared a dorm with. they had slowly started noticing, of course, but it wasn’t until exactly a week after your meeting that things all came to a head.

you had finally noticed in the mirror that morning that you had lost weight - your clothes weren’t fitting how they usually did, and you weren’t even hungry most of the day. the gym had become your best friend, and working out had become so much easier. sure, the fatigue and lightheadedness was slightly concerning, but in your opinion it was worth it to keep your job.

that day, you were scheduled to have a whole-group dance practice in the evening before you all headed home, which the boys were excited for because it meant they could travel home with you for the first time in a week straight. you, on the other hand, were slightly annoyed you couldn’t just sneak off to the gym or make an excuse to stay at the company longer. that day you’d opted to skip breakfast - the idea of eating before a day of work making you nauseous - and instead had chugged an energy drink and some caffeine pills along with your morning vitamins. work was boring, and all day you were itching to just up and head to the gym, or just go on a long walk, but you couldn’t. you were stuck between rooms in the company, and it was honestly stressing you out.

by the time it got to the evening, and you and the boys all met up for dance practice, you were instantly scooped into a hug by hyunjin, giggling as his hair tickled your skin.

“finally! missed you so much, pretty girl. feels like i haven’t seen you for more than 30 seconds lately.” he mumbled against the skin of your neck, the sensation making you shiver.

“don’t be silly, hyun,” you grinned as you pulled away to help him tie his hair into a ponytail. “i’m right here now, not going anywhere.”

practice started pretty quickly after that, considering jisung was running late after vocal lessons, and you quickly realized that not eating that day may not have been your best idea. the haste of your movements had your head spinning more than usual, and you felt like you were tripping over your own feet every two seconds. you couldn’t sworn you were moving in slow motion with everything around you sped up, and no matter how much you tried to shake the feelings off, it wouldn’t leave.

you stepped forward through a wave of your boyfriends, fighting to keep your eyes ahead and complete your center dance for the bridge in the song, but it was to no avail. your heart thudded and you internally cried as you felt your body collapse to the ground, black dots circling your vision and your ears ringing loudly.

the thud your body hit the ground with was sickening to the boys who looked on, minho rushing over to try and catch you since he was the closest. they were fast to carry you to the couch in the corner on the practice room, seungmin practically sprinting out of the room to get you cold water and ice from the cooler in the hallway. of course, they knew you had been acting strange, but they never realized it was something so big or detrimental to your health - both physical and mental.

“she feels lighter… god, how did we not notice she’s lost so much weight?” felix practically wailed, his eyes brimming with tears at the sight of you sickly pale and unconscious in his arms.

“when was the last time someone saw her eat?” changbin quizzed, his frown only growing as jeongin piped up.

“forget that for now, when was the last time she had a drink?”

seungmin had reentered the room by that point, a cup of ice and a separate cup of water in each hand. felix had his hands in your hair, fingers tangled between the locks as he stroked your head soothingly. chan had crouched in front of you, cupping your cheek and softly rubbing the skin with his thumb in an effort to gently wake you up.

when consciousness did finally grace you again, you groaned. your head was pounding and you felt gross, and sticky. you tried to sit up, surprised when felix pulled you back down to lean on him from behind you. it was only then that you looked around and took in the worried faces of your boyfriends and bandmates, instantly flushing red in shame that you disrupted practice.

“i’m so sorry–” was all that managed to escape your lips before seungmin held out the cup of water in front of you, swiftly cutting you off.

“drink. we’ve got ice, too, and jisung has a protein bar in his bag that you’re eating, okay?”

you blanched at his words, sipping the water while carefully trying to decide your next words.

“i appreciate it, but i’m fine. i don’t need to wait, i just need some water and i’ll be fine.”

yeah, that sounded good in your head. not too many details, but enough for them to hopefully drop it - at least, you hoped. but unfortunately, the universe didn’t want to work in your favor that day, as you eyes fell on chan and his worried - but stern - face.

“(y/n)...” he started, and your heart dropped at how exhausted and scared he sounded. “what’s going on? when’s the last time you ate? and don’t lie to me, please.”

you sighed, looking around the room and accepting that the game was up. you just hoped they would understand, and they wouldn’t be mad at you. it was bad enough that disrupted practice, you couldn’t handle your boys being disappointed with you too.

“i…” even just looking around the room at the scared faces of your boyfriends, all ideas of lying slipped away from you. “yesterday lunch time. i had a chicken salad…”

you looked at the floor, too scared to face their disappointed stares as you felt felix’s hand shift from your hair to your shoulder. tears were welling under your eyelids no matter how hard you tried to blink them away, and you knew you couldn’t keep it a secret anymore.

“love,” changbin asked softly for his position on the floor next to chan. “is this why you’ve been going to the gym so much? why are you doing this to yourself?”

you shook your head unable to reply, as you felt chan’s hand on your knee.

“we’re just worried, pretty girl. ther’s no need for you to be doing this to yourself, you know that, right?”

you couldn’t help the way you groaned loudly, all your recent frustration pouring out in that moment. it was like a dam had broken, and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“it’s not me! i don’t want this. it hurts and it sucks. it’s– it’s not me.”

“can you elaborate, angel?” felix asked softly, his breath tickling your ear from his proximity to you.

“it’s…” you sighed, knowing that if you didn’t tell them now, then you never would. “it’s the company. that meeting, last week i– they gave me a diet plan. told me i needed to lose weight before the comeback. i just didn’t want to let anyone down…”

your voice slowly trailed off as you gained the confidence to look up, meeting the distraught expressions of your boyfriends. shock, disgust… anger…. you weren’t sure what scared you more in that moment. really, you tuned out everything that was going on around you, sipping your water in hopes of combatting the thudding in your head.

it was only when jeongin crouched in front of you with his signature smile plastered on his lips that you came back to reality. he hed out his hands to you, helping you stand, as everyone packed their belongings up.

“we’re gonna head home, okay? order in some food and have a movie night, if you want that?”

your eyes leaked again at their concern, the group of you leaving the practice room and headed down to the company lobby. “i’d love that, innie… but where are chan and minho going? aren’t they coming home with us?”

he shook his head as the rest of the members, along with yourself, headed out to the cars waiting for you outside the building.

“they’ll be right home - they’re just going to talk to the staff… make some ‘arrangements’, as channie-hyung worded it.”

you were too tired and mentally exhausted to ask any further questions, allowing the boys to bundle you into the car without a fight. when you finally got back to the dorm, felix and jeongin helped you shower, before you met changbin in the bedroom to help you get dried and dressed for bed.

by the time you got back into the living room, chan and minho had arrived home, but they wouldn’t answer any of your questions - opting to give you the television remote instead as they placed bags of takeout food onto the coffee table.

and thats how you spent the night; curled up on the couch with your favourite boys, enjoying takeout and watching movies. it was perfect, and you couldn’t believe you allowed the words of staff members to take this feeling away from you.

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oh, and you later found out chan and minho had gone into a meeting room all guns blazing, threatening to sue if the company risked your health the way they did ever again. you were never put on another diet plan after that, and used your experience to speak out about the mistreatment of idols due to unobtainable beauty standards. life was good.

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @4evrglow @skz-streamer @crybabyychu @demetrisscarf

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stcverogers · 1 year

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TOP GUN FIC RECS 5!

top gun fics that i’ve been reading and obsessing with over recently

this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.

F: fluff A: angst S: smut

𖥻 - series /multi part

masterlist

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN

F + A: the longer that you stay, the ice is melting by @welcome-to-my-multiverse you have walls built around yourself from the hurt you had experiences in the past. jake breaks them all down.

F: dinner and domesticity by @sehnsuchts-trunken all you want after a long day at work is to spend time with jake.

F: sunshine by @call-sign-jinx you're jake's biggest secret in the best way possible.

F + A: abs sans brain by @sometimes-i-write-good you would think that the amount of time jake spends with his work friends that he'd rather spend date night with you alone

F + A: don't make the same mistake by @agentrose17 jacob seresin is a coward. to save himself the heartbreak, he runs.

F: the doll house by @honeybeedewdrops jake flew million dollar jets for a living and still couldn't build a barbie dreamhouse

A: a glimpse of us by @call-sign-jinx jake will forever be haunted by what happened years ago

F + A: who are you? + part 2 by @thewulf you move to fightertown in hopes of comfort from you aunt penny after you and your fiance break it off. in a sea full of naval aviators, you meet jake.

F: i caught you by @roosterbruiser jake will always be there to catch you

F + A: mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys) by @almostgenerallyalways you and jake have long broken up. he tries to reconnect every holiday season but you choose to ignore him. you can't quite do that when he's at your front door.

F + A: sleepy baby by @discount-shades 𖥻 if i weren't for you therapist, there was no way you'd be out late at night in a bar.

F + A: rescued + part 2 by @topgunslut you nearly drown by the beach but jake saves you

F: even if you lose it, it will find you by @lovestruckdeans though you and jake may have gone your seperate ways, you find your way back to each other.

A: what are we? by @andorskenobi four months of stringing you along and you were tired of it. you give jake an ultimatum.

F + A: perfect storms by @captainamericasmotercycle jake loves you because you're you. not because you're the admiral's daughter or whatever coyote wants to make you believe.

S: jealousy, jealousy by @seresinsbabe jealous of him and his coworker, you decide that it was your turn to make jake jealous.

F + A: i see myself with you by @penwieldingdreamer you meet jake again, this time, he dons a khaki uniform.

F: boyfriend material by @beautifultypewriter you and jake had a thing. if you were on a bad date, you'd text him and he'd show up, sweeping you away.

F: roadside assistance by @lostdreamr-blog1 your car breaks down in the middle of the road and you have no choice but to call your last resort for help.

F + A: it only feels this raw right now by @teamhappyme your time with the navy has come to an end while yours with jake is only beginning.

F: sittin' on the dock of the bay by @theloveoftoms a day on the beach with jake seresin.

F: brave by @arson-tm you are the only person jake shows his true self to.

F: your carriage awaits, sweets by @lazypeachsoul jake loved you so much. so much so that he'd willingly carry you home when you're drunk off your mind.

F: coffee for mrs. seresin? by @birdy-bat-writes jake orders your coffee for you. when your order is called, you're utterly surprised.

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW

F: pretty in pink by @roostersforevergirl if rooster wants to join his daughter's tea party, he must dress the part.

F + A: the parent trap by @averagewriter-inthedark you and rooster crashed and burn. despite the relationship ending, something beautiful bloomed from it. in a mutual agreement, one will grow up with you while the other rooster.

F: hold my hand by @wannabeschyulersister it's mav and penny's birthday. you somehow find yourself riding a mechanical bull.

F: bradley and the bump by @justmyheart bradley lets his girl know how much he loves his other girl.

F: beautiful by @eyesthatroll you can see glimpses of carole in bradley

F: mary's song by @risriswrites bradley bradshaw is hopelessly in love with his best friend. if only she felt the same.

F: i'm obsessed with you by @simpforrooster jake can't bear to see rooster pine over you for a single second longer

A: till death? by @cherrycola27 you meant what you said in your wedding vows that you'd love bradley till death do you part.

F: my reward by @susanripper rooster doesn't know how to tie a tie. now, you can't let that happen can you?

F: picture in my pocket by @worldofheroes if there's anyone who would understand what you feel, it's rooster

F: a little pinch by @tongue-like-a-razor it's time for your daughter to have her shots but it seems like rooster is more nervous than she is

A: trainwreck by @callsign-cree you knew that you and rooster were too good to true. it was time you finally confirmed it.

S: short stack by @spacecaravan something about you making him breakfast makes rooster insatiable for you.

S: return the favor by @sonofarathorn being a dad was a good look on bradley.

F: beautiful boy by @aestheticpearl baby bradshaw has a nightmare, something bradley can relate to too well.

F: i'm goin' for a run by @feralforfrank rooster wants to say goodbye before going on his run

F: a wedding to remember and a proposal to come by @sehnsuchts-trunken during mav and penny's wedding, you and rooster realise that maybe a wedding of your own was in the cards.

ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD

F: baby. on. board by @mymamalife baby on board has his own baby on board

F + A: one beer + just another day in paradise by @lgg5989 having a baby at a young age was not part of yours and bob's plans.

F: do we have to? by @auroradawnwrites unlike bob, all you want to do is stay home.

JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO

F: in which it’s far too cold for your liking, but Javy can think of a few ways to warm up by @spidervee

F: the waiting by @rae-gar-targaryen javy knows that you're more than capable of doing things yourself but can't he just pamper his pregnant wife in peace?

F: cancelled flights and beignets by @siempre-bucky javy's flight home is cancelled. you make beignets to cure some of his homesickness.

F: the first 'i love you' by @demxters you didn't need javy to tell you he loved you for you to know that he did. so when he finally said those three words, you weren't surprised.

NICHOLAS 'GOOSE' BRADSHAW

F: you know why by @thewhiskersonkittens it didn't matter that you had a jerk of an ex, goose proves that he's twice the man he could ever be

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genericpuff · 4 months

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It doesn't get mentioned a lot...

... but remember that scene in S1 depicting Eros and Psyche having sex in a very SFW but plainly obvious and intimate way?

Like it's so simple, the characters aren't colored in, the final illustration is basically just H x P sketches with watercolor thrown on top, and yet it's 10x more dynamic and intimate and beautiful than anything we've gotten in the last 2 seasons of LO. Seriously, how is this scene of Eros and Psyche somehow more impactful and intimate than the literal WEDDING NIGHT between Hades and Persephone?

Like, seriously, what happened here? They spent twice as much time on the H x P wedding night scene as the Eros x Psyche scene and yet it accomplished jack shit compared to the former. Did Webtoons get a lot more strict in what Rachel was allowed to depict? It still got the YA rating anyways so I don't understand why she couldn't give H x P's long awaited wedding night even a fraction of the same warmth and intimacy that Eros and Psyche got. By comparison the H x P wedding night feels clinical and lifeless - like the crime scene of a murder - and I don't know how we got to this point.

This is why people are constantly meme'ing on LO's writing with jokes about how it's been replaced by a ChatGPT bot, or that at some point during LO's development Rachel got replaced by an alien who doesn't know how humans talk. There used to be actual emotion and tension behind the characters' words and how they talked to each other. Now it feels like they're just plainly reading off a script that's trying WAY harder than it should be to sound 'deep' and it's ironically making it sound worse compared to the first season that had simpler - but way more meaningful and human - dialogue.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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bitchlessdino · 3 months

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Would you like a receipt? Pt. 1

In Valentines collaboration with @svthub hosted by my wifey @wongyuseokie, pt 2 out now! Pairing: Childhood bf!junhui x working class gn!reader Genre: fluff, slight angst, slice of life Word count: 2.9k tags: second chances, exes to ???, childhood friend/boyfriend!junhui, spontaneous dates, misunderstandings, smut in part 2!!! Summary: Coming across a grade school ex-boyfriend while you worked a shitty seasonal job around Valentines was not in your 2024 bingo card. author note: to sweet mio at @skyechild i apologize in advance for making you wait for the second half. I promise it'll be worth the wait. but yes! i am your one and only cupid. I hope you enjoy what i have so far. And to answer your ask, idk if i have a favorite thing about myself? Maybe it's the constant desire to look for new things to improve on or my attitude in trying new things? What i look for other people is pretty simple tho. That would be ease. I'd like if someone felt comfortable with me and vice versa. if i can make someone's day by making them laugh or just existing then that would be great. happy valentines day mio! From yours Truly, Cupid💘

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic

Valentine's Day has always been a bit of a hit or miss for you. The last time you remember eagerly anticipating the holiday was back in high school. Since then, the allure of celebrating love and romance seemed to fade away, as you realized that not everything in the world is adorned in shades of pink and red. Valentine's Day became a luxury, a whimsical indulgence that felt distant and impractical for someone navigating a world that often left little room for such extravagances. Life, for you, was a series of tasks, responsibilities, and the constant juggling act of making ends meet.

From the time you were in high school, you entered the realm of adulthood, where dreams sometimes took a backseat to the more immediate needs of providing for your family. The dreams you put on hold lingered in the recesses of your mind, awaiting their turn to be fulfilled. Working tirelessly, you made sacrifices, dedicating yourself to a job that demanded your energy and time. Despite the challenges, you pressed on, ensuring the well-being of your family, who toiled alongside you, if not even harder.

Now, as an adult working a part-time job that offers a slightly better paycheck than your previous one, you’ve grown used to the matter. While the financial gains may not be monumental, every improvement counts, especially when compared to the downfalls of your previous workplace.

Amidst the whirlwind of your daily hustle, Valentine's Day transforms into a distant echo of the past–a time when celebrations were carefree and seemingly attainable. However, for you, navigating the world feels akin to maneuvering on an almost empty tank. In this moment, mere existence becomes a means to sustain yourself.

“Is this a gift? If so, would you like it to be gift-wrapped for you?”

The middle-aged man raises an eyebrow, smacking that mint gum that doesn’t seem to mask his nicotine-coated breath. “Is it extra?”

“It’s two dollars extra.”

Usually, you’d really sell the idea that the highest premium quality wrapping paper would be used to then be topped off with a satin ribbon that truly pulls it all together, but for such a customer, you know you’d be wasting your breath.

He scoffs, snatching the bag off the counter. “Are you trying to scam me? Fuck that shit.”

You let a sigh of relief slip past your lips the moment he made his way out the sliding door, muttering to yourself about the smell. You reach down for your Powerade hidden on a bottom shelf of the counter you stand behind, hoping this supposed ‘power’ would relinquish itself to you for another long shift.

It’s the day before Valentine's Day, which means the rush has become a regular occurrence since about a week ago. The store is bursting with vibrant displays of flowers, stuffed animals clutching oversized lollipops, and decadent heart-shaped boxes of chocolates. Not such a bad gig if you look at it.

However, the true predicament lies in the presence of aggressive customers, drawn to discounts like magnets. They're all about grabbing anything and everything that's on sale, making things more complicated than they need to be. It's like they're trying to see how far they can push things and make your day even crazier. Dealing with them adds an extra layer of chaos to the already busy scene as if you haven’t lost faith in humanity enough.

“I bought this yesterday and it’s DIGUSTING! I want a full refund and extra compensation for my time and taste buds being wasted on this disgusting excuse of a candy.”

Popping open the box revealed a sorry sight–almost half the candies were missing as if they'd gone on a little taste adventure without an invite. The poor box looked like it had been through a candy apocalypse, so messed up that I couldn't even be sure if it originally belonged to our store.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry you're dissatisfied with our products. However, because the box is so damaged and half of the contents have been consumed we cannot accept this return,” you respond in your most polite service voice.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Where the hell is your manager? The customer is always right!”

At last, a wave of relief crashes over you like a superhero arriving just in the nick of time during closing hours. The once bustling crowd has dwindled, allowing you to begin the task of rearranging items and securing the cash register, signaling the imminent conclusion of yet another busy day.

Just when you're on the verge of clocking out and calling it a day, a sudden interruption unfolds at the entrance. A lone figure materializes outside, softly tapping on the glass as if pleading to be granted entry.

"Please," his voice is all muffled through the glass, "I know you're about to close, but pretty please! I just need to grab something real quick. I already know exactly what I need!"

It’s not every day you see a man of his looks and caliber beg to be given access to a candy store as if he were a determined child. There's this undeniable air of urgency about him–as if he’d die if we didn’t get what he needed–but it doesn't overshadow his perfectly proportioned features that illuminate under the evening street lights. Ultimately, you decide to approach the door, swiftly undoing the top lock of the door and allowing him inside.

He expresses his gratitude with a grateful clasp of his hands, swiftly navigating through the inventory to grab what he urgently needs. Returning to the counter, you initiate the process of unraveling the closing procedures, all the while fervently hoping that no one else decides to join the stranger in last minute browsing.

"Sorry," he apologizes as he drops his items on the counter: several heart-shaped boxes and a bear clutching a mini Mylar balloon that shouts 'I love you,' with a small box of chocolates in its other paw. A classic and popular choice.

“That’s a lot of chocolate. Big family?”

He shakes his head, "Nah, these are for a company thing. I've been busting my butt for weeks, and the one simple task I get, I can't even manage it until the last minute."

"Got it. And the bear? Picking up a last-minute surprise for your girlfriend too?"

A slightly offended look crosses his face. "Oh, if I had a girlfriend, I’d do way more than make up my tardiness with a teddy bear.” He holds the fluffy creature in his hand, “This is just for my mom. So, if you ever spot a lady with my face and long hair, please, keep it on the down-low."

You chuckle softly, bagging up his purchases. "I'll remember that. Cash or credit?"

He extends his hand, revealing his credit card with his full name on display. As you sound out the name in your head, it strikes you as unique yet oddly familiar. You run the card through the machine, unaware that the customer is squinting at you, also trying to place where he might know you from.

"Hey, have we met before? You seem really familiar," he questions.

"Uh, not sure, but your name does ring a bell," you reply as you hand the card back. "Haven't come across too many Wen Junhuis."

"Wait, how do you know my name?" he questions.

"Well, it's on your credit card, sir," You respond with straightforward precision.

"True, but no one has picked it up as quickly and accurately as you did. Maybe we do know each other."

You shrug. "Maybe so. I think the last time I heard a name like that was back in elementary school. A classmate maybe."

"Hold on, you couldn't be Y/n, right?" he questions, his eyes widening with realization.

You take a brief pause to grasp the implication, acknowledging it with a nod. "Been a long time coming, hasn't it?"

His smile widened across his cheeks, evoking memories of a similar grin on a boy more than half his age. "Yeah. Well, I be damned. I'm surprised you remember my name."

"It's pretty distinctive; I'm surprised you remember mine."

He scoffs. "You are a core memory, thank you very much. One of the nicest and coolest people in our grade. God, remember our first Valentines?"

"Yes," you softly chuckle, the memories of childhood innocence flooding back. "I begged my mom to get these really nice scented Valentine cards to give to the class."

"And you gave me the lemon one because I love lemons, and I gave you one of the hologram cards of a cat that smiles when you flip it on its side."

"I was so excited to show my sister, and I just know she was so jealous."

"Yeah, where did the time go?" he sighs, his smile turning wistful on his lips.

You shake your head, still smiling from the unexpected trip down memory lane, and finally, hand off his gifts back to him. "Would you like a receipt?"

"No, I'm good. So,” He leans over the counter curiously, “What are you doing this Valentine's?"

"Working the day. I'll probably just grab takeout for dinner and head home. You?"

"It's a workday,” he says proceeding to grab his things. “So most of the day is spent in the office. But, I'm free the rest of the evening…would it be weird if I asked you out for Valentine's Day?" he nervously proposes.

You raise an eyebrow, slightly taken aback but intrigued. "You want me to be your Valentine?"

"Couldn't hurt," he nonchalantly shrugged, a wry grin playing on his lips. Then, as if a light bulb flickered to life above his head, an idea dawned on him, sparking mischief in his eyes.

"Unless you've got a 200-pound, all-muscle boyfriend ready to beat my ass," he quips, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. The words linger in the air, forming a playful challenge and a subtle admission that, just maybe, he wasn't entirely impervious to consequences.

It harks back to a past altercation, one of those rare 'couple quarrels' you had. The promise was made in jest—that you'd leave him if he ever pulled on your hair again, and he'd have to face a burly 200-pound muscle man. Though uttered in humor with no evidence of said muscle man, it struck a chord of genuine concern in his little boy heart, and he kept that promise until the end of your relationship. The memory lingered, manifesting now in an unmistakable charm, a blend of audacity, bravado, and humor that fills the air with laughter and unadulterated ease.

You chuckle. “Lucikly, I don’t, but I don’t know you. Who knows what kind of person you, or I, have become in the last fifteen or so years? Maybe I'm a bitch.”

"Well, as long as there’s no one else in the picture, I see no problem. Bitch all you want to me." he grins.

Your expression shifts into a playful contemplation, "Why me? I'm pretty sure there are plenty of people out there dying for a dinner date with you. I mean, the last thing we shared was a juice box."

"Maybe I'm hoping to reignite an old spark. If I recall our MASH game correctly, we were supposed to be living in a shack with 20 kids, a dog, and daily commutes on a scooter," Junhui retorts.

"Thank goodness that scenario never played out, but, um, I'm not sure dinner is a good idea."

As the banter unfolds, you realize it's been an eternity since you've experienced the thrill of a proper date. The mere thought of dressing up, the nervous excitement before meeting someone, and the shared laughter over a romantic meal become fragments of a distant past, like pages in a cherished novel stored away on a forgotten shelf.

“We never know unless we try, right?” He says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“You always hit on exes that you stumble upon on a random Tuesday?”

“Only the pretty ones.” Junhui grins, swiftly extracting a candy box from the bag. With a quick scribble on the side, he hands it to you. “If you change your mind. Happy Valentine's Day.”

You roll your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you accept the candy. “Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Jun.”

You depart with a box of candy in hand when your shift ends, Junhui's number hastily scribbled on the top, the ink still fresh as that abrupt encounter. As you make your way home, the city lights shimmering in the distance, you find your thoughts circling back to his audacious proposition.

The weight of the candy box seems to mirror the gravity of the decision before you. The city streets, now quieter in the late evening, echo with dilemma of pursuing his offer. You can't deny the charm that lingers in the air—a mix of confusion, nostalgia, and an unexpected connection. The mere act of considering his offer adds a layer of excitement to the night, anticipation for plans that have been yet set in motion.

As you unlock the door to your apartment, the scent of familiarity welcomes you warmly for once, likely due to the refreshing end of your night. You set the candy aside–already having memorized Junhui's number–and with a decisive tap, you enter his number into your phone. The screen lights up with his name, a digital beacon inviting you to venture into uncharted territory. As you send a quick message, the city outside continues its gentle hum, and you can't help but feel giddy. You’re eleven all over again.

The memory of Junhui's charismatic grin lingers in your mind, a subtle tug at the edges of your thoughts the moment you hit send, and you throw the phone aside, letting yourself get rid of the electrifying nerves running through your body. When you hear the notification going off–Junhui’s name on display–you realize there’s no going back.

The following day, you’re excited about living for once. Delighted to have something to look forward to after work, you board today's bus with a genuine smile on your face, a subtle change that doesn't escape the notice of the bus drivers, who have grown accustomed to your early presence by now.

As the bus carries you through the familiar townscape, you can't help but revel in the subtle shift in the air. The usual humdrum of daily life seems to have given way to a vibrant undercurrent of anticipation for the holiday. The ordinary scenes outside the window take on a slightly pink hue, and you find yourself savoring the details that often go unnoticed illuminated with festive decor.

Work hours also pass with a newfound energy, and the anticipation for the evening grows with each passing minute, even with the rambunctious customers buying more gifts just in the nick of time. The mundane tasks of the day become a mere backdrop to the vibrant scene that awaits you once the clock strikes the end of the workday.

Today, the world outside the candy store seems to radiate brighter than any other day has. The street lights gradually flickering on, usually just a backdrop to your daily grind, now beckon with a promise of surprises. As the day unfolds, you find yourself counting down the hours until your appointment time arrives and you quickly change into your Valentine's date attire, anticipating Junhui's reappearance.

Time moves forward—one hour, two hours, three hours. Doubts begin to creep in. Were you merely indulging in wishful thinking at this point?

The rose-tinted glasses, which once painted the day with a hopeful hue, must have started to expire. Now, a subtle gray takes over, bringing you back to the stark reality of the passing moments. The initial excitement begins to wane, replaced by a tinge of disappointment and a hint of uncertainty.

As the clock ticks away, doubts and questions swirl in your mind like a gathering storm. The vibrant anticipation that once filled the air begins to dissipate, leaving behind a quiet unease.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror, the Valentine's date attire now carrying a touch of wistfulness. The city outside, once alive with the promise of a special evening, now takes on a different tone. The street lights, initially beacons of excitement, cast shadows that dance with anxiety and unease. The imminent arrival of buses amplifies a fleeting thought–maybe, just maybe, you can still catch it if you run.

Taking a leap of faith, you hastily gather your belongings and make your way to the bus station, adhering to your initial plan—opting for takeout in the solitude of home, if restaurants are still an option at this hour. Amidst the uncertainty, your phone succumbs to the lack of power, its screen plunged into darkness, mirroring the tone of your night.

The familiarity of home brings no comfort, only disheartenment. You set aside the dinner you had envisioned for tonight, plugging in your phone to replenish its drained battery, intentionally avoiding any further interaction with the outside world for the remainder of the night.

When your phone finally regains its power, messages burst to life in an instant, one particular message standing out, beckoning attention. That is, of course, if you were still around to witness it.

Junhui: I’m so sorry! You will not believe the day I had. My office was bombarding me all day with extra work and i only left now. Please tell me its not too late.

P.S. and here's that valentine i wanted to give to you <3 i hope you like it as much as this fic so far

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real-total-drama-takes · 3 months

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Important! PLEASE READ!

Hi everyone!

So, it’s been a while. There’s been a lot of people asking where I’ve been/if I’m okay/when I’ll update the blog again. I’m sorry I left you guys in the dark! My personal life has been crazy busy and I couldn’t find the time to sit down and type up an explanation. I wanted to be thorough, but more than that, I wanted to be accurate about what the future of this blog looks like. So, without further ado, here’s the long awaited update post.

This blog is going to be taking a hiatus. I love the total drama fandom with my whole heart and soul, but there are also a lot of weirdos who turn up in my ask box. It only takes one look at TD reddit and all of the homophobic/transphobic/racist content on there to know what I’m talking about. Not to mention— things got WAY worse with the td2023 season 2 drop. In short, it’s exhausting to deal with. When I first started this blog, it was significantly easier for me to manage the toxicity, but now I work in a position where dealing with bigotry is sort of an important part of my job. It’s become way too draining on me. At least— for the time being.

This hiatus is NOT permanent, and I will come back to tumblr some day. I don’t want to set a specific time frame for fear that just won’t be feasible, but I won’t be gone forever. I’ve seen so much love from this fandom, so I could never abandon it. So many people have sent me well wishes over the past few months, and it has genuinely made me emotional at times. I love you guys so much.

Okay. The last thing I want to say is this. I am going to post the backlog of asks currently sitting in my inbox, so this blog will continue to update. The ask box will be closed, but replies are on for all my posts, so there can be continued conversation. This post will take the place of my current pinned post until I decide to come back to tumblr.

Thank you guys SO much. I am so grateful for (almost) all of you. I love you 🩷

EDIT: I am SO sorry for worrying everyone by not posting for a while. I should’ve hopped on to let everyone know I was at least okay way sooner. I am okay, I’m not dead, and I am really sorry for causing concern.

#pinned post

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nolita-fairytale · 10 months

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don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter one: june/july

summary: you and carmy plan a wedding like it's the opening of a new restaurant.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov

wc: 3.4k

listen to: let's get married (bleachers cover) - mitski

a/n: the long awaited wedding FIC!! welcome to part four of the 'make my heart surrender' universe (four part series). this takes place a month after the end of 'still into you' but before the carmy as your baby daddy headcanon series (my carmy masterlist is organized chronologically, if you'd like to read in order). anyways, i truly adore writing for these two and feel it important to note that after watching season 2, i've realized this has just become an animal of its own -- its own universe/timeline/entity which also means there AREN'T any SEASON TWO SPOILERS! this chapter was inspired by a conversation from two months ago between me and @carmensberzattos so courtesy of us, enjoy some healthy relationship-future husband!carmy. also don't worry syd will be starring in the next chapter. i missed her too. lmk if you wanna be added or removed from the taglist.

masterlist | part two

"let's just get married, don't wanna walk alone, so let's get married, 'cause we don't wanna walk alone or runaway." (bleachers, let's get married.)

'I just want to be married to you' are the words uttered (first by you, you think, but maybe he said it first, you really can’t remember) that lead you and Carmy to the decision that you should elope. Sooner rather than later, preferably, is what you both agree on. It’s not like you’re planning on having a big wedding anyways. How much work can a civil ceremony at City Hall and a nice dinner party afterwards be to pull off?

Famous last words.

You’re not sure how you’ve gotten from there to here, locked in a heated debate over menu edits with your fiance in the middle of your shared apartment when the sun’s just barely come up, but here you are.

“I’m just saying that we should be open minded and leave room for his artistic integrity!” Carmy passionately argues, winding you up as he makes his case.

“Artistic integrity? Carmy, are you kidding me right now? I-!” you fire back, shaking your head incredulously. “We said we were gonna keep everything chill.”

“It is chill!” he defends, matter-of-factly.

Oh, he’s just looking for a fight.

“There is nothing chill about a parm espuma and it certainly doesn’t belong anywhere near the carbonara!” you scoff, stubbornly. “I mean, the only reason he even brought up the idea of a goddamn espuma in the first place is because he was trying to impress you.”

Carmy’s jaw twitches in response as he grinds his teeth, a display of discomfort at the mere thought.

“He-he was not,” he denies with the kind of conviction of a five year old toddler who's sure as can be.

You shoot him a look.

“Carmen,” you warn him.

Sure it’s a silly thing to fight about, but there’s no malice in this argument. It’s all passion, artistry, and for lack of a better term, foreplay. You let out a sigh, softening before you rise out of your chair.

“Baby, when are you going to admit that you’re kind of a big deal and that people want to impress you?” you level with him, making your way over to your very stubborn and very insistent fiance. You settle down onto his lap, before tucking a stray curl behind his ear as you break, giving the sweetest smile.

He laughs dryly, averting his eyes from you because he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to stand his ground (especially when you’re looking at him like that).

You’re right. And he knows you’re right.

And Carmy’s never been able to resist you for long anyways.

A fox-like grin spreads across your lips and you know you’ve won the argument when you feel a pair of hands snake around your waist.

“Don’t push it,” he warns you, seeing the look on your face as he shakes his head, finally returning his eyes to yours.

You raise an eyebrow, “You like that I push.”

He nods slowly in surrender, his face softening as he asks you:

“You really want to fight about this?”

You shake your head with a laugh.

“No, of course not! Of course, I don’t want to fight about this!” you exhale, sliding your hands over his shoulders to wrap around his neck. “But I do think that your new buddy is trying to impress us and that it may be wise for us to reign him in – clear the air on what it is we’re looking for.”

A beat.

“Don’t get me wrong. Of course, we can leave room for creativity… but I don’t want our wedding party to turn into some pretentious fine dining fancy party.”

“Well, we did meet because of some pretentious fine dining fancy thing,” he points out, giving your hip a squeeze.

You giggle, “How could I forget?”

You shake your head once more, leaning in to press your lips against his. Carmy inhales deeply, enjoying the feel of your lips on his, your arms wrapped around his neck, the weight of your body on his lap.

You indulge him for a moment, deepening the kiss as you feel your future husband relax against you, because you really are happy that Carmy’s made a new friend.

Carmy had met a private chef a few months ago and had been trying to hire him for the restaurant for a while now. Wanting to work for himself, the chef had respectfully declined all advances, but he and Carmy had kept in touch, and it looked as if the relationship could potentially extend outside of the four walls of a kitchen. Since you both agreed that no one from the restaurant should work the party, it had been good timing (making a new friend and the fact that he was a private chef) and the right move for Carmy to ask his new friend to cater the wedding.

“Fine,” you resign yourself, pulling away from the kiss. “Derek can keep the liquid nitrogen but that is as far as it goes.”

Carmy shoots you a look – one that says he’s not quite convinced.

“And I will be more open minded in the spirit of… artistic integrity. But I’m not changing my mind about courses. Family style or bust, baby,” you negotiate, a serious look in your eyes.

Carmy thinks it over for a moment before finally coming to a resolution.

“Deal,” Carmy nods with the same intensity as a ‘yes, chef.’

You nod too, completing the agreement.

“I want it to be real, Carm. I want it to be us,” you reiterate, your voice soft as you make your condition loud and clear.

“I know,” he returns, just as determined and committed to the idea as he is to you.

You’re satisfied with the resolution – even more satisfied with the fact that you’ve come to it together.

“You know…” he starts, something in his voice that you can’t quite make out, unsure if you’re going to like what’s about to come out of his mouth. “... it could be a perfect menu if you just let me-.”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Carmen!” you interrupt, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

You are so not playing this game today.

“You don’t even know what I was-!”

“Yes, I do! You are not catering your own wedding party,” you protest, adamantly.

You know him too well.

He laughs, shaking his head as he leans back against his chair, like he’s in high school again, and you’ve just caught him sneaking back into the house.

“God, I love you! But sometimes you drive me up the wall, Carm,” you groan out of frustration, eliciting another laugh from his chest as you hang your head, resting your forehead against his shoulder this time.

“Such a control freak,” you sigh, against his chest.

“Thought you like it when I take control,” he murmurs, beginning to leave kisses across your exposed skin.

You giggle partially because it tickles, and mostly because of what Carmy’s said.

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

You lift your head and Carmy kisses you again, this time savoring the way your lips feel against his for a little while longer – just long enough to remind himself that he wants to have the option to sneak away in the middle of your wedding party to have sex much more than he wants cater to be in control all the time.

Sometimes, he thinks to himself, control is overrated anyways.

Only sometimes.

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, letting go of the idea. “I’ll get back to Derek about final menu edits and make sure he knows that while we want him to be creative, we also want to keep it… you know….”

“Chill?” you emphasize.

“Chill,” he confirms.

“Okay. Thank you, baby,” you smile softly, trying your best to enjoy the temporary moment of peace between the two of you. Carm squeezes your hip as you roll your eyes with a sigh, muttering an:

“Oh fuck.”

“What’s up?”

You shake your head again, laughing incredulously before letting out another sigh.

“Just wait till we go through this again with the cake.”

“Fuck!” Carmy shouts towards the ceiling, throwing his head back as you laugh. “Why did we say we wanted to plan a wedding again?”

“Well baby, I don’t think either of us can pass up on a chance to create a menu,” you giggle, leaving a few kisses along his jawline before you make your way up to his nose. “Can you imagine if we decided to have a full-on wedding? That’d be a freaking mess.”

He chuckles, “It’d be like opening another restaurant.”

“Yeah, pass,” you hum, so glad to have dodged that bullet.

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

By the time you and Carmy are even ready to focus on the cake portion of said wedding-dinner-party it’s a month later. You’ve been through half of the bakeries in the city, you think, and something’s just felt off. You’re practically eating your words, as it dawns on you that you’re having the exact same thought as Carmy: that it could just be perfect if you were able to make it yourself.

Then again, you remind yourself that a cake is an entirely different thing versus running a dinner service, so it can’t be that unhinged to have these thoughts, right?

But you and Carmy made an agreement, so in solidarity, you decide it’s only fair for you to make like Tammy Wynette and stand by your man.

You’re grateful for the half day you have today (“Summer Fridays”, as it’s so fondly referred to around your office) – and the fact that you get to work from home. What it means for you is that today you can clock out early and pick up samples from the tenth bakery (okay, so maybe it’s the eleventh but truthfully, you’ve lost count) in the running for your wedding cake.

You change out of your pajamas for the first time today, throwing on a slip dress and one of Carmy’s crisp, white Ralph Lauren button downs – worn layered and open like a cardigan – before you head to the bakery, and then eventually, The Bear.

The restaurant is closed for the afternoon, as they do a shift change over: some stay and take a break, others go home, let the dinner crew come in and take over. It’s different these days and while some days you miss it – the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, the sounds of an ‘all day’ shouted by the expeditor, the careful dance that is working in a kitchen – you remind yourself that you’re enjoying a half day, and that when you’d chosen to leave, you were ready for a change.

After entering The Bear, you make small talk with Gary while he finishes turning over the dining room for dinner, catching up over the flag football league he’s recently joined – one, it seems, to be taken very seriously by all participants. You tell him that you’re here with wedding cake samples, and he’s more than eager to give you some space to set up, because who doesn’t love free cake? Mid-sentence, Gary gestures towards a table for you to set up on, as you begin to unpack your large brown paper bag.

“Well, well. Look who it is,” Marcus calls out, as soon as he sees you. “Heard a rumor you were out here. You brought cake?”

“I brought cake,” you repeat as confirmation, turning to see your dear friend and mentee. “But don’t worry. I’ll be thinking about yours the whole time.”

He snickers, moving in for a hug.

“‘S Good to see you, Chef. How ya been?” he asks, enveloping you in his arms for a tight squeeze.

“Good to see you too, Marcus. I’m good. Had a half day today so… you know, we’ve just been busy with wedding stuff. But what’s going on with you? What’s new?” you answer, turning the focus back onto him.

“Oh you know. The usual. Though, I’ve been workin’ on some new shit for Syd’s new menu when I’m not here,” he answers, a broad smile spreading across his lips as he talks about.

“Jeez, Brooks. I know, Carm’s got ya busy. When the hell do you ever sleep?” you ask, as you shake your head.

“I don’t,” he answers plainly.

And just as you’re about to remind Marcus to get some rest, Sugar comes bursting through the front doors, her rounded belly full on display now that she’s had a chance to tell almost everyone the news of her pregnancy.

“Hey! Sorry I’m running late,” Sugar says, announcing her arrival. “Got tied up running an errand and then I had to stop at the store for Tums. This baby is killing me with the heartburn these days. Fucking christ.”

“Oh, no big deal. I haven’t even seen Carmy yet,” you shrug, as she mutters a surprised ‘oh’ and Marcus mumbles something about going to get Carmy. “It’s good to see you!”

“Yo, Carm!” Marcus shouts, heading back to the kitchen while you and Sugar exchange hellos.

“Awww, it’s good to see you too, sweetie,” she smiles, pulling you in for your second hug of the day.

This is something you miss about working in the kitchen: the camaraderie, the found-family, all the love.

“Wow this is… quite the spread,” Sugar mentions, eyeing the cakes you’ve laid out on the table.

“Yeah… they had a lot of ideas, I guess,” you say with a shrug.

Sugar shoots you an unconvinced look.

“Okay, fine. I had a lot of ideas…” you admit guiltily.

“...aaaand no one is going to do it the way you want it to be done,” Sugar sighs in the middle of your sentence.

“And they were more than willing to play. I couldn’t help myself!” you finish, defending yourself.

“Well, your enthusiasm is one of the many things I love about you, but… yeah, this is a lot,” Sugar grins as she gestures towards the overwhelming amount of cake you’ve just laid out on the table.

Regardless, Sugar really can’t wait to be your sister-in-law.

“Speaking of… I thought this was just a small wedding. It looks like you’re preparing to feed the entire French Army during Marie Antoinette’s reign.”

“Oh it still is – small,” you answer, simply. “I went a little overboard, didn’t I?”

“Why go through all this trouble? You might as well have a small ceremony instead of-,”

“No!” you protest, hearing another voice say the same thing.

“Sugar, we’ve already told you that we don’t want to do anything big!” Carmy adds, as soon as he enters the dining room.

“Hey, babe,” he says, sending you the softest smile as he looks your way.

“Hey you,” you smile in return as he approaches you, giving him a short ‘hello’ peck on the lips.

“Fak attack!” Fak cries out, as he enters the dining room. “Ooooh cake tasting!”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, as Fak is quickly followed by some of the line cooks that have just wrapped up lunch service.

It’s then that you hear Tina’s voice, growling something in Spanish as Richie speaks way too loudly about god knows what, as Ebra follows behind, somehow in the middle of a story that has little to do with whatever Tina and Richie are going on about.

You smile to yourself, because you really do miss this part.

“I told everyone we were doing a cake tasting,” Carmy starts, gesturing towards the rest of the staff as they join you. “That cool?”

“Totally. We have more than enough to share,”

“That’s true,” Sugar says. "And I can't complain because the baby is reeeeaaally craving cake these days."

As everyone at The Bear crowd around the circular dining table where you set up the cake tasting, you all enjoy bites here and there, comparing notes, sharing reactions to each flavor combo.

Earl grey & lemon. A classic red velvet. And of course, you had to get a little weird with the black sesame clementine combination you’d dreamed up with the pastry chef you’d been working with.

“I think my favorite is the black sesame and clementine but I doubt it’s a cake everyone will like. Doesn’t have the crowd appeal we probably should keep in mind,” you murmur to Carmy as the two of you watch his staff go on about the tiramisu-inspired one.

“Well, babe, it’s our wedding! We can do whatever we want,” he encourages you.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, paralyzed with indecision.

“The tiramisu one is good. I’m leaning towards that,” Carmy shares with you, eager to hear your thoughts.

“Yeah, I don’t know. Don’t you think it’s a little too on the nose?” you reply, unsettled and unsure that any of these are right.

“Why don’t you guys just let me make it?” Marcus interjects, asking the question he’s been wondering this entire time.

“I-,” you start, unable to help the fact that your eyes begin to wet with emotion. “Really?”

He laughs, glancing sideways at you.

“Uh yeah. I’m a little offended neither of you did in the first place,” Marcus teases the two of you, though you know there’s some truth to it.

You and Carmy exchange a look that says something along the lines of: ‘oh shit.’

“Well, we didn’t think you’d-,” you stammer, beginning to explain the why behind you and Carmy’s hesitation in the first place.

“We just thought you’d want to- that you should be able to enjoy the party,” Carmy adds, finishing your sentence, his eyes widening as he realizes that you both kinda fucked up.

“Chefs,” he says, looking from you to Carmy once more, with a seriousness in his voice as he rises to his feet. “It would be my honor. And just because I’m makin’ the cake doesn’t mean I won’t be able to enjoy the party. I can do it in the days leading up to it.”

“Oh-, okay, yes! Yes!” you cry, leaping to your feet this time, as if you’re accepting Carmy’s proposal again.

Richie rolls his eyes in response, groaning as he mutters something snarky to Fak, as Marcus pulls you into the biggest bear hug.

“You all are a bunch of saps,” he scoffs, directing this next comment to Marcus this time. “You big softie!”

“Richie!” Sugar hisses, glaring the sharpest daggers from her eyeballs into Richie’s skull.

“Oh fuck off, Richie,” you snort, with a laugh. “You’re just salty because… wait. Carm, you haven’t asked him yet?”

“Babe, I-,” Carmy whines, his eyes wide. “You just ruined the surprise!”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah ‘fuck’ is right,” he pouts, though he can never stay upset with you for too long.

“What the fuck are you guys even talking about?” Richie asks, squinting as he looks between the two of you.

You and Carmy share a knowing look, deciding that now is a better time as ever.

“We want you to be our witness, Cousin. At the courthouse,” Carmy says, a soft intensity in his eyes as he answers Richie’s question.

“Jesus Christ,” Sugar snarks, with an eye roll as she realizes she’ll be stuck with him at the damn courthouse as well.

“Wh-?” Richie begins to ask, looking from Carmy to you, then back to Carmy again, tears welling up in his eyes as he realizes what Carmy’s just said. “You-? Really?”

“Yeah, of course,” you reply, in a well-duh kind of tone. “Plus you know I can’t get married without my Ava there.”

“And sign the marriage license and everything?” Richie balks, because he really can’t believe it.

“Yeah,” you reassure him.

“Yeah. I mean, fuck yeah! Fuck yeah!” Richie declares, even more sentimental than Marcus this time. “Shit, Cuz… Hell yeah, I’ll sign the fuck out of that marriage license as your witness.”

Tina snickers, exchanging a look with Sugar, and earning a glare from Richie. He lowers his voice, directing the question towards you this time:

“Oh and uh… cool if Ava still sings “Love Story?” I kinda promised her she could sing a Taylor Swift song as part of my best man speech and she insists that one is about you and Carmy,” Richie asks, looking around suspiciously, afraid of someone else hearing.

“Awwww, Richie. Of course,” you coo, only melting inside a little at the thought.

“What?” Richie snaps, realizing that he hasn’t been as discreet as he thought he was.

Sugar snorts in response, earning a laugh from both Tina and Marcus.

It’s Marcus’ turn to roll his eyes at Richie this time.

“What?” Richie repeats, this time with a little more annoyance in his voice.

Sugar smirks, firing back with a:

“Who’s the big softie now, Rick?”

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #still into you #make my heart surrender #dont want to walk alone

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azsazz · 5 months

Text

Change Your Ticket (Part 6)

Rugby Star!Cassian x Reader (A Modern AU)

Summary: Dating famous rugby star Cassian Bailey is a dream. What's not one is keeping your secret relationship under wraps. Will you and Cassian be able to keep from the limelight or will your relationship crumble because of it?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,300

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Notes: I rlly need to stop overthinking this...so I'm just going to post it.

_________________________________________

Cassian don’t know why he’s running myself into the ground. It’s been a great morning, and although you’d had to leave for work, he’d enjoyed getting the little time seeing those pretty eyes, how your cheeks had pinkened with his taunts.

He almost had you climbing right back into bed with him.

He had loved the way you moaned and groaned about work, how you tried to hide away from him by running into the bathroom. How you tried to block him out by starting the shower, trying to mask how wet you were for him by drenching yourself under the hot spray.

Cassian bets it didn’t work.

His cock stirs at the thought of finishing he’d started, lingering in the space between the both of you like a thread winding tighter and tighter. And he thought it might snap when you’d come out all ready for work, eyes a little bit dazed as they avoided his lounging body on your bed. Cassian had all of the time in the world to tease you.

It was something after your sheepish goodbye, still reveling in the fact that he’d been so close to breaking through your routine. And if your boss dared fire you for spending a little time with him, well, Cassian isn’t too sure he’d be all that mad.

He wouldn’t mind taking care of you. In fact, it’s what he desires. And it’s not some manly expectation for you not to work, if that’s what you truly want, then so be it, he will be your best cheerleader. But he always aches when he’s away from you. He wants you by his side because he’s never had that, never had the rush that someone who actually cares for his wellbeing watches him play the game he loves, will caress him and speak encouragement, no matter if he wins or loses.

He doesn’t have a mother to call when things go sour, a father to seek advice from, nor siblings to playfully banter with. Sure, he’s had the children who’d he seen grow in the system with him, but oftentimes he’d be separated by a foster home that would only last a handful of months before they sent him away again, no matter how much he tried to stay. He’d help in the kitchen, with chores, jumping at the chance without even being asked because if someone were cleaning or cooking, maybe they’d keep him around a little bit longer.

His attempts were futile, at best.

“Bring it in, gents,” Coach calls and Cassian jogs over with the rest of his team. He snags a water bottle with thanks from the young boy handing them out, spraying a large gulp into his parched mouth before tilting the bottle back and wetting his already damp hair.

“Thanks, kid,” he grins, and the little boys’ cheeks turn red.

Cassian joins the rest of the team, forming a semi-circle around the coach. He finds his place between Azriel and Rhysand, the captain of the team. They are his best mates, brothers in every sense of the word, except literally. They’ve all played for the Velaris Stars for two seasons now, and are almost inseparable, both on and off the field.

“Great practice, eh?” he asks, getting down on one knee like the rest of the players as they await Coach Devlin’s words of wisdom. Something the coach has been trying to instill in his team for a while now, according to Azriel, who’s been with the Stars the longest. There isn’t a practice nor game that goes by without a morale boosting chat from Coach.

Azriel cuts him a glare from the side of his eye, and Cassian winces. His teammate hadn’t gotten to practice with them, ankle still not quite healed after the last match. That was poor wording on Cassian’s part.

Rhys brushes his damp hair from his eyes, toweling the sweat from his face as he responds. “Eh, still could work on some more scrums, but we’re in pretty good shape for Saturday’s game.”

“Oi, Third Degree,” Devlin’s snaps, startling the three of them. Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys have become known to the team and the fans as Third Degree because the group of them dominate on the field. It had a nice ring to it, if he does say so himself. Devlin stands with hands on his hips, lips curled around his whistle as if he was about to blow it to gain their attention. “We interrupting your little chit-chat?”

“No, sir,” the three answer in unison, and Cassian notes the difficulty his coach has to not roll his eyes. He bites back a smirk, giving him his attention.

“As I was saying,” Devlin continues with a pointed look in their direction. It slides off Azriel’s shoulders but Rhysand has the gall to look innocently at their coach, as if he’s nothing but the angel captain Devlin thought he was when he’d been chosen for such a position. Cassian snickers and Rhys elbows him. “We’re playing the Autumn Rangers this weekend. Now, since it’s a home game, I expect all of you on your best behavior. You will welcome them to Velaris with sportsmanlike conduct and will not be brawling outside of this stadium,” he says, eyeing Azriel, who had gotten into a fistfight with Lucien Vanserra in the hotel lobby last season.

Cassian never did hear about what had happened, though he did wonder if it had anything to do with Lucein’s older brother, Eris, who is the Stars’ athletic trainer. The younger Vanserra was estranged from his large family, all connected to the sport in some way, shape, or form. Something about a distasteful relationship in the public eye his family was not proud of. In the end, Lucien had lost her heart anyway. Cassian feels a twinge of pity for the youngster, only in his second year in the sport. He has no one, either.

“He better not let me catch him off of this grass, then,” Azriel mutters, arms crossed over his chest. He won’t be playing in the game this weekend because of his ankle, and Cassian knows how hard he’s taking the news. While they were practicing, he’d been on the sidelines with Eris, working on stretching and testing the muscles of his rolled ankle. The red-headed trainer told Devlin he was going to have to sit out for another game, much to Azriel’s utter annoyance.

“He’d probably go straight for that fragile ankle of yours,” Rhys answers quietly, violet gaze still on their coach.

Azriel kicks him with his good foot and Rhys winces, biting back a grin.

Coach Devlin’s speech wraps up with some words of wisdom. The same one’s Cassian hears after every practice, before every game, and even in his nightmares. “Stars help the moon light up the universe. That’s the power of teamwork. Now get off my field and get into the showers, you all stink.”

“To this day, I don’t understand what that’s supposed to mean,” Cassian mutters to his friends, nodding at Balthazar as they make their way towards the locker rooms. He catches Eris eyeing Azriel, a pair of crutches in his hands, but the latter doesn’t seem to notice, or is avoiding eye contact with the trainer as he limps from the field. “You good, man?”

“Peachy,” Azriel grunts, the fringe of his hair falling into his eyes. He’s trying his best not to limp, but there’s a twist of pain in his ankle and he hisses uncomfortably. He’d rather it gives out than use those fucking crutches Eris is lugging around for him. He can fuck right off with those. “It’s just another bullshit waying of saying ‘team work makes the dream work,’ Cass.”

Cassian considers his coaches words. He thought they’d played as an impeccable team during the last match that they had, but they’d still lost anyway. He’s not going to think it’s because his own shooting star wasn’t there in the city, watching him play.

“Maybe he needs to work on it a little,” Cass answers, “Shit’s confusing.”

“More confusing than the Rangers chant? ‘Allez les rouges?’ What does that even mean?”

“It means ‘Go Reds,’” Azriel answers, and Cassian didn’t know he knew French. Maybe he should pester him until he can teach him something worth saying to you to make you swoon. Then, he thinks that Azriel would teach him to say something naughty instead, and Cassian changes his mind.

He tugs the hemline of his shirt up and it sticks to his skin. It’s tight so that other players can’t easily grab it, but it often gets stuck over his broad shoulders. With a breath of frustration, the constricting fabric finally gives way, and Cassian rolls his shoulders, tossing it onto the bench in front of his locker before he digs around for his phone.

He can hear it buzzing against the wood and his brows furrow. Most of the people he knows are from the team, you, and a few others in the league. There’s his media manager, who he has weekly meetings with, and very sparse social media notifications on.

There’s a giddy stir in his stomach, hoping it might be you. He needs to shower, set up a grocery delivery, and head to his house to begin preparations for the extravagant dinner he’s planning on making you.

Cassian’s smile morphs into a frown upon seeing his lock screen. It’s not a call from you, but notifications cover his screen, from his manager, telling him to call him immediately, to a few friends he has outside of his team, texting him about something that’s happening on Twitter.

He unlocks the phone, heart kicking up in speed. If he’s being mentioned and called out for something in the media, it’s usually not a good thing. He wracks his brain as his fingers move on their own accord, motions robotic as they click the blue icon.

The first thing he sees when the screen refreshes is a photo of you, and his world stills.

The noise in the locker room turns to static in his ears. His heart is pounding so hard in his chest, adrenaline rushing through his veins, that he thinks he may drop the phone to the ground. His vision tunnels in on the photo of you from this morning, wearing his black t-shirt stuffed into your trousers. You’re pulling your hair into a clip, your work bag slung over your shoulder. You look good, of course you do, it��s exactly how he remembered you when you’d left him this morning. But what is going on?

The caption above the photo reads:

Cassian Bailey’s Love Try: Secret Girlfriend Revealed!

Fuck. Oh, fuck.

Cassian’s hands shake as he scrolls. Post upon post of you headed to work fill his screen like a tidal wave of coverage. Most are the same photo, and he doesn’t dare look at any of the comments or reposts. There’s a grainy one of you at what must be your work, eyes round and tinged with fear as you stand in the lobby of the building.

He exits the app, pulling up your number instead. He shoves his phone between his shoulder and ear, digging around frantically for his clothes, wallet, and keys. He needs to get out of here, needs to find you, because your phone is going straight to voicemail no matter how many times he calls.

“Fuck,” he mutters, swinging around only to run face-to-face with Azriel and Rhysand.

“Cass?” Rhys asks, reaching his hands out as if not to scare him away. He can barely even focus on them right now, mind reeling with thoughts of if you’re safe, how you’re taking all of this, if you’re over. “You alright?”

“Is it true?” Azriel adds, hazel eyes a touch softer now.

He looks frantically between his friends. His mouth can no longer form words but all he knows is that he needs to get out of here right the fuck now.

Cassian can only nod. It’s more of a jerk of his head, and then he’s shoving his way between them and beelining for the door. It’s all he can do to pray that there isn’t media waiting to follow him, because he’s going straight to your home.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“(Y/N), it’s definitely not the paparazzi.”

You place your freshly refilled glass on the table and shove to your feet. The blanket falls from your lap onto a heap on the floor, but you couldn’t care less as you make your way to the front door, Mor on your heels.

You freeze when you round the corner, meeting a worried hazel gaze that makes your aching heart crack. His eyes are red-rimmed, brows pulled tight with worry. Cassina’s hair is a mess, from both practice and running his fingers through where it was pulled back in a sloppy bun for practice.

He pushes gently past Feyre, but he’s still a wall of a man and she jumps out of his way.

It seems like time slows when he reaches you. Your vision vignettes so it’s only Cassian, standing before you like a child scared of the monster under their bed. He reaches out but thinks better of it, worried you don’t want him to touch you at all.

Your name is a whisper across his lips, and it makes you break, falling into his strong arms.

“I can fix this, I swear.” His voice is raw, cracking with his words. You hug him closer. His heart is running rampant in his chest, so you stroke soothing but shaky circles into his back. A touch of relief floods you, knowing that Cassian is as worried about all of this as you are. People know your name, your face, and they’ll be digging into your past, predicting your future, forever, now.

“Cass,” you offer gently, pulling away slightly to look up at him. He doesn’t want to give an inch, hands clamped like iron around your waist. “I don’t want to break up.”

“You don’t?” he asks, like he can’t quite believe it. His frantic gaze searches yours, and you let him see the truth in yours. His shoulders relax only slightly after he finds your words sincere, moving one large hand to your cheek to caress your face.

“No.”

You watch him swallow and force out the question he doesn’t want to ask. “Not even now that everyone knows you’re mine?”

No, you don’t want to be in the media, don’t want anyone to know who you are or try to get close to you only because of Cassian. The thought of people with ill intentions coming after you makes you sick, but you don’t want to stop this relationship with Cassian.

“I have no idea how I’m going to come back from this one, but no, I don’t want to leave you.”

Cassian releases a shaky exhale and because he can’t help himself, he dips down and kisses the hell out of you. You breathe him in, salty with sweat and part your lips, allowing his tongue to dip into your mouth, brushing softly against your own. It feels like an apology but he doesn’t need to give you one, it isn’t his fault you left the house this morning in a t-shirt you’d assumed no one would connect to the rugby player.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he breathes, lips brushing your own. He’s still holding you close, and the cocoon of his arms keeps you steady. None of the outside world matters right now, not when he’s holding you like this. “I’ll do whatever I can to fix this. I promise.”

You nod, an unsure feeling stirring your gut. You don’t know how he might begin to even attempt fixing something like this, but you trust Cassian, and there will be time to talk privately when your friends aren’t staring at you while your boyfriend kisses the daylights out of you.

Speaking of, Mor has the biggest grin on her face and Feyre’s eyes are wide, glass of wine halted halfway to her lips. At least she’s shut the door.

“Hey, Mor,” Cassian nods, and you stare up at him incredulously.

“Hey, Cass.”

Wait a minute.

“You two know each other?” you ask, just as shocked as Feyre, who’s jaw hangs low.

“My uncle owns the team,” Mor shrugs, and now your jaw is touching the ground. “I know all of the players.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Feyre exclaims, elbowing Mor in the side. She groans dramatically, rolling her eyes as she snatches her friend’s glass from her hand to take a sip.

This is certainly news to you. You can’t believe all this time Mor and Cassian have known each other. When you were in the bar last week for the game and your friends had attended, Mor didn’t act like she even knew what rugby was.

“Because I didn’t think you were that into rugby,” she tuts, saying exactly what you’re thinking. She sends a pointed look your way, “And I didn’t know you were dating Cassian Bailey!”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. You do feel bad for not telling your best friends, but you haven’t told anyone, not even your family.

Oh no, your family. Have they seen the social media storm that you’re now in the eye of? Have they been trying to contact you to ask their own questions or see if you’re okay?

You try to dislodge yourself from Cassian but he refuses to let you go, turning to you with a frown.

“Why are you wearing a Sealion’s hat?” His question serious, and there’s a slight scrunch to his nose, letting you in on his distaste. Fuck, you forgot about the hat.

You laugh, but it comes out thickly. “It’s Tarquin’s. He let me borrow it after the paps showed up to my work.”

“Should I be worried about this Tarquin?” Cassian asks, genuine concern on his face. So much so that your wet chuckle turns a touch more real.

“He’s more into you than me, so I’m wondering if I’m the one who should actually be worried,” you tease, hugging him tighter before pulling away. Cassian pouts, but you pat him on his chest. “You stink.”

“I thought you liked when I’m all musky and sweaty,” Cassian responds with a touch of suggestiveness. So much for figuring out what to do about your face in the public tonight.

And it’s fine, for now. You’d much rather spend your evening allowing Cassian to comfort you, and you him. You can still see the weariness in his gaze, how he may not want to talk about this in front of an audience. He cares for your opinion and your opinion only.

“Okay, ew,” Feyre says, sliding from her spot at the counter and reaching for her shoes. “I’m Feyre, by the way, and we’re totally leaving, right Mor?” she asks over her shoulder to a smirking Mor.

“No, wait, you guys don’t have to—”

“Yes, we do. We do not want to be around while the two of you make-up,” Mor agrees with Feyre, slipping into her own shoes. Expensive trainers that she must’ve slipped into quickly when she’d found out the news. She snatches her purse off of the counter, key ring jingling with keychains and keys. “Call us when your phone stops blowing up. See you later, Cass.”

“I think your captain is really hot by the way,” Feyre yells as Mor shoves her through the door with a laugh.

You sigh, turning back to your boyfriend who’s grinning down at you like a creep.

“What?”

“I like your friends,” he says earnestly, pulling you back into his body by your hips. “Now, how about some dinner?”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Change Your Ticket Taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy @starsinyourseyes @jdeclerc @indiedash @kennedy-brooke @tothestarsandwhateverend @azsteris @obsessivereaderchick @aalxrose @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielover @bookishbroadwaybish @itsinherited @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @vellichor01 @mischiefmanagers @queerqueenlynn @justdreamstars @mayemperess @wallacewillow0773638 @microwaveallthedemons

#cassian x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #cassian #modern!cassian #rugby!cassian au #rugby!cassian #acotar au #change your ticket

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 26 days

Text

A little wicked (Dark! Aemond x reader/rhaenyras daughter) really dark aemond. 18+ MDNI

Aemond x reader x Aegon

Tags: Showsetting, au MAJOR SEASON 2 SPOILERS

🔷Summary: After your husband dies, his brother claims his throne and also you.

🔷Author's note: Dark. I don't throw that label around lightly. you know the drill, dead dove? do not eat.

🔷Wordcount :4939

🔷Warnings: Smut, p in v, mention of loss of virginty, dubcon loss, death, misgony, misogny- aemond hates rhaerhae. Dark aemond, gore, blood.

You await your husband’s arrival, back from the battlefield. Today is the Battle of Rook’s rest. A battle that would go down in the History books of Westeros, Essos, all realms that ever were or will be. Unaware to you, of course. You are miles away from the battlefield, preparing for the return of your beloved husband, King Aegon II Targaryen.

You have prayed, for the first time in years, actually. Your mother didn’t believe much in prayer, more in action. You think her relationship with Alicent Hightower forever caused a deep religious wound. Religion is something that reminds your mother too much of her lost friend. So therefore, it wasn’t important in your upbringing.

Soon, you’ll be crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and finally take your rightful place beside Aegon. You have the foolish hope that you, as Rhaenyra's daughter, maybe can mend the wound. Maybe your mother can be swayed to bend the knee, to give up her claim to the throne. If only it was that simple.

You await news. Any news. At first you are positive that Aegon has made it back unaltered. He has to. He is the king, the fierce warrior you know and while he is nowhere as good as Aemond, he has more experience than those Rook Rest soldiers. It has to be enough. He has to be enough.

However, as minutes turn into hours, and the sun and the moon dance and circle one another in the sky, you become immensely worried about the fate of your loved one. You are thankful for when the doors of the throne room are pushed open and Prince Aemond enters, at long last.

Recently, the young Prince switched from dark black leather to green dark leather, to fully show his support for his family. You remind yourself you are a hostage to these people, stolen. The corners of the prince’s lips lift mere inches, as if smiling. Yet he quickly brushes that away, as if he cannot be seen that way.

Cole follows, his face sorrowful and full of pain. The sort of pain you see on a father’s face when he loses a son. You feel your smile die as the world seems to slow down, to fade, and to darken instantly. Cole steps forward.

Aemond walks to you. Your feet rush, but your legs are frozen, causing you to stumble and to almost fall flat on your face. Aemond pretends to walk to you, but instead walks past you, to the big Iron throne that looms over you as a dark curse.

You watch in silence as he sits down, confirming your worst fears. You hear yourself gulp, as tears stream down your face. Your Aegon is no longer alive. King Aemond now sits the throne, and he sits it as if it took him too long to begin with. He smiles down at you, mocking and almost patronizing. Cole speaks, as first. ‘’All hail his grace, King Aemond of house Targaryen, first of his name, king of the Andels, and the first men, Lord of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm!’’ The words hit you like blows.

Aemond lifts his chin as all soldiers around you and all knights, servants, everyone with working legs falls down to their knees, respecting and vowing loyalty to their new monarch. Everyone but you, that is. Aemond waits quite a while before he tells everyone to raise again. Likely enjoying everyone on their knees for him, and him alone. As a cat toying with a mouse.

After that the servants are rounded up, to be informed of the King’s fate. ‘’My dear people. It is with great sadness and immense pride, that I announce the death of my brother, King Aegon II. He shall be known to history as King Aegon the Brave, for he slew the traitor Princess Rhaenys. Had it not been for her treasonous acts on battlefield, our king would be alive today.’’ He waits a moment as gasps and relieved words cross the hall. ‘’It is with great pride that I shall now serve you as King, until my younger nephew, Prince Maelor comes of age. You may all now either bend the knee, or remain standing.’’ He gestures to the guards, and on his sign, they all draw their swords. A clear choice.

You watch as the one after the other servant drops to their knees, swearing loyalty to the newly crowned King. After that is done they are all dismissed. ‘’Y/n. Please stay here.’’ The use of just your name makes your hair stand up. It is intimate, almost familiar.

You freeze.

Aemond finally rises from the throne, a smile on his lips. You wait and remain where you are. He does not beckon you closer, so you remain there. He walks closer to you until he is in front of you. He looks at your gown, taking in the details of the bodice. ‘’My condolences on the loss of your husband.’’ He whispers, gently.

You blink back tears. ‘’Can I go home now? We must write to my mother that the war is over. She can come collect her throne.’’ You look over to the ugly iron thing. Aemond chuckles, adoring your naivety and your good righteous heart.

He even reaches out to touch your face, gently caressing it and wiping away a few tears with his thumb. He brings his thumb to his mouth, sucking on it, tasting your tears. You watch, speechless. He grins. ‘’My gentle hearted sweet girl.’’ It sounds like a compliment and also an insult. ‘’I have no intention to stop the war. Your mother will sit on that throne when your brother Lucerys finds his head again. You will leave her in a coffin or when I am dead.’’ You scoff, insulted and step away, ready to leave.

He grabs you firmly by your arms, dragging you closer. You are pinned against his front, where you can still see blood on his shirt. His smirk only grows as you lower your head, avoiding his eye. He lifts your chin, forcing you to look up to him as you silently cry. ‘’I haven’t lost, you see. I have the crown, the throne, and you.’’ He does the unspeakable and leans in for a kiss, leaving a soft peck on your lips. He moans softly against your lips. ‘’My darling, my sweet precious thing.’’ He murmurs.

You give him a weak push against his chest, barely moving him. But it gets the message across. Aegon is not even cold yet. “I’m your brother’s widow!’’ You yell in righteous fury.

He laughs at that, capturing you easily with your hands again, and you hate yourself that you like how warm and fast his hands act. ‘’That means nothing in our family. You are my captive, Lady Strong. Remember? From the moment I first captured you at Storm’s end, until your very last. You are meant to be mine, so you will be.’’ He promises you. He is calm and collected about it as if is stating a fact.

He reminds you of the day when this all started. You don’t want to think back of that day. You tell yourself it is because of Luc, who Aemond fed to his dragon. But it is because of Aegon. You miss Luc, of course, but that wound had time to heal. Aegon’s loss is so sudden and just as painful, but fresh. ‘’I am not yours, you monster!’’ You raise your hand, striking Aemond on his scarred cheek.

He finally acts, grabbing your hands tighter and dragging you close until your noses touch. He is trembling with fury and his one eye is full of hatred, lust, obsession and cold blooded plans. ‘’Striking your king, is a act of treason.’’ He chuckles. ‘’I am allowed to punish you. I could take your hand for this, little lady strong.’’ You huff.

You roll your eyes even. Aemond hates the silent treatment more than any insult you could have hurled at him. Instead of making it clear what he intends, he scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder, marching you back to the empty throne. You kick and slap his back, trying to break free of his iron grip. He places you in the hands of a nearby guard, who all have been silent on this treatment of their rightful princess. Aemond sits on the iron throne and what he does next shocks you.

He grabs you by your hips, bending you over both his knees, as if you don’t weigh anything. He pets your hair lovingly and even gives your shaking body a kiss. ‘’I do this because I love you. You are in luck. You will always be able to defy me.’’ He whispers. ‘’All men who do so will meet horrible ends that Maesters will write about for centuries, but you, my special girl, you will be able to defy, rebel and upset me.’’ He whispers. ‘’Because I enjoy punishing you. And I bet you enjoy being punished.’’ You feel his hands on your butt, as he starts finding the beginning of your gown. You hear the sound of fabric ripping, and panic, bolting on his lap. He simply holds you down tighter, smirking as you begin to whimper. He calmly hums and with one brutal movement, rips your skirts. You remain on his lap, vulnerable and in your small clothes. Aemond sits up straighter, as if he wants to fully take in this view. Embarrassed, you lower your head in his lap, allowing him to caress your hair once more. ‘’Such a beautiful girl. You were wasted on my brother.’’ He speaks. ‘’You belong with me. You always have.’’ He then turns to his guards. ‘’Leave me and the Princess. She will pledge her loyalty to me in a private event.’’ You whimper as you hear iron footsteps leave the room.

When he is alone with you, he pulls your small clothes down fully, yanking them until your ankles, exposing you for all you are. It seems to awaken a certain hunger or desire in him, and he rips your corset and sleeves next. He fully admires your naked body, panting as he looks at you. He seems to calm down and finally he does what he promised. He hits you on your ass, spanking it harshly. You hiss in pain, in disbelief that he is subjecting you to this. ‘’Aemond, stop this.’’ You beg.

‘’You have no right.’’

He scoffs. ‘’I have every right. I am the King now. You were naughty, today. I don’t like naughty girls. Well, not as much as I like a good girl.’’ He says, talking to you as if you are a stupid little girl. Fresh tears fall. ‘’I like naughty good girls, who know what they want. But you aren’t there yet. You aren’t broken enough yet.’’ He says, joyfully as he spanks you. You give soft whimpers.

The spankings only become harsh when you remain silent, so you fake moans and whimpers to please Aemond’s dark desires. He sometimes groans too, as he sees how much damage your body is taking thanks to him, and how you take it.

“Aegon told me something before he died. He told me he never consummated the marriage. Is that true?” You wonder why Aegon told him that.

But it is the truth. You nod. “He knew when we first were forced to lay together I didn't want it.”

Aemond only chuckles to that comment, dealing another hurtful smack, almost as if to punish you for still loving his brother. “He raped plenty of women. I suppose you weren't special enough to make the effort.”

“Aegon loved me.” You argue, and you regret it the moment you’ve said it. Because Aemond slaps so hard that your flesh burns.

He groans now not of arousal but of pure hatred. “He didn't.”

“There's one man for you in this entire world.” You huff at his words.

You are grabbed by the throat, lifted from his lap and forced to stand as he chokes you. You are choked, tears stinging your eyes as he looks at you with the crown slightly slipping from his hairs and his one eye bigger than usual, focused on you, the object of his obsession. You fight for control but lose the fight. “It is me.” He reveals.

“No,’ You croak out weakly. “I can't. You killed my brother-”

He sighs, almost enjoying the view. His cold fingers finger one of your nipples, enjoying the reaction your body gives by hardening for him. He chuckles. “Such a beauty. Now. Defy me again.” You shake your head. He sighs, putting you over his knee again. You whimper against the cruel treatment, feeling the spot he struck. Aemond smirks, challenging you to speak out again. “I ought to keep you around like this. Just as the gods intended you to be. Pure, naked, unspoiled…” He feels the skin he struck. And you feel yourself clench your cunt, ignoring the waterfall he caused down there with all cost. It is true, Aemond is a handsome man. But this is wrong, isn’t it?

“May I please dress?” You ask, wiggling on his lap, enjoying when his thigh briefly rubs your cunt. That hits the spot.

The King laughs. “Such an obedient girl for asking me first.”

“The answer is no, however. You struck me, remember? That is treason.” You are embarrassed to speak. He laughs at that, rubbing your legs, drawing circles and kissing your skin. You ignore the butterflies. You can’t.

‘’Stand.’’ He barks suddenly. You obey, standing on your shaking legs, exposing yourself now fully to him. He leans back in the throne, grinning brightly as he takes in your body, toe to head. ‘’You can defy me as many times as you like. I will gladly put you on my lap and spank you.’’ He whispers. ‘’But if you say something regarding the whore that mothered you, I’m afraid we must do a different type of punishment. Am I clear?’’ You nod, hating how frightened you are.

He softens his face. He beckons you closer. You come closer until you stand in front of throne, your cunt barely touching the iron. ‘’I wish to feel your wares. I must see myself, If you and Aegon kept your word.’’ Without a warning, his fingers sink inside your wetness, inspecting you as you stand on your legs, almost falling over.

‘’Please, make me sit.’’ You beg.

He grins, forcing his finger to go deeper, penetrating you at the right speed. “No, you'll stand, tall and proud. I bet this is just what a dirty bastard like yourself likes. ‘’ It takes a while but sadly, he discovers what is happening. ‘’Oh, just as I suspected. A wet, warm and wonderful little place for my seed to crawl inside of.” You wail at those words, aroused as he fucks slowly, taunting you with his fingers.

“Stop talking as if we are going to -” Your talking is interrupted by a smack on your cunt by his free haunt, causing you to cry out in pain and anticipation.

He glares at you, shaking you as if you aren’t awake yet.

“As if? You think I'd kept you as a pretty cup bearer or something? I plan to make good use of you. Every hole is stuffed, until you can't even crawl forward.” He promises.

“What if I will have a child?” you whisper. ‘’That would complicate your status.’’

He sees that differently, mad with lust and obsession.

“That is part of the fantasy. Breeding you makes me happy. Seeing your belly swell makes me happy. You know why?” He asks, softly patting your belly. You shake your head.

“No.”

He leans in, gesturing vaguely down to his legs.

“It proves my seed is strong, powerful and well. It proves I have the power to make you, a stunning powerful princess to a good for nothing whore, carrying a bastard inside of her womb.” You sniffle, hurt and insulted. “Judging your wet and warm cunt, you have been thinking about me too. Why don't you admit that you want this?”

“Because I loved him. I loved Aegon. That means something to me.”

Aemond growls. “Shame he didn't love you. You know it deep down. He didn't mention you at all when he died-” You push him off you, taking off to the doors, not caring he ripped your gown or your poking breasts begging for touch.

“Where do you think you'll be going?” He demands, his voice booming.

You raise your head as much as a princess and dignity as you can. “To my quarters until you decide to trade me for peace.”

“Peace?” He laughs. Then that laugh dies. “Peace!’ It scares you how quickly it became an almost command. “You have exactly 3 seconds to get over here and to kneel at my feet and to beg me for forgiveness-” You don’t let him finish and take off running. But he is faster.

He simply drags you back by your hair, giving your behind hurtful smacks as he drags you to the throne. ‘’Ungrateful bastard. I can make you my queen.’’ He growls. ‘’Why won’t you accept that you want this? Look how wet you are for me.’’ He thinks as you remain at his feet, sitting there as a dog. ‘’I know something. We must train you, to ensure you are a proper pet.’’ He grins. One of the servants is allowed in, to bring Aemond a piece of rope.

You are worried he is going to tie your hands. But his plans are far worse. He ties the end around your neck, and holds it, as a leash. “Such a stubborn girl.” He chuckles. ‘’Now if you try to run, you’ll feel it.’’

“Please untie my neck.” You whisper, softly.

“Why? You can't behave, clearly. I must make the rules clear somehow.”

He has gone insane.

“Untie my neck, I'm worried I'll choke.”

“You know, when the right person is doing it, choking, taking control of another person's breath, nay, life, can feel…amazing.”

In response you spit at him.

“Spitting at me, you are a vile dirty minded thing, are you not? I bet you just ache for someone to pin you down against the floor and to have his wicked way with you. Don't you, bastard?” He growls, handling you.

“I want Aegon…” You whisper, half a beg and half a prayer.

He almost slams your head against the throne in pure rage. You can tell he is close to losing it. “Why? Why do you want that disgusting raper. You have me. You have all you will ever need.” He says. Then he sniffs your breasts, his long nose and hair disappearing between your breasts. “Fuck, you smell so good. So inviting. I can smell that needy cunny of yours.”

He stands up, keeping the leash in his dominate hand. ‘’I bet if I took my cock out you’d be fucking it before I could even ask you to.’’ He grins. ‘’You are your mother’s daughter after all.’’ To prove his point he lowers his trousers, revealing his manhood to you.

You are caught off guard. You never saw one before and it looks so strange yet familiar. “Look down.” He pushes your head down so you can properly.

It is red and swollen and evil in all ways. You try to glance at Aemond but your eyes are almost glued to his manhood. He snickers amused at your virginal response. “You'd like to feel this down your legs, little bastard?” He asks, and you are shocked when his fingers find your entrance once more, and now your soaked little cunt can’t even handle this. You moan, crying of shame and desire.

Aemond grins, taking it as a sign of encouragement.

“Get on your knees.” you obey, eying his cock. You wonder if it’ll hurt. But part of you wants to just feel good and happy for a moment. “On all fours.” He adds, groaning in frustration.

“What is expected of me?” You whisper soft as you kneel for him in the throne room. Aemond finally leaves his throne, so he may join you.

Silence. “I can't…I'm a princess. My virtue is everything to me-”

He laughs. “I can't wait to fuck you, so you for once and for all will shut up about your prestige and your privileges. You will learn, my sweet that I decide what your worth is now. Now, I am going to ask.”

You shake as his fingers brutally Bury themselves in your untouched tight cunt. “Do you want me to be the bad man today, little Maella? Do you wish to get your cunny raided by me, here, in the throne room, on your knees, as a little dirty harlot?’ You fall to your knees, crying out as the penetrating reaches a hight, as does your pleasure. You touched yourself but never like this. Not like he does. And his dirty naughty talk..

“Do you want to feel my cock take root and to feel me penetrate away at your innocent soft rings as they wrap and tighten around my cock as I take you on the stones, your knees bloody and your vision blurry as I bring you close?’

“Do you want that?”

You begin to doubt and he knows it. So he softens his voice, for show. “It can feel so good, Maella. You know I've won. You know it. You are already naked. You are already kneeling. All I need to do is put my cock……” He parts your legs. He rubs your needy cunt causing friction as you frustrated cry out. “here…’’

You nod pleasure winning. ‘Yes.’’ You say, consenting at last. He does not need long. He drags his finger nails in your hips, bringing you closer to his front. He sits on both his knees, as he slams inside of you, fucking you with a brutal war cry. You gasp as the cock pierces through your maidenhood, ruining you for any other man. Aemond groans in delight at your gasps, fucking you harder for every bit of sound you make.

“Oh, you're deep…” you mutter, a bit foolish.

He chuckles. “You'll handle me just fine. Any woman is a bit as a frightened stag, wishing to bolt off when a man climbs her. It is his task to smooth her back into submission so the ride may be…pleasant.” You wonder if he enjoys it the way you do. But when you hear his grunts and moans you know he does.

“Just as much of a slut as your mother.” He whispers and quickly gives you a kiss to avoid your anger. “Taking it all so well. You're a natural love.”

The fucking reaches a height your innocent body cannot handle, as Aemond comes closer to, and the fucking becomes violent, with him choking you as well now. “Meant and made to be on your knees, cock deep inside of your cunt and getting fucked until you can't crawl out of your bed tomorrow.” You gasp, your cries and soft moans filling the throne room, high on pleasure. “Agree.” He hisses, suddenly. For someone who claims not the care about others, he sure seeks a lot of approval.

You know you must obey. You know it deep down. So you swallow your pride. “Y-yes Aemond.” You say, obediently.

He spits at that idea. “You will call me King Aemond or your Grace.’’ He smacks your ass, sinking a finger deep there too. You buck your hips to him, eager for more.

You need to feel good, more than anything, you need to feel alive. ‘’Aemond, your grace, please..”

That pleases him greatly. “So fast, little girl? This is just the tip of the mountain, dear. There is so much more for you left.” He promises, planting dark desires in your head.

“There is?”

He nods. “Hmm,” He smacks your butt in a playful manner. “This is fun, but this is not the way a baby is made. I must stuff you properly for that. And there's your face…” You turn to face him, cock slightly sliding out of you in the process.

“What of it?” You ask, worried there is something stuck between your teeth.

You aren’t prepared for the answer. “It looks so clean. A nice, white and shimmering substance would look amazing on it. Something like my cum?”

“O, I don't know…” you stutter, foolishly.

You do know. But you won’t tell him that. “That is the beauty of your new life. You no longer need to know. I do. I'd love to see your cunt, breasts, belly, cheeks, chin, butt and hole covered in my cum.” He confesses. It is taking so long.

So you buck your hips to his front, hoping he mounts you soon once more. Aemond merely watches, grinning. “Taking me now, aren't we?”

“I do what you want. Just…give me…” You are at the breaking point. You are close.

Aemond slams inside of you, fucking you up and down the tiles as you scream it out in pleasure and he hisses, likely near too. “This?”

You roar in approval as pleasure explodes and you cry out in a soft voice. Aemond can be heard chuckling. “That's it, beauty. You keep being good, and I'll give you that and more.”

“Please, my King…” you whimper. “I can't…I can't handle it anymore. I need to ..I need it now.”

The King laughs, enjoying your suffering and your pleasure.

“Such a demanding little brat, demanding to come before your king.” The Spanking you get now is not punishment. It brings you pleasure and therefor shame. You nearly whimpered at it, but at the same time you enjoyed the smack on your naked ass.

And he bows your head down, and gives you the one after the other hard rough trust that only raises your pleasure. As the fucking increases, your needs reach a height unfamiliar to you and you stop, waiting for it to fade as you usual do when you touch yourself. Aemond sees this as the moment to strike, fully claiming you with a rough war cry and a trust. You fall down from your pleasure and come, all over his red swollen cock as he rides his own orgasm out on your spent body. The King is not happy yet, and fucks your body two more times after you are done with it.

When he is done, he finally removes the rope. You sit up, watching the tiles you fucked upon, sweaty and stained with your blood. Aemond cheekily grins, dressing himself again quickly. You look around for anything to cover yourself with. He throws his leather bloodied coat your way. ‘’Here. Cover. I don’t wish you to catch a cold.’’ He says. You think back of Aegon. And guilt washes over you.

The door is opened and a soldier rushes inside the room. You attempt to cover yourself but it is too late. ‘’My king.’’ He begins but Aemond does not allow him to finish.

‘’You saw my lady naked.’’ He says, instead of listening to his trusted soldier. The soldier blinks.

‘’I,I didn’t!”’ He quickly blurts out. Aemond does not even bother to explain his motivates, you can only watch as he takes his sword and chops of the head of the soldier. Blood and flesh come free as treat and paint painting the Throne room. You are horrified that Aemond murdered a man for looking at you.

You scream in horror. Aemond walks to you next, sword still dripping with blood. He levels the sword at his lips and takes a lick, before kissing your forehead. ‘’He had to die. Only one eye may look at your body. Mine.’’ He says, kissing you again as if it calms you down. It only makes you panic.

He sighs, taking you back to the throne. He makes you sit but this time there’s no spanking. Only sweet kisses and heartbroken mutters. ‘’What can I ever do to compare to Aegon? I want your love, my love. I want you to weep over my dead corpse.’’ He whispers. ‘’I want you when we marry, to become so madly in love with me, that when they find my corpse on the battlefield, you become mad and consumed with grief and you carve off one of my fingers to keep it close to you and you never think of a marrying another. I want you to die from a broken heart.’’ He whispers. ‘’I offer you the world, my love. It is ours. From Westeros to Essos and from the Dothraki grass sea to the useless kingdom of Dorne. It will fall at our feet, crumbled into dust. Thousands will die at our command, and their bones will become your crown and throne. Their blood will be your gown and their flesh will feed our love. Whoever offends you, shall die first. Let me be your King, and you will never need anyone else again.’’ You know you don’t have a choice. Once you cared about innocents. But you don’t have the luxury to care about them anymore. You must survive.

You play along for now.

Be Aemond’s Queen.

His second in command, the mother of his children, his lover and his bedmate.

To him you will be bow…

At least for now.

One of the days soon coming…

You’re going to take that boy’s crown.

//Not even therapy can fix this im afraid.

119 notes · View notes

sunnybunnyy2 · 6 months

Text

Two Wrongs Don’t Make A Right

Daryl Dixon x platonic!reader

Negan Smith x daughter!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.0k

TIME: season 7

Warnings: imprisonment, talk of rapists(briefly), talk of murder, mentions of Abe’s and Glenn’s deaths, arguments, mentions of saviours, mentions of what transpired in season six and seven, spoiler warning and bad writing.

CHAPTER 2 of the Dark Cell series

Series Masterlist Official Masterlist

This is long awaited! I'm sorry that this has taken so long but I have been making fanfics on Wattpad recently and if you are a fellow fanfic writer you understand how much unnecessary time it takes to come up with ideas and lines to make your character come to life. Thank you all for being so patient with me! Also, requests are open, and I will be redoing my master list, so look out for that. I have been influenced so yes, this is going to become a series so stay tuned! Now that I finished this part I have more motivation to actually write for this! I’d you want to be tagged in the series let me know! Thank you so much for reading<3

(if there is third person slip ups I’m sorry, I’m just so used to writing in third person :( )

The exchanges took place every night at around 1 a.m., and it had for the past seven days.

You would arrive carrying a plate or bowl of whatever leftover food you had managed to swipe from the kitchen or some dinner from the meals you would share with Negan.

You had aimed to make the food before you went down so that it was still hot but it was risky as, there was a large chance that one of Negan's men would notice and alert your father, which would raise suspicion.

The food consisted of Sandwiches, chicken, pasta, fish, soup and wraps.

You wished you could do it more often, but you knew that it would largely increase the chances of you getting caught.

You knew your punishment wouldn't be anywhere near how severe Daryl's would be. You also knew that as much as you pleaded your father would allow his pawns to have their fun in harming the long-haired man. You weren't quite sure why your father's men were so willing to starve and beat a man senseless to appear strong. Men and their egos you supposed.

Your father could preach all he wanted about how he would do anything for his daughter, how he would move mountains to appease you. How he would kill anyone who dared to disrespect you (he had) but yet he couldn't try and be a better man. He couldn't put his rage and grieve the wicked world had caused him and help people instead of torturing broken people and turning people who wanted to survive into heartless killers. Turn them into him.

You couldn't say you hated your father. You never could. But that certainly didn't mean you agreed with half the things he did.

You could tell he cared what you thought of him. You were the last thing he had of your mother, but that didn't mean he listened to you when you expressed your opinion.

You and your father were close before all of this happened, well before you found out about his affair. After that day you hated everything about him. Even when your mother got sick and he stood by her, did everything for her. You weren't sure if it was because of how guilty he felt for betraying her or because he loved her.

Normally you would insist on it being the first but now she was at a loss.

Since your mother's demise, your once childish but thoughtful father had turned into a power-hungry greedy man. At first you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was grieving and was trying to find a way to cope with the loss of the woman he loved but it was as though he was forgetting that his daughter had lost her mother.

He wanted to make you happy, so he gifted you the biggest room in the sanctuary and allowed you to purchase whatever you desired without working, though you often helped with the growing crops in the back of the sanctuary. Your father never really liked the idea of her around the fence but he backed down after a heated argument between you. He did send some of his men to keep an eye on you, he tried to be discreet but his men were less than.

You always made sure to bring a large glass of tap water from your room down to his cell, wanting to at least make sure he didn't die of dehydration.

You knew that his physical health wasn't as bad as it was before but you knew that his mental health was still declining. He had been locked in the tiny cell for weeks on end, the only sound filling his ears was the constant lyrics of the song 'East Street'.

The bags under his eyes were proof enough of the lack of sleep he had been receiving. The way his eyes could barely focus on one thing when you would bring him his meals was another important factor in your conclusion.

Since your visits had become more frequent he had uttered his name quietly into the comfortable silence that had filled the cell as he hastily inhaled what was in front of him. It was so quiet that you had barely heard him, but once you realized that it wasn't your imagination you smiled softly to yourself before muttering your name as well.

In your mind, you were friends. You knew his name, he knew yours, you would bring him food, he would be thankful and you were both the highlight of each other's day.

Daryl- because he wasn't rapidly dropping weight as he had been before from his lack of food, which in turn kept his brain running so he could coax his thoughts into coming up with a plan to escape his captivity. Plus your company wasn't so bad he reckoned.

You- because you got to meet another survivor from a rivalling group, you had heard your father angrily ranting to his soldiers about how this mysterious group had taken out one of his many posts and killed everyone in it.

You were shocked at how brutal this group could be but you knew that your father could be even more heartless and it was proven when a week later whispers were passed along through the sanctuary that your father had partaken in another one of his lineups and had bashed in two members of Daryl's groups heads in with Lucille.

You knew that Daryl's group had killed countless people, saviours but at least their families and friends didn't have to see it, as apparently the people from the outpost were killed while they slept. It was a very cowardly way to kill but it was better in a way, they didn't see it coming.

You clutched the tray of food which consisted of a slice of ham from a pig the saviours had recently slaughtered as a way to celebrate the new community they had under their control, standing with the other few that they had taken over. With a side of carrots that you had picked herself to give him some energy.

Then finally a generous helping of mashed potatoes to fill him up, as you knew that a small sandwich was going to get him through the day. Well, you guessed it was two, as Dwight had made sure to feed him a dog food sandwich every other day to keep him going. A dark pork gravy from the brand Bisto (clubhouse is better but whatever) that was covering a large portion of the potatoes. Your father did always say that you made it taste even better when you made it.

Your eyes peeked around the sharp corner to make sure Arat was on her way to her break that she always made sure to hide, always quick on her feet to head to her room to get several strong minutes of shut-eye.

Your eyes caught sight of Arat quietly creeping her way further and further away from Daryl's new home. You waited a couple of minutes until you were sure she was in her room, possibly already captivated by sleep. You placed one foot in front of the other as you too, crept down the hallway, the fear of getting caught burning fear into her veins.

You balanced the tray on one hand as you reached into your left pocket, to pull out the cell key that you had stolen from Laura, well it wasn't quite stealing, she had dropped it and hadn't even noticed. You could still remember her confused face when she caught you on the ground after catching you mid-grab. You smiled at her and played it off as if you were tying your shoe, which she bought as she shot you a smile and continued on with her ranting.

You turned the key clockwise into the rusting metal, smiling in satisfaction when the lock clicked quietly as a sign that it was now unlocked.

The creak that was loudly pulled from the door as it was opened left you cringing as you quickly shuffled into the room, closing the door until there was only a fragment of it for a little bit of light but it wasn't large enough to draw suspicion towards your meetings.

You could already see Daryl gazing up at you as you pulled the door closed, before lowering yourself to the floor, holding your hands out as a sign for him to take the plate which he did. He had loosened up a large amount since you had started being him food a week ago.

He was still stand-offish and didn't like to talk about his group which you didn't blame him for, you were with the enemy, you were his daughter. You weren't sure if he knew of your status at the sanctuary but if he did, it didn't come from you. It had already taken a great amount of effort to gain his trust and you wouldn't want it broken just because of who your father was.

If he brought it up, you would talk to him about it, but for now, you didn't want to risk losing one of the only people that didn't just suck up to you because they wanted more points or because they were scared to face your father's wrath if they hurt your feelings.

"Hey, sorry I was late, Arat took longer than usual to hit the deck." You quickly explained as expected the food in a curious glint in his eyes. "It's ham. Sorry, I didn't know if you liked it but they just killed a pig and me and my-... I had some for dinner earlier, it was good... and there's potatoes obviously, there's some cheese in them too with carrots and gravy." His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you in question just as he had been since you had almost slipped up. "Don't worry, it's not poisoned well... at least I hope it isn't because I ate the same thing but I guess we'll find out."

He let a harsh breath out of his nose that sounded similar to a laugh before he picked up the metal fork before shoving a large bite of potatoes in his mouth, a barely audible groan fell from his lips as he continued to inhale the food, not even bothering to use the knife that you had brought to cut the meat, opting to just pick it up with his hands.

If it was anyone else you would find the wild eating disgusting, but you understood. He was being starved as a torture method to force him into submission. You had seen this countless times, but nearly all had caved within the first few days. It was shocking to you how strong he was. If it had been you... you weren't sure how long you could last if you were in the same position.

From how wild he was eating you could only assume today wasn't the day he got fed from Dwight.

You assumed you did well with the amount of food you had given him.

You kept your eyes trained on the opened part of the door to make sure the coast was clear still. Normally this side of the sanctuary was almost always deserted, but since Daryl as been held here, you had noticed a lot of working people wanted to catch a glimpse of one of the Alexandrians who had killed numerous soldiers. You weren't sure if was from fear or awe.

"Why are you doing this." He asked as he looked up from his half-eaten plate of food, to examine you while you spoke as if to see if you would lie to him.

"I don't like how he's handing this. I mean... what your group did was wrong. Really wrong. But what he's doing to you isn't right. No one should have to deal with this. I mean other than rapists, pedophiles, or child killers. I mean murder is really bad but there are some ways to excuse it, like self-defence but I mean the worlds over. People kill each other every day to survive. Don't make it right but it makes sense. You did what you thought you had to, to 'save' your group." You ranted slightly as you looked down.

"So you're doing this because I deserve better?" Daryl asked with a quiet snort as though he couldn't fathom the thought of someone actually thinking he was a decent guy.

"Everyone deserves better in some way. But no, some people just need a little help sometimes. You do, so I'm trying to help you." You said as watched him proceed with eating.

He looked up at you after he took yet another bite of his food. "I ain't need no help." He dismissed with a huff as he finished the last of his food.

"Obviously you do. Everybody does. You're no exception." You disagreed as he watched for any signs of Arat possibly returning earlier than usual.

"So why ya helping me? I'm sure the big man has more bitchs." He all but growled as he thought about your father causing your face to drop slightly as he kept your eyes away from him, in hopes of him not being able to see your full life story from just the shine in your eyes. Daryl looked like the type to be able to, you thought.

"He has some other... people in cells-" You were cut off by Daryl as he let out a dangerous scoff that should have had you scared. You were in a closed space with someone who wanted your father dead, I mean sure he didn't know that you and the man he hated most shared the same blood but it didn't matter. You were a Smith and that would never change. No matter how much you hoped and prayed that your father would suddenly turn a new leaf, it never seemed to happen. So at some point, you just saved your previously wasted breath.

"Ya mean prisoners?" He spoke sharply, his words not a question but a statement, showcasing how enraged he truly was with her father.

"Yeah...prisoners. There is some down here, yes. But they deserve it." You said while shaking your head as you thought about the awful people that were locked down here.

"Ain't nobody deserve this shit." He said with his whole chest as his eyes scanned your face with a mixture of hate and disgust at your words. You couldn't blame him though, he was locked in a cell and you had just said that the people locked in them deserved it.

"They're awful people. Rapists, child killers, people who kill without reason-"

"I ain't no rapist and I ain't no child killers. Me and my people had every righ-"

"Nobody has a right to take someone's life. Who made us god? When did we get to choose who got to live and who got to die?" You argued as you furrowed your brows at the man's words.

"How bout' ya tell yer buddy that? He killed my friends." He raised his voice louder than necessary which earned him a dirty look from you as you peeked out of the sliver of the door that shined light into the cell and once you were sure no one was coming with guns raised you turned back to face him.

"You killed dozens of his men while they were sleeping. You do realize that, right? I'm not saying what he did was right either, but you're lucky he didn't kill more of your people." You ranted slightly as you looked at him in confusion, he was so stuck in his own misery that he wasn't thinking about how other people were affected by his and his group's actions.

"Lucky? He bashed my friend's heads in." He said angrily but it was quiet. As if trying to scare you into submission but you didn't back down.

"And I'm sorry for your friends. I really am. But you couldn't have thought that your group could get away with slaughtering- and it was a slaughtering, his men and get away scot-free. You killed his soldiers. He takes that shit as a personal attack. So when I say I'm surprised he didn't kill more of you I mean it."

"One of my friends' wives was pregnant' ya think she deserved ta see that? Now tha' kid's gonna grow up without a father."

"Of course not. That's awful and I'm so sorry...but some of the men and women you slaughtered had kids. Wives. Parents. They had people who loved them too. One of the men, Mike, had a pregnant wife at one of the other outposts. She was eight months and gave birth to her baby girl two days after he died. Alone. And a woman, Mel, just got married to the man she loved, they were trying for a baby... He killed himself last week. Hung himself in his room all alone." You paused for a moment to see if he was going to speak up but when he didn't, you continued.

"An-and a woman named Willow had a baby at another outpost. Now that baby has to grow up without a mother. Another man named Carlos was an only child and had to work for points to provide for his parents. They're old and can't do it themselves. Now they're barely eating and are so depressed that their health is deteriorating, we're not sure how long they have left. So I'm sorry that your friends lost people they cared about but you didn't just get your group hurt with your guy's actions. You guys ruined so many lives that night."

You finished your rant as you shook your head, looking up at him only to see him looking down at his hands, his overgrown hair hung low to cover his eyes, masking his true reaction.

"I'm not trying to say that your friends' deaths don't matter but you can't just go around acting like you didn't kill people either. Like everyone else's pain doesn't matter to not feel guilty. But it does." You said quietly before deciding you had spent long enough in the stuffy cell. You reached over, grabbing the plate from in front of him before pulling yourself to your feet. You waited for him to speak again but he didn't bother and once you turned around he noticed that he hadn't moved from his place.

"Good night." You shook your head before he pulled the creaky door open a little more so the gap was large enough to fit your body through, closing it until you felt the metal clank quietly against metal.

You pulled out the key and shoved it into the lock, twisting it quickly before you heard quiet footsteps walking down the hallway from where Arat had left from. It seemed like you had left at the perfect time, you supposed.

You quietly but hastily quickened your pace until you were at the same corner you had looked over from around fifteen minutes prior.

You watched as Arat ran a hand over her short black and bleached blonde hair as she let out a yawn, swaying on her feet slightly from the over-tiredness she was experiencing, which was probably in full swing by the shortness of her sleep.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief before you quietly made your way in the direction of her room, the plate held tightly in your grasp as you walked past the mostly deserted sanctuary, sending a small smile to some of the saviours on watch duty. Most sent one back your way, while others seemed annoyed at the fact that they had duty at all, leaving them too aggravated to bother.

You were about to turn the handle of your door when you heard a voice stop you.

"Baby? What are you doin' up? It's late." Your father's voice stopped you in your tracks. A part of you wanted to run into your room and pretend that you had been sleepwalking but you knew your father knew you better than that and could almost always tell when you were fake sleeping. It was an odd talent if you were to be frank. So you turned around with a smile and spoke.

"I couldn't sleep. Decided to take a walk." You lied.

"With an empty plate of food?" He asked with raised eyebrows a sarcastic smirk on his face.

"...I got hungry on the way. Just heated up some leftovers from dinner. Didn't know that was a crime, Dad." You huffed in an attempt to sound believable.

"It's late. You could have woken me up. I would have walked with you." He said as he studied you.

"Seriously, dad? Literal armed guards are crawling the place. I think I'm okay walking to the kitchen. Plus you barely sleep as it is." You rolled your eyes at his mindset.

"I always have time for you, hunny... so who's the boy? Or girl. I don't discriminate. Hell, ya could be in love with a goddamn pumpkin and I would still approve. Maybe a little weirded out but hey, we all have our kinks." He smirked but his nose scrunched up slightly as he realized he was talking to his daughter and not one of his henchmen.

"Oh, wow, you figured it out. His name is Donteatmyseedsplease. I didn't want to keep it from you but I don't think you would approve. I'm so very glad I have your support, father dearest." You said in an overly happy voice even your eyes rolled with almost every word you spoke. You turned back to your door and turned ten knob, not going in as though to not give your father the opportunity to join you.

"You'll have to bring him over for dinner sometime we'll have squash."

"That wasn't funny Dad."

"Damn, you know how to wound a man's ego. Good girl, I taught you well." He said in a proud tone.

"I'm exhausted. Can we talk tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you about something actually..." You spoke as you pushed your door open even wider than it had been and started to make her way into your large room.

"That's never good." He groaned before he leaned over to land a kiss atop your head. "I'll see you tomorrow, baby. I'm busy but I always have time for you." He pulled away and sent a smile your way which you returned before closing the door and leaning against it. A sigh of relief left your lips as you realized you were in the clear.

TAG LIST: @cult-of-norman @book-place @ilovespiderpeople @kazunish @mysouleaten

(let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list for the future chapters!)

#the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon x platonic!reader #negan smith x daughter!reader #The walking dead x platonic!reader #The walking dead xteen!reader #daryl dixon x reader #Dark cell series

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acewritesfics · 6 days

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Never Stopped Loving You | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: From anon

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions of war, heartbreak, jealousy (?), a tiny little bit of Grace bashing but just so you know this is based between season 1 & 2 (more towards season 2) so readers dislike towards Grace is after her betrayal not her death

Word Count: 2,276

Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Y/N watches from the other side of the Garrison as Tommy sits across from a woman, a pretty brunette she hasn't bothered learning the name of. She didn't hate the woman; she didn't even know her but she did pity her. In fact, she pitied any woman that came across Thomas Shelby. All but one. Grace didn't deserve her pity.

It's a business meeting, she knows that. Polly informed her yesterday during her visit to her home. She doesn’t know why Polly told her or why she cared to remember it. After the day she had going over last minute details for her sister's wedding, she wanted a drink before she went dancing with some friends and she'd been hoping to catch up with John to see if him and Esme needed any thing as they await the arrival of their new baby.

After ordering another drink, she looks back to her former lover and his new potential business partner and takes the woman in. There's no denying she's pretty but she can also see the way she's looking at him. It was the same way they all eventually look at him. Yes, she pities all but one woman that comes across him.

Thomas Shelby always had a certain charm about him. It wasn't just those stunningly beautiful blue eyes, high cheek bones, the scatter of freckles that covers his face, how impeccable he dresses, or the smooth tone of his voice that has the ladies enraptured by him. Even before the war, he knew how to get what he wanted, his main weapon being that silver tongue of his.

"Does he know that you're here?" She hears Polly say from beside her as she joins her at the bar. Polly orders herself a drink before she turns to face her, leaning against the bar.

"Would it matter if he did?" she answers with her own rhetorical question.

"You know nothing gets past him," Polly reminds her, picking up her drink off the bar and takes a drink.

"I did," she also reminds Polly.

Y/N had been one of those pitiful women who found herself under Tommy's spell. But back then they were just kids. Two fools who thought that not even a war could separate them. How foolish they were.

Before the war, it was good. Tommy smiled and laughed more, he was more loving and kinder to himself and those around him. He didn't have blood on his hands or a distant look in his eyes. His eyes sparkled with the good kind of mischief, a love for life and hopes and dreams that didn't include violence and him becoming a man to be feared of. He was a sweet man with a beautiful soul and so much like his mother. She'd fallen completely in love with him and when he proposed a month before war was declared, she didn't hesitate to say yes.

During the war, when he would come home for breaks, she could see and feel him putting up walls and becoming distant with her. The light in his eyes was slowly fading. He was less kind, less loving and less like the Tommy she'd fallen in love with. But she still loved him so much that she would stay beside him and be there for when he needed her.

But by the time the war was over, Tommy was but of a shell of his former self. Eventually the couple parted ways with Tommy acting as though their break up had no affect on him while her heart completely shattered into a million pieces.

Y/N couldn't stay in Small Heath after that. She moved to London for a year before coming back when she got a job offer from the Small Heath school only to witness Tommy fall in love and open up to another woman who would only end up betraying him. It was six months ago, she moved to Bristol to help her brother take care of his sick wife and three children. But now she's back again, not able to stay away from her home town. This time it isn't permanent. Her younger sister is getting married tomorrow, and she couldn't miss it, no matter how much it hurts to be back in the city that brought her so much joy and heartache.

"He's a fool for ever letting that happen," Polly says, letting her bitterness over their break up be known even though it's been a few years.

"We were both fools for thinking we'd make it through anything," she finishes her drink and places the empty glass on the bar top as she stands up from the stool she's sitting on.

"You know he's still got it," Polly says stopping her in her tracks as she begins to walk away from the woman who is like an aunt to her. "I watched him take it to the cut. He contemplated throwing it away but he couldn't bring himself to do it."

"Maybe he wants to use it for the next woman who falls under his spell," she says keeping her back to the older woman and leaves the Garrison.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss!” an elderly gentleman exclaims, handing Y/N a beautiful rose as she walks down the street to the store the next day. She’d forgotten about the silly day in the midst of rushing around to get things sorted for her sister’s big day, which just so happened to be today of all things.

Looking at the man and seeing his large smile, she couldn’t bring herself to disappoint the man. She takes the rose and smells it. “Thank you, sir. You’ve just made my day so much better.”

“Do you not have a valentine?” he asks her. “A pretty lady like yourself should have all the men falling to her feet.”

“Well, to be honest, even if there were I would still choose none of them,” she admits.

“Whoever broke your heart, he’s a right fool,” the man says.

“Oh, you have no idea,” she chuckles.

“If I wasn’t married to me Mrs., I would be your valentine.”

“Your wife is a lucky woman,” Y/N smiles.

“I’m the lucky the one,” he admits. “I’ll let you get on your way. You looked to be in a rush.”

“Thank you for the rose,” she thanks him and says goodbye as she carries on her way.

Entering the store, she grabs what she needs to, pays and heads back to her sister’s home, smiling the whole way.

“Where have you been?!” her sister shouts as she walks through the door. “I have to be ready and at the church in an hour. Where did you get that?”

Y/N’s eyes follow her sister’s gaze to the rose in her hand. “A lovely old man gave it to me.”

“Are you into older men now?” her sister teases. “I guess all the men your age are married now. What’s better than a rich widowed old man?”

“I’ll have you know, he was being nice,” Y/N frowns at her sister. In her time away from Birmingham, she’d forgotten her younger sister could be mean. “Clearly something you know nothing about.”

“I can be nice. So nice in fact, I've invited the only man you’ll ever love to the wedding.”

Y/N wants nothing more than to smack the smug smirk of her sister’s face but decides to play ignorant instead. “And who would that be?”

“Don’t play daft, dear sister,” she laughs shaking her head as she gets into her wedding dress with the seamstresses help. “Tommy, of course.”

“Well, don’t be too disappointed if he doesn’t show up," she says causing her sister to roll her eyes.

Tommy surprised Y/N. He'd come to the wedding. She could feel his eyes boring into her through out the ceremony. Keeping her eyes on the bride and groom, she tried to ignore it. Even now as she dances with her new brother-in-law, she can feel her former lovers eyes on her and as he stands behind her, his cologne invades her senses. It's the same cologne that she'd bought him for his last birthday they spent together.

"Mind if I cut in, mate?" His smooth voice reaches her ears as he asks Paul. Her body stiffens, her heart dropping into her stomach as her plans to ignore him and his overwhelming presence is dashed.

"Of course, Mr. Shelby," he smiles and steps away from her. She goes to stop him, only for Tommy to take his place.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice that you are back?" he asks, his arm moving around her waist as she takes one of her hands into his.

She hesitantly places her hand on his shoulders as they start to dance, "I was hoping you would be too busy to notice. You seemed rather busy last night."

He had seen her in the garrison the night before. If he hadn't been in the middle of a business meeting he would have gone after her when she left. Instead he decided last minute to accept the invitation to her sister's wedding, hoping he to get a moment with her.

"I saw you," he admits. "I was hoping you would stay long enough so I could speak to you."

"Is that why you're here?" she asks him, still knowing him better than anyone else.

"I had to see you some way," he tells her.

"There's nothing that needs to be said between us, Thomas," she removes his hands from her and steps back from him. Tommy was her first love. He was her only love and as much as she tried to move on from him, she couldn't. She leaves the dance floor and grabs her purse before leaving the venue without saying goodbye to anyone.

Instead of walking back to her mother's house, where she's been staying for the past week, she finds herself down at the Cut, under the bridge her and Tommy would sneak under when they first started their relationship.

As many of the happier memories with Tommy flood, her eyes begin to sting from the tears forming in them. The young couple had many happy memories with each other and they far outweighed the bad. Closing her eyes she remembers the way his lips felt against hers, the way his fingers would lightly trace circles on her skin when his hands slipped under her shirt and how tightly he would hold her against him as if he were afraid she would leave him.

Her eyes shoot open as she hears footsteps coming towards her, quickly wiping away her tears she tries to make her exit when the person comes into view. It's Tommy.

She finds her feet no longer want to work as she freezes on the spot. He looks just as surprised to see her. After a moment of just staring at each other, YN decides to speak.

"You were right about us needing to talk," she begins. "I've been wanting to say this for a while and you are going to listen and not say anything until I am done."

Tommy goes to interrupt her, opening his mouth to say something when she holds up her hand, stopping him.

"I love you, Tom, more than I've loved anyone," she tells him. "When we ended our relationship you we're supposed to fight for it. But you just stood there, a blank look on your face, saying nothing at all while my heart broke into a million pieces. You were supposed to fight for me, fight for us. Instead you fell in love with another woman who broke your heart and-"

"I love you too," Tommy says cutting her off as he steps closer to her. "You're the only woman I've ever loved. Grace didn't break my heart because it was already broken from the war and letting you go. She was only a distraction to stop myself from going after you. You deserved better than me and who I became. I wanted to give you the world, promise you things would get better, be the man who deserved you. I didn’t want to pull you into the mess I created. I loved you to much for that. You’re so innocent and good and I’m nothing but a bad man who does bad things."

“Not all of us are angels, Tom,” she says.

“But you are,” he tells her.

“Well then, I’m an angel who’s fallen in love with the devil.”

“And the devil just so happens to love her back,” he adds, his arms moving around her waist to pull her closer.

This time she lets him, no longer wanting to get as far away from his as possible. “We still have a lot to work through.”

“We’ll work through it all because I’m not going to let you go again,” he tells her. “I made that mistake once. I don’t plan on making it again. I’m going to make it up to you.”

“And you can start by kissing me like you use to under this bridge,” a small hint of a smile appears on her lips. “And then we can go from there.”

Tommy smiles, cupping her face and plants his lips on hers, kissing her softly as though he’s resting the waters. When she doesn’t reconsider, he kisses her harder and holds her tighter like he’s afraid she’ll leave him again. He ends the kiss leaving his lips only an inch from hers as he tells her, “I never stopped loving you.”

“I never stopped stopped loving you too,” she replies, pressing her lips back to his.

#acewritesfics repost #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader

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clairerosetarot · 8 days

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What is coming this month for you? PAC

Find out what is coming for you this month of May by choosing one or more picture from this PAC.

1 —> 2 —> 3

Decks used: Rider Waite Tarot, The Golden Future Orcale, Animal Spirit Orcale

———————————————11333————————————————

Pile 1 🌹🌸

Cards: 2 of Wands, 3 of Wands, & King of Wands

Intergalactic Travel, Planetary Cleansing Oracle

Brown Bear Sprit

Hello my pile ones! Here’s what I read, take what resonates and leave what don’t, if it don’t apply let it fly and let yourself be loved. 💛

So immediately what I saw for you was lots of wands energy coming from the deck! (I promised I shuffled and everything, lol!) this tells me that there will be lost of new energies coming in this month. I see lots of your creative energy bursting through and if you have been having any seasonal sadness or procrastination throughout these last few months you will soon be shedding that and a new burst of energy will be jolted into you.

With the conjunction of the 2,3 of wands as well as the intergalactic travel and planetary cleansing oracle I see that sprit wants a vacation/work trip to be underway for you. I sense this could be to a sunny place, maybe somewhere you have been saving up/think of for a while now while you were in the aforementioned winter sadness stage might be becoming further along in its process into the 3d babes! Maybe Hawaii/Singapore/Macau/Bali/Cancun?

If not that’s okay but I do see some networking opportunities opening up where you can share your passion with others who understand you.

With the brown bear and king of wands coming together in your reading, I see that you do need to take some action for this to happen, but sprit is going to make it easier for you! I’m hearing Miguel’s ‘Sure Thing’ here lol (great song! Listen to it if you haven’t!) but basically, spirit is saying “if you be the match imma be the lighter babe” Your guides want to match your energy!! Just make sure you are taking the time to show them what you want!

🌹🍀💚Extra Messages/Advice: Don’t overwork yourself, Mediate on what you want, 17 second visualization will help you, Goop, Brazilian Pride, Baa Baa Black Sheep, Chanel Capri, & Marley🌹💚 🍀

Pile 2 🌹🌸

Cards Pulled: 4 of Cups, The Lovers, The Hermit

Angels, Nature & Work Satisfaction Oracle

Canary Sprit

Hello my pile twos! Here’s what I read, take what resonates and leave what don’t, if it don’t apply let it fly and let yourself be loved. 💛

Ok so first things first, this is my work hard pile! This May you will definitely work harder towards your goals. I see you guys learning new money saving hacks an dI even feel compelled to say you might learn more about stocks/financial independence. Big money moves for the future happening!

I also can see some relationships, but not only romantic, more like friendships and new people you will vibe with! However with the Hermit in upright, you might not be a total buzzing bee and most of these relationships will occur online. Oh! Maybe you will meet some new people in like a online money making seminar or class where you will sign up for!

Future you will be thanking you for the slow but steady work you are putting in the May spirit says.

🌹🍀💚Extra Messages: Goat Shopping (?), Fragrance Signature, Cryptocurrency, TechNerd, Glasses, Neo, Big suit Energy 🌹🍀💚

Pile 3🌹🌸

Cards Pulled:

7 of Cups, Ace of Cups, Page of Pentacles

Travel and Spiritual Technology Oracle

Flamingo Spirit

Hello my pile threes! Here’s what I read, take what resonates and leave what don’t, if it don’t apply let it fly and let yourself be loved. 💛

So right away I see some of you could be quite shy or maybe not opening up your throat chakra these past days/weeks/months/even possible years for some you. Don’t worry, be happy, says spirit as you will entering a new phase that allows you to showcase that hidden social butterfly you have had within yourself awaiting to be bloomed.

Embarking on new Travel could definitely help you I’m hearing the song Living La Vida Loca and some of y’all could even be entering a lil’ ‘hoe phase’ LMAOO. Capri/Las Vegas could definitely help. And if any of you are at or above the legal drinking age, responsibly(!!) sipping on some pina coladas or margaritas never hurt anyone!

I also see that experimentation with new appearance changes (hair,clothing,makeup) could be on your mind and sprit says there is a reason for that. Your. Guides don’t want to change yourself, but rather unlock a new part of yourself that makes you feel free and comfortable. Some of y’all could suffer from social anxiety and aww babes I know how hard that can be! 🥹 You’re doing just fine but remember there is no benefit in holding yourself back. Your guides don’t want you to be afraid of anyone. Safely working with vibrant Goddesses who have found their power like Kali or Athena could be beneficial I’m hearing.

Annnddd if this resonates for any of you: the closet is where you pick your outfit of the day, not where we live in!

🌹💚🍀Extra Messages: Be Bright, RuPaul’s Drag Race, Vouging, Pedicure, First Class, Sex and the City, Hot Pink Liquid Lipstick, Suns out,Buns out! 💚🍀🌹

#divine feminine #meditation #spirituality #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #oracle reading #daily tarot #tarot cards #PAC reading #pick an image #pac tarot #pick a card reading

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adorethedistance · 1 year

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The Late Late Show - Bella Ramsey x Reader (18+)

General Masterlist

Warnings: (18+ only minors DNI) afab reader, smut, swearing, teasing, lmk if there’s anything else I missed.

Words: 2697

Summary: After a promotional appearance on the Late Late show, you and Bella confess your feelings for one another; your skepticism causes them to prove just how much they like you back.

A/N: It’s almost 1 am. I don’t feel like proof reading this. I want to be done with it. SO here we are LMAO. In all seriousness I’m really stoked on this piece and I hope y’all like it. It’s been a while since I’ve written a full smut so I’m a little rusty.

Pedro, Bella, and I are on the Late Late Show to promote season 2 of The Last of Us, and Mr. James Corden had the incredible idea to make us play ‘spill your guts or fill your guts’. In rehearsal the questions were all mundane and simple to keep the surprises for the actual show. Now that the questions are real, my anxiety has skyrocketed and I anxiously await my turn. So far, Pedro has had a sip of bird saliva and Bella has confessed who their least favorite person to work with in their career was. Now it’s my turn and I’m almost too anxious to comprehend the words coming out of anyone’s mouth. Bella turns the table slowly, watching my face and gauging my reactions to each food as it goes by.

“Y/n.”

“Hm.”

“For this question, I will give you…” They pause to think for a moment, “The one thousand year old egg.” I fight the urge to gag and Bella laughs deviously. They noticed the way I was particularly disturbed by it when we reviewed all the food options on the table for the camera. Bella laughs their adorable laugh after reading the question written on the cue card; I can’t stop the fake frown that’s appeared on my face.

“Which of mine and Pedro’s acting performances were the worst, and why?” The audience erupts into laughter, cheers, and groans as I contemplate how I can answer this question. “There is no way in hell I’m eating that.”

“Then you’ve got to answer.”

“I don’t know! I think you guys aren’t capable of bad performances.”

“Booooo.”

“Why are you booing me?!” I screech in surprise although I can’t help the smile forming on my face. Pedro jumps in,

“That’s a cop-out!”

“That is such a cop-out answer!” Bella laughs, biting their lip and resting their elbows on the table, displaying their hands that are sparsely decorated with rings.

“Why are you guys teaming up on me? This is so unfair. James, do something!”

“My hands are tied-”

“No, they are not it’s your show!”

“That one thousand year old egg isn’t getting any younger,” Bella quips, a devious smirk adorning their features. More laughter from the audience and I look back at Bella with pleading eyes. They raise their eyebrows to taunt me, clearly enjoying how I’m scrambling for answers. I bite the inside of my cheek and playfully glare. Another eyebrow quirk from Bella. On national television?

I cave, “Oh god. Okay, uh, Pedro. Maybe Mando? Since you’ve got the helmet on and we can’t really see your face emote a lot?”

“Kind of a cheat answer but I’ll leave it be,” Bella teases.

“Bella… Maybe Judy since you didn’t have too much on screen time so you weren’t given a lot to work with?” I attempt to calm my breathing as I wait for the other three to either approve or disapprove my answers. The jury is pleased with my response and I’m saved from eating the egg in front of me that is literally black and green.

We continue another rotation of questions going around the table until James takes us to commercial break. Bella, Pedro, and I stand from the table and head back to the couch for our actual interview portion of the show. It’s the last segment before we’re wrapped and I can’t wait to be finished so I can get out of this makeup and borderline black tie attire.

James gives us the standard questions that come with promoting a show and I find myself struggling to stay present. The way Bella moves their hands and the numerous rings that adorn their fingers are eternally captivating.

I want to just reach out and grab it. To hold their hand in mine and exist like that for as long as we possibly could. I want to hold them in my own and kiss them to show how much I care. I want to clench around their hands as I scream their name loud enough for anyone to hear. I want to bite down on exposed skin as they fuck me and tell me I’m their good girl. I crave Bella. I’ve always craved Bella.

“I think we’ve lost her. Y/n?” I hear James’ voice bring me back down to earth. My cheeks are a thousand degrees warmer as I realize I’ve been caught, lost in the fantasy of what it would be like to belong to Bella.

“What?” I ask when I zone back in. Everyone in the room laughs and I try to blink away my embarrassment.

“You play Dina, correct?”

“I do, yes.”

“This is a new character for this season, what can you tell us about her?”

“Yeah, so Dina is Ellie’s love interest in this part of the story,” I proceed to tell James the same basic spiel that I give every interviewer and he listens intently. He asks a few more questions about the characters and what it was like for the three of us to work closely on set. The interview goes over fun, smooth, and funny and before we knew it, the show was wrapped shortly after. Bella disappears almost immediately in search of a bathroom, leaving me with Pedro as James begins talking with one of his producers.

“Are you okay?” Pedro nudges my shoulder to get my attention. I nod rapidly which does not at all minimize his suspicion.

“Yeah, I’m totally good.”

“You were in space for the entire interview. What’s up?” He asks sincerely. Is this something I should tell him? Is this something I shouldn’t tell him? I’m at a loss for direction but Pedro’s reassuring smile reminds me that he is probably the best confidant on planet earth.

“It’s about Bella…” I start off slowly.

“Yeah, you really seem to like them.”

“SHHHH! Why would you say that so loud?!” I whisper shout which if anything draws more attention to us.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Pedro holds both hands up to try and ease my anxiety and I drop my shoulders to try and reel everything back in.

“You’re right, though. I do really like them.”

“Apparently.”

“So what do I do?”

“What do you mean?”

I scowl, “What do you mean what do I mean?”

“It’s obvious they like you as well.” I tilt my head back incredulously.

“What are you talking about?” Pedro laughs heartily before responding,

“I may not be the smartest person in the room but I’m not an idiot. I see how you look at each other. How they look at you.” My heart flutters with excitement. “It’s a huge crush if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Well, what do I do then?” I ask, and we’re back to square one. Pedro shakes his head at my obliviousness.

“You tell them you like them and then kiss!” He says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. Ever the optimist. As I open my mouth to speak, I cut myself off to see Bella has rejoined the three of us. A quaint smile paints their face and my heart flutters again tenfold.

“What’d I miss?”

“Not much from me but Y/n has something to say.” I go wide-eyed and look at Pedro in panic. If looks could kill he would be a dead man this instant. Bella nods at me expectantly and I feel a rush of anxiety in my core. I do my best to cover up the fact that I’m taking a deep breath to soothe my nerves.

“We should go somewhere… not… here.” Bella laughs at the peculiar rhythm of my speech but agrees and follows me backstage. In the dressing room that we shared when getting ready, I flick the switch that lights up the perimeter of lightbulbs around the vanity mirror. Bella senses the tension that’s practically radiating off of me and closes the door behind us.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay I just-” I trail off in search of the right words.

“...You just what?” Bella asks, gently.

Moment of truth.

“I really like you, Bella. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I’m anxious that bombarding you with this information could scare you away, and then we wouldn’t be friends anymore because it would be too awkward. So then I’d be losing not just my best friend, but also just you as a person and I’d hate for that to happen because I like you as a person too and I-”

“I’ve been waiting for this conversation.” Bella says smugly.

“-Have been so worried about- wait what?” As my whole rambling rant lead me to look down, my head snaps back up. “You’ve been waiting for this?”

“Mhm.”

“Would you care to share with the class?” I ask, facetiously causing them to laugh at the sarcasm.

“Pedro and I actually had a bet going for how long it would take you.” I frown at their words and blink away my confusion. Bella drops the smug smile. They stare at me and I feel my face heat up being under their intense gaze.

“You… don’t like me back?” I say, my heart sinking in panic as I had just bared my soul to them.

“Of course I like you back.”

“Well, don’t say that like it was obvious!”

“I made it pretty obvious.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“We spent Valentine’s day together.”

I open my mouth to protest but close it to consider maybe it wasn’t just a ‘Galentine’s’ hang out.

“But-”

“We literally woke up spooning when we had that sleepover.” I blink. Once, twice, and then shut my eyes completely to block out the visual of Bella’s face as I come to the same conclusion.

“Yeah, I guess it was pretty outright.” They simply nod a yes and I feel the weight of the world lifted off of my shoulders at once. “So, you like me?”

“Oh my god-” Bella rolls their eyes, and swiftly comes over to grab my face in their hands and kiss me passionately. Their lips on mine are the symphony of an orchestra that I’ve long awaited. Each movement of our lips, the rhythmic richness of percussion. Their hands tracing down the silhouette of my body, the sensuality of the brass. A desire-filled rush of blood coursing through my entire body, the serenity of the woodwinds. And the intensity of our feelings for one another becoming intertwined into one energy, the complexity of the strings.

I’m fully floating on cloud nine, drifting further and further away from the Earth and into the ethereality of Bella. The kiss started passionately and quickly becomes heated as the two of us revel in our lust for one another.

Bella grips my hair in their hand at the base of my neck, tugging the handful to break the kiss and tilt my chin upwards. They take the new access to kiss and suck the skin of my neck. Grazing their teeth over my larynx, biting into the side and sucking a harsh, clean mark into the exposed flesh. I groan and the sheer eroticism and grip the vanity counter behind me.

Bella’s ringed fingers gently grasp my hips, pushing me back to lean on the counter with more of my weight. They abandon the task of marking me, grabbing the fabric of my dress, pulling it up and cradling the hem of it in their hands at my hip sockets. All the while, they had sunken down to the floor, lustful eyes watching my face as they kneel on the floor.

“Can I?” They ask and I quickly nod yes as my mouth was too dry to form a verbal response. Lifting the hem of the evening dress over their head, Bella bites another hickey into my inner thigh. I squeak at the sensation. It hurts so good.

“Shhh. You’ve gotta stay quiet.” I nod rapidly as reassurance, temporarily forgetting they can’t see my face.

“Got it, sorry.”

“It’s okay, babygirl.” Bella then hooks their fingers into the waistband of the underwear I was wearing. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, anticipation dripping from my voice. They drop the garment to the floor and have me step one foot out of them. My left leg stays anchored on the ground as a point of support since the counter likely wouldn’t hold my entire body weight. Bella guides my right leg up and over their shoulder before they trace their tongue over my glistening core. I whimper out a noise of relief and my head drops back, readying myself for the ride of my life.

Their tongue traces through the folds, trailing up to draw my clit in their mouth. I let out a languorous moan. In an attempt to regulate my breathing, I pull in a deep breath of bliss. Bella expertly devours me and I feel myself pulsating from arousal. Judging by the smug hum of laughter I’m guessing they could feel the movement as well.

I grab the fabric of my dress around my thighs and lift the layers to keep Bella from practically suffocating. They continue, unphased. A euphoric cry escapes my lips when Bella presses two tantalizing fingers inside of me. My hand quickly covers my mouth to try and conceal the undeniable bliss of their hand working in tandem with their mouth. Each stroke of their fingers elicits a ragged moan from my throat and I fight so hard to remain quiet. Then, Bella’s mouth pulls off of my clit with an audible smack.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and come for me?” They ask earnestly and I nod rapidly. Anything to please them. The frantic nature of my response is satisfactory enough and they resume sucking on my swollen clit. I’m almost overstimulated from the pleasure of their mouth working with the rhythmic curling of their fingers. My moans increase tempo as I continue chasing the high. Bella beatifically bobs their head, moving faster to bring me closer to the edge.

Their fingers curve so perfectly against my g-spot and I fight the need to cry out in untamable pleasure. Stimulating the spot brings me closer and closer. I hold the collected fabric of my dress skirt in my left arm, and frantically reach down with my right. Bella masterfully maintains their pace, mouth and fingers working together while their other hand reaches up to interlace their fingers with mine. The thoughtful gesture is arousing in itself and I find my orgasm come to a peak.

I reside in this high for a moment before the waves of pleasure come crashing down over me. I finish with a strangled sob of gratification. Bella’s pace slows but they continue working me through the orgasm until the feeling passes. Once my clit stops pulsating, I feel them pull their mouth off of me with a most sinful pop. They leave our hands intertwined, but take the hand that was inside of me and lift the wet fingers to their lips, sucking off my remaining juices with great pleasure. I can’t help the laugh that escapes me, partly from disbelief but mostly from the residual high. They lock eyes with me and smile innocently, as if they hadn’t just sucked the life out of me in the best way possible.

Bella then wraps both arms around me and holds my body as tightly to their own as they can without hurting me. I then realize they’re doing this because my legs are trembling and they’re allowing me to use them as support. I’m grateful for the attentiveness and melt in their arms, wrapping my own around their shoulders. They hold me like this for a few minutes, and I smile knowing they would have remained there for hours if I’d asked them to.

“You were so good for me, pretty girl.” The praise is of the utmost comfort and I tuck my face into the crook of their neck. Placing soft, practically indebted kisses on their skin serves as a ‘thank you’ since I’m still very much recovering.

“I love being the only one to make you feel this good.”

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