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hamletthedane · 3 months

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I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

#shut up e #long post #Saturday thoughts #this has been in my drafts for a week haha #also this is the heart of why AI art feels so wrong #forget the discussion of copyright and theft etc - even if models were only trained on public domain they would still feel very wrong #because they’re not art. art is the labor of creation #even commercial art and art commissioned by the popes and kings of history: there is humanity in the labor of it #unrelated: I did not know living in the Bronx was now something to brag about. How the fuck do y’all New Yorkers afford this city???

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aureum-cordis · 3 months

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Lost & Found

Parental!DogDay & Child!Reader

A/N: Hey there! First post, I know, but I couldn’t help but share this. A friend of mine encouraged me to, so I hope other people like it as well! This is only the first part and I have much more planned for this story, I hope you enjoy! I know this ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but that may or may not be intentional. Find Part 2 here!

Spoilers for Poppy Playtime Chapter 3: Deep Sleep!

Warnings: Mentions of character death, blood, gore, and the like. Child experimentation will also be mentioned. This story will contain references to the information in the game as well, if uncomfortable with any of those topics then please proceed with caution.

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DogDay and the others knew well that something was amiss in the building, several of the Smiling Critters had sought him out due to the fact that he was the leader. CatNap was the only one that had been distant for a long time now, becoming something that he couldn’t recognize.

And then it happened. The Hour of Joy. The metallic scent of blood was something he could never rid his nose of, his ears still rang from the sound of screaming from both children and adults. The Prototype had clearly been convincing the cat of the Smiling Critters, for nothing but praises fell out for the creature amongst that dreaded red gas that poured out of his perpetually gaping maw.

DogDay had been able to reach the others first, encouraging them to not stand idly by and follow something as monstrous as The Prototype and his newly fashioned pawn.

It ended poorly, their rebellion was met with nightmarish hallucinations and a set of claws that sliced their bodies to ribbons.

Even they were not impervious to the red gas that covered the ground like a dense fog, announcing CatNap’s presence before he could be seen. Few of them remained, far less than what once was. They rotated hideouts regularly, knowing well that they had to keep moving to avoid CatNap’s patrols.

Currently, the place they had sought refuge in was some long abandoned room of the orphanage. Those that remained were silent.

CraftyCorn was frantically drawing something on a dirtied sheet of paper, the colors bleeding against her hooves as she struggled to keep a steady grip.

Bobby BearHug was huddled in a corner, clutching a blanket that was shredded in places and nearly fell apart as she held it to her chest, her body shook from silent sobs or perhaps fear of what would come.

DogDay himself was solemn, resting on the floor with his back pressed against the wall. They had just lost Hoppy days prior, or at least it had seemed like days. Any semblance of a concept of time was lost in this pit of despair, the inability to even catch a glimpse of light that wasn’t artificial was disheartening and disorienting. The others in the room were in no state to actively patrol, their minds in shambles and in various states of decay.

There was no optimism to be found, he knew that. Any attempt to even lighten the mood would be met with dismay and the kind of disgust that caused nausea to wash over oneself and clouded any other senses. They had lost far too many for any form of joy to be found.

CatNap may have been the one to end their lives, following the guiding hand of The Prototype, but their blood was also on his hands. Their screams kept him awake, the fear in their voices as they called out and weeped for help kept him going.

Slowly, he rose from his seated position to his feet, the sun pendant that hung from his zipper clinked against the metal with the motion and swung gently before resting against his chest. It was enough of a sound to draw the eyes of CraftyCorn, to which DogDay gave a dip of his head. “I’m sorry to startle you, that wasn’t my intention,” he started, voice rough and scratchy from disuse as he met the eyes of the other.

“I’ll take the first watch, be safe and try to get some rest, please.” The please sounded pathetic in his own ears, a sign that despite his attempts to remain strong for the other survivors, he was suffering from the grief and loss of their shared companions.

The idea of losing them too was something he refused to linger on, a small sliver of hope remained in his heart despite the horrors that threatened their very lives.

CraftyCorn didn’t seem to mind the interruption, even going as far as lowering her hooves as she looked over at him, the red crayon in her grasp rolled to the floor with a quiet thump. “Be careful, DogDay.” Her voice was soft, it was a comfort in this trying time. As gentle as the very petals of the flower she once smelled like, an extension of her kind yet hardy nature.

He wanted to reassure her, to give her some hope that he might return. But that wasn’t a guarantee, he knew that.

Regardless, he nodded before approaching the door, opening it slightly before listening carefully for any sounds. Relieved to have been met with relative silence, he crept through the door before shutting it behind him. Complete silence was impossible for him to achieve, given his size and the overall state of the orphanage itself.

His movements were slow and deliberate, each placement of his hand or foot was mindful of the debris that lined the halls. Shattered picture frames with glass littering the floor and various toys that had once belonged to the children here were a common item to stumble across. There had been moments when the odd toy activated or some rotting piece of wood snapped under the pressure of a bed that rested upon it, but it was silent other than that.

His ears were active in keeping note of his surroundings, as his nose focused on the horrible scent of lavender and the intensity of it. It stuck to every crack and crevice of this building, yet it was relatively faint at the given moment, a positive in an otherwise grim situation. His eyes swept every open door that he passed by, peering into the room for several moments before moving on. To say he was tense and alert was an understatement, every fiber of his being stood on edge as he patrolled the halls.

He froze in his tracks as a sound caught his attention, a sound that he hadn’t been expecting to come across. It had been a sob, a shuddering and weak sound that left from an open door in front of him. Had he not been focused as intently as he was, he could’ve missed it. DogDay stayed in that position as he listened further, making sure that he hadn’t been imagining such a sound. His doubts were shattered as he heard the sound repeat, the fear in the weeping was unmistakable.

The thought didn’t even cross his mind that it could potentially be a trap, that some sick monster would be willing to mimic such a heartbreaking sound.

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wanders-in-wonderland · 2 months

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My Roommate

It’s a typical Friday night, I’d made plans to go to a new club opening with some friends after work and I’m getting ready to leave.

Dressed in a short, skintight dress and heels, I’m just about to head out when I hear the front door open and see my roommate walk into our living room. His eyes sweep over me and I think I see his jaw twitch before he raises an eyebrow at me, “Going out?”

I smile brightly, grabbing my clutch and sliding past him to grab the door handle he’d just let go of. “Don’t wait up!” I cheerfully say as I spin out the door.

I catch him murmur something under his breath but I’m too far gone to notice. I spend the next few hours dancing, drinking, and partying with friends before I finally make my way back home, still a little tipsy and high on a wild night.

I stumble into the apartment, kicking my heels off as I step through the door. I’d been expecting darkness but instead, the lights are on and my roommate is sitting in the armchair in the living room, facing the door. I smile at him and walk into our kitchen to grab a glass of water.

“What are you still doing up?” My words are mostly clear but I can still feel the fuzziness in my head from all the alcohol I’d consumed tonight.

“I was waiting for you,” his voice is flat, with none of the friendly inflection I’m used to. “Hm?” I stare at him in confusion as I bring the glass to my lips, drawing thirstily from it.

I watch as he rises from his seat, walking towards me with purpose. I stare as he approaches, my lack of shoes making our already significant height difference even more pronounced as I tilt my head back to maintain eye contact as he draws closer.

“Did you get tired of prancing around in that outfit like a slut?” His words cut through me, dousing me like ice cold water. I’m slack-jawed for a moment as I stare over the rim of my water glass.

“What?” My voice trembles as my alcohol-addled brain comprehends what he just said. His eyes narrow into an anger-filled glare that makes me shrink and take a step back. He doesn’t stop advancing and my legs carry me backwards instinctively, only stopping when I feel my back hit the kitchen counter.

His voice is dark and biting when he speaks again, “Did you like it when all those men at the club gave you their attention while you whored yourself out? Did that make your cunt wet?”

My heart stutters in fear as I take in how angry he looks and how close he is to me. “I- I don’t know what you mean…” my voice is small and seems to be swallowed up by the room.

“Don’t play dumb. I know how whores like you act,” he sneers and he towers over me, caging me as he plucks the glass from my frozen fingers and sets it down.

“Desperate little whore who lives for the attention and validation that you get from men. That’s what you are. All you want is for someone to own you and possess you and treat you like the worthless piece of pussy you are.” His voice ends in a harsh hiss as he bends down to hold my gaze.

I can feel my heartbeat echoing in my ears and despite the fear, the alcohol, and the indignation that wells up inside of me, I feel my body clench in response to his words.

His hands settle on my waist, his fingers spanning across my back as his thumbs dig into my hips harshly. I whimper softly at the pinch of pain but I feel my pussy throb.

“And I’m tired of watching you run around like a bitch in heat,” he spits the last few words at me before he leans down and captures my lips in a punishing, bruising kiss. I whine into his mouth as I feel his tongue dominate mine, my hands coming up to rest on his chest briefly before my brain catches up to my body and I push away from him.

“What the fuck?” It’s anger now that fills my body and mind, “You have no right to treat me like that or say that about me! What I do is my business, not yours!”

He glares down at me, “It is my fucking business when you’re doing it all under my roof. And I have every right because I’m about to own every part of you.”

I splutter in disbelief, “Who the hell do you think you are, you freak? I don’t fucking belong-“ His hand cracks across my face as he backhands me.

I cry out as my head snaps to the side, my cheek immediately flaring in pain and fear settles into my stomach.

“Don’t fucking disrespect me.” His voice is ice as he stares me down. My eyes fill with tears but I blink them away furiously. My arm comes up to retaliate but before I can, his hand snatches my wrist and in one smooth movement, he pulls me around, pining my arm behind my back while pushing me down against the kitchen counter.

I struggle fruitlessly against him and expletives spew out of my mouth. I hear the sound of his hand cracking against my ass before I even feel it.

The force jolts my entire body and the sharp burn of pain makes me cry out. I twist and try to squirm away from him but he lands several more blows against me, each one drawing a cry from my lips as my thin dress does nothing to dampen the force of his blows.

“You’re fucking mine.” Every word is punctuated with a hit. I feel the tears spill over my lashes as the pain and panic bombards me.

“No, please stop, please let me go!” My voice is desperate and small as he overwhelms my every sense.

“Shut the fuck up,” his tone is cold yet heated with anger and possession as he grabs the bottom of my dress and wrenches it upwards, bunching it around my hips.

He lets out a mocking laugh, “You fucking whore, you didn’t even wear panties out.” I close my eyes as if that would block out what’s happening. He lands a few more harsh slaps to my bare skin, making me whine and cry out again.

I feel his fingers against my core and feel my heart stop. “Fuck, you worthless little cunt, you’re dripping,” his voice is gravelly as his fingers slide against me, collecting the slick that betrays me.

“Being punished like a whore really does turn you on huh?” He laughs with derision. “No, no please stop!” My voice shakes and I feel shame heating my cheeks simultaneous to the desire that heats my blood.

“Don’t lie to me, whore, I can feel how badly you want this.” He slams two fingers into my dripping pussy as he snarls his words into my ear. A strangled moan erupts out of my mouth as I shudder from the pleasure. His fingers don’t stop as they piston into me, the sound of my wetness filling the room with my cries.

“I’m going to give you exactly what you deserve,” his words barely reach me as the beating of my heart roars in my ears.

He curls his fingers inside of me, making my breath stutter as I feel my orgasm fast approaching. His fingers brush against my clit and I let out a broken wail as pleasure washes over me and I come undone on his fingers, splayed out on our kitchen counter.

“Fucking whore,” he growls in my ear as he works me through the orgasm, making me shake and writhe.

I gasp breathlessly as my body comes down from the high and he pulls his hand away from me. He grabs me and spins me around swiftly, the move making my head dizzy as I look into his eyes. He doesn’t even look winded while I know I’m flushed and panting like a bitch in heat.

Before I can get my bearings, his arm shoots out and his fingers wrap around my throat. I let out a strangled whine as he tightens his grip before pulling me out of the kitchen, toward his room.

I stumble slightly, my legs trembling from the orgasm that shook me. He yanks me by my throat before effortlessly tossing me onto the bed. The movement stuns me but I’d be lying if I said his show of strength didn’t make my core clench a little. I stare up at him as he pulls his shirt over his head and drops his pants, revealing his long, hard cock. The harsh movement makes it bounce slightly against the hard lines of his stomach and I let out of small whimper as I take in his size.

He smirks as he catches my eye, “I’m going to make sure you never want another man after tonight.” I shake my head in response, too overwhelmed to formulate a response.

He’s on me a second later, grabbing my arms to lock them above my head in his hand as his body covers mine. His lips attach to my neck and I moan softly when I feel his teeth scrap my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

I feel him mouth me harshly, in a way that I know will leave a deep bruise to show the world who owns me. I whimper softly and squirm against him, unsure if I should arch into him or away from him, not that he’s giving me much space to do either.

He pulls away slightly to run a free hand down my body, ghosting over my skin like I’m something precious he doesn’t want to break. But his next movement dispels that notion when he roughly spreads my legs and lands a stinging slap against my dripping pussy. A cry escapes from my lips as my body jolts sharply.

“Fuck, you’re dripping, you whore,” he growls before landing several more stinging slaps, hitting my clit with each one, the brutal pain combining with pleasure to make my head spin.

“Look at your puffy little pussy, swollen clit all sensitive huh?” He purrs softly into my ear as he harshly lands another sharp slap. I moan brokenly, trembling against him, my eyes fluttering shut.

I feel him shift above me and my eyes fly open when I feel his cock line up against my center. My gaze catches his and I watch as his lips curl into a cruel smile before his hips slam into place. My mouth opens in a wordless scream as his cock fills me and he sets a ruthless pace.

I arch my back against him, staring up at him with unfocused eyes as the pleasure mounts inside of me. His fingers are like bands around my wrist, keeping me pinned to the bed as he fucks me into the mattress.

“You’re fucking mine, you whore. I’m going to breed you and own every part of you. That’s what you need, huh? You need to be owned and controlled because that’s all stupid sluts like you want.” His voice is harsh, deep with possession and finality. I cry out and whine as my vision goes white and my body clenches for another time, my orgasm slamming into me with no mercy.

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m yours!” My voice is shrill and desperate as he unrelentingly forces my body into submission to him. His low groan fills my ears as I feel his thrusts stutter. “I’m going to mark you as mine inside and out,” he snarls as he throws his head back and slams into me one final time. I arch into him and feel his cock throb inside of me as he cums, filling me and claiming me as his.

His body collapses on me, pressing me into the bed under his warm weight. His hands release my wrists and I bring my arms up to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer.

I giggle softly and let my lips brush against his ear, “Took you long enough to take what belongs to you.” He laughs with breathless incredulity in my ear. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

#nsft concept #overstim kink #cl1t torture #cnc overstim #dark fantasy #cnc k!nk #rap3 fantasy

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azsazz · 5 months

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Silence Isn't Quiet Anymore

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel finally understands.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 892 (short but so good?)

Notes: This might be one of the most interesting concepts I've ever written. I'm obsessed.

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Azriel finally understands.

He’d caught a Suriel once. It hadn’t been anything more difficult than, say, crossing a river, which Suriels cannot do. He’d tracked it for an hour, two, the wind whistling through the trees as his only companion. His shadows had cowered away from the creature that belonged to something other. Another life, perhaps one before even the first of the fae or humans or animals that inhabit the continent found their way here. Before plants had taken root and clouds poured rain from the skies and the sun and the moon had been together, not forced apart by day and night.

There wasn’t a trap to be laid. A crossing of rivers had done enough.

The creature's tattered robe pulled from its bony body as a gust of wind brushed through the woods, sending shivers up his spine. He could’ve turned away right then. Should’ve. He wasn’t looking for answers to any questions, too stubborn in the fact that it was his job to know more about anything at any given time.

The Suriel stared into his soul as he stared into the cavity of its presence. A stalemate. Death looking at Death, a boy looking at his truth.

And its words were nothing but.

“One day, Shadowsinger, when the world has gone still around you, you’ll find out why silence isn’t quiet anymore.”

The harrowing words had haunted him for centuries. Azriel had shrunk in on himself, retreating further and further inside of the cavern of his mind as the words clung to his brain matter, always there.

In times where he might’ve forgotten the roughness of the Suriels voice, the pondering of so few words spoken, as if they were a curse branded into his soul, even his shadows would remind him. Curling behind the backs of his ears in a movement that reminded him so much of ragged, bony fingers reaching out for him in the same way. As he stared into those empty eye sockets, puzzling words falling from lips that didn’t move, a tongue that wasn’t there, from a jaw broken and swinging with the breeze.

Azriel finally understands.

Azriel finally understands why silence isn’t quiet anymore.

It’s your soft breaths, fingers brushing against the crisp page as you turn it. The cracking of the stiff spine. Your quiet gasps as the story goes wrong and the rubbing of your thighs when it goes right. He watches you from his place next to you, blankets shifting as you draw your knees to your chest, completely lost in the novel settled in your lap. You don’t even know it, that his hazel eyes are drawn to you like a maggot to rot. You’re lost in your own world, the quiet of the room a friend, a safety that allows you to immerse yourself in letters on pages.

It’s the wooden spoon scraping the bottom of the pot as you stir, staring at him with those heated eyes as if this is as tough for you as it is for him, keeping away. It’s the constant constricting in his chest, a yearning slowly stoked into a wildfire, cracking in the quiet as he waits. It’s the way your skirts whisper against your skin as you move around the kitchen. The sprinkle of spices, coarse salt pinched between your fingers, dripping into the stew. It’s bubbling, it’s meat so tender it falls apart with the spear of his fork, it’s a slurp of broth that burns him up just like you do, accepting the bond.

It’s your body curling into his while you sleep. The crumple of the sheets as you roll. Your fingernails against the mattress as you feel for him, mind buried deep in sleep. He wonders what you dream of, when you cling to him like that, the contours of your body fitting perfectly within his own. He can feel it, almost, the warmth in his chest as you dream.

It’s the flap of his wings in the night sky. You, cradled in his arms. The whipping of your hair across his wind-burnt cheeks. The light scratches at his scalp as you run your fingers through his unruly hair. It’s the steady thump of your chest, your heart against his as you cling to him, the scream you hold in but your body is tight with it.

It’s when you’re gone and he’s all alone. The silence doesn’t stop, but neither does the noise. It’s filled with voices, shadows cawing in his ears, sliding against his skin, chasing his footsteps like predators. It’s the voices in his head, the roaring of his beating chest as it screams at him to find you, even though you’re only gone a few more hours.

It’s clothes peeling away from skin. Buttons flying to the ground, fabric tearing. Footsteps stumbling closer to the bed. It’s nails scraping down his muscles, his around your waist, pressing bruises into your flesh. All the words that need to be said aren’t words at all. They’re tongues pressing against each other, soothing along each other. It’s teeth clicking, sticking to skin when you bite. It’s your flushed body peeling from his with every move, sticky with sweat. It’s the roiling inside of him, his mating bond coiling with yours, tighter and tighter and tighter until—

Azriel finally understands.

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

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hornedqueenofhell · 7 months

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#thebardsbodyguard

“Hello and welcome back, we just got to hear a sample of the new single 'We Don’t Have to Dance' from Grammy winning group Corroded Coffin and we have here the lead singer and guitarist, Edward Munson.”

Eddie waves from his spot on the couch with a shy smile, he’s still getting used to all the interviews and stuff that come with the rockstar gig.

“Thank you for joining us, we are so excited to have you here.”

“That’s sweet, thank you. I’m not used to hearing my full name, made me think I was in trouble for a second.” Eddie chuckles and so do the others on the couch as well as the audience.

“I know right, everytime I hear my full name I just-” Chris Pine straightens and looks around like he’s waiting for a parent or teacher to jump out and Eddie laughs because it’s true. The couch also has Stephanie Hsu who Eddie met briefly during the break when she asked what kind of music he did. Overall it feels less stressful than other interviews, he just has to remember that even if a joke doesn’t sit well with him to just smile and nod or Jeff will strangle him.

“So Eddie, you and your band just wrapped your second tour a few months ago and you’re already putting out a new album soon. How do you find the time to just churn out music like that?”

“Well, every member of the band pitches in to write our songs. So everytime we’re home with our friends or families we always have stuff going on, things to experience or draw on to make music. And we’re very close so we’re always meeting up to bounce ideas off each other.”

“That’s right I hear you guys all play Dungeons & Dragons togethers and you have since-”

“Since high school, yeah. I had to repeat my senior twice before I found out I had ADHD and there were days where those games were the only things that kept me going.”

Graham turns to Chris and Eddie is grateful for a moment to take a sip of his drink and fix his sleeve which is just a smidge too tight. “Chris I know you didn’t play before but have you started since being in the Dungeons & Dragons movies.”

“We did a one shot…,” he trails off and glances at Eddie who nods in confirmation, “One shot to promote the second one with John running it and it was fun but there’s just so much to memorize.”

“And you Stephanie, did you do anything like that?”

She shakes her head with a beautiful smile, “No, I heard about D&D growing up and it’s become so popular now. I tend to be outdoors- I’m still outdoors a lot, handling the farm and the gardens and such.”

“More power to you,” Eddie offers her a cheers with his glass, “I grew up in farm country but I’m terrible at keeping plants alive.” No, that honor goes to Steve who loves growing things in their apartment.

“Before we go, Eddie I have one more question for you. I know you’re not on social media much but the internet is just dying to know about that gorgeous bodyguard of yours-”

“Bodyguard? What bodyguard?” Eddie interrupts as Graham pulls out his tablet and presses a button to pull up several images from social media. In them is Eddie and a very handsome brunette man holding open the door of a cafe and walking with him into a venue with a hand on Eddie’s back. The same brunette is pictured picking up Eddie after a speaker tipped over and caused Eddie to twist an ankle during a show. All of the images are tagged #thebardsbodyguard or some similar iteration. Eddie frowns and points at the screen, at the gorgeous man he knows like the back of his hand,

“Wait, you mean my husband?”

Twitter goes down for three hours after. Eddie and Steve are trending on Tumblr for days. People scrounge up photos of them from high school, pictures of Steve from the swim team and Eddie from Hellfire club surface and float around the internet. The length of their romance is speculated on as well as when they got married. Some clever fan notes the ring Eddie wears on the same chain as his guitar pick around his neck and the bat wing tattoo on his ring finger that appeared around the same time. The only thing no one finds is the wedding. It had been a close friends and family only event and none of their people would ever share Steve and Eddie’s personal lives like that.

Eddie does eventually give a single interview about his relationship with Steve but after that refuses any others with a request for privacy. He does however post a single photo of he and Steve in their wedding tuxes on Halloween that year. The two of them smiling side by side, foreheads tipped together, eyes closed. Steve is laying on Eddie’s chest when he posts it, having given final approval on the selected photo, while they share a slice of cheesecake for their anniversary.

“Love you Stevie.”

“Love you too, my bard.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #modern au #rockstar eddie munson #people think Steve is Eddies bodyguard #secret relationship #married steddie #steddiefic chronicles

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yesimwriting · 5 months

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okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader

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lale-txt · 4 months

Text

❉ confessing to you w/ Geto, Toji & Shiu

➸ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏: Gojo, Nanami & Higuruma

a/n: reader is gn! obviously i lied when i said that i won't write a part 2 for this, but here we are. the scenarios plagued my mind and i had to get them out. both Toji's and Geto's part turned out a little sad and angsty, but that's what you get with those tragic chars, i guess.

❦ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

Toji doesn’t confess. Deep, deep down he fears that he might put a curse on you if he speaks what weighs on his heart.

You gotta forgive him, he’s a burned child.

He’s afraid that you’re gonna vanish once he says these words out loud; without a trace, making him wonder if you were merely a fever dream. But you’re here, next to him in the dark, the heat of your body seeping into his when you roll over in your sleep and cling to him. He has to keep you safe, it’s what his life revolves around.

Toji’s hands are surprisingly gentle when he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You wouldn’t think that the same hands were covered in blood only a few hours ago. Some days he wouldn’t stop scrubbing them until you wrapped yours around his, giving him that look that makes his heart flinch. There’s no fear in your eyes, only compassion and a calm adoration, enough to make the lump of unsaid words in his throat swell. Sometimes he wonders if he’s gonna suffocate on those one day; if you’ll be able to forgive him for loving you, for touching you with those bloodstained hands, for engraving himself into your being.

He hopes you know. You do, don’t you? You wouldn’t curl up besides him otherwise, tangled in sheets he’ll never stay too long because he fears his world will melt down to just the two of you. So he keeps his gun on the nightstand and one foot out of the door, but his eyes will always dart back to your sleeping figure. You mumble out his name in your sleep and Toji responds by pulling you closer to him, only for a moment, holding his breath when you stir awake for a heartbeat.

Maybe he can love you in between.

In those split seconds when you’re not asleep but not awake either; neither dreaming nor conscious. Not in this life, not in the next one. But in another life, when the stars have aligned and lead you back into his arms. Maybe he can hold you without worrying about staining your soul, your heart; maybe then he can kiss you with the absence of fear. Until then he’ll bite his tongue till he draws blood, choking on the words he chose not to say.

You will forgive him, won’t you?

❦ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

In the dark and hazy mind of Geto, you’re the golden light that always guides him back to life. Even though fears he’ll dim you once he encases you, he can’t stay away from you for too long, your warmth way too addicting to him. You never push him away, instead you open your arms to embrace him. It’s as if you’re blinded by your own light, choosing not to see the sins he had committed because it would mean you’d have to stop loving him, and that would mean your whole world would simply fall apart; it’d mean Geto would fall apart.

Geto never asks for much. He did once and maybe that’s the heaviest burden he has to carry; that night when he showed up at your doorstep, asking you to leave everything behind and come with him. It was selfish, he knows that much. But how could you have denied him anything, when both his voice and heart were close to breaking, when he mumbled your name like an apology, his hands trembling till the moment you wrapped yours around them?

It’s too late now, and saying those words out loud now would feel like a binding vow, destroying you in the end. He can’t do that to you. Not to the person who saw the core of his soul and still chose to stay by his side, over all these years. Not budging, not complaining.

An unconditional love with eyes closed. A black hole where his heart is supposed to be, from dusk but never to dawn; while you’re burning brighter than a thousand suns. Maybe he has always been in your orbit, inevitably drawn to you.

When Geto trails kisses from your fingertips to your wrists, he can’t help but wonder when the day will come when he’ll slip through these fingers and plunge into darkness. He imagines your desperate cries and the scratch marks on his skin when you attempt to pull him back, back to the light, back to you. One day, it will be too late, he’s sure of that. His end won’t be a kind one.

All he can hope for is your forgiveness when he places his bleeding heart in your open palms, and that you’ll swallow him whole like he did with the burden of never being able to openly telling you how deeply, madly he loved you.

❦ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐔

Whenever he pulls up in the driveway, Shiu can’t help but wonder if you’re gonna be there, waiting for him at his doorstep with that mischievous grin of yours. You’re just a neighbor who he occasionally shares a cigarette with, he keeps telling himself, knowing it’s a full blown lie at this point.

You’re tugging at his heart strings, night for night. Sometimes the thought of you just lying a few meters away from him, on the other side of a wall, drives him insane. You should be here, in his bed, in his arms. His sheets should smell like you in the morning, not like this creeping loneliness. Yet he never invites you inside and you never dare him to, like a stray cat tiptoeing at the edge of an open door, hoping for sweet treats and head scratches. It’s a game you’re both playing.

“My sweet,” he mumbles in that raspy voice you’ve learned to love so much when he spots you sitting at your familiar spot. Without hesitation he takes off his suit jacket and puts it around your shoulders. He never asks how long you’ve been sitting and waiting there for him, but he can easily tell from your cold fingertips when you hand him the lighter. Just a neighbor.

Inviting you in would mean something more than just opening the door. Within his profession, you don’t do love. There’s simply no room for it. Affection is exchanged through bundled yen notes and comes with fake laughter and lots of regret and headache in the morning. It’s just how things go. It’s the life Shiu chose for himself.

So why did his heart yearn so much for you? He should break this up before it even gets started. But he cannot, not when you inch closer while you talk, until your knees and your shoulders are touching, and the smoke from your shared cigarette is blown from lips to lips, as if you’re both testing just how close you can get before the resilience crumbles.

Maybe a kiss won’t hurt. Shiu knows that the lies he tells himself are piling up at this point. Of course it will hurt. A simple kiss won’t satisfy him, he’ll always find himself craving for more of you. A kiss first, then waking up by your side while you’re wearing his shirt that hugs your figure so nicely and next thing he’ll catch himself staring at the displays of the jewelry store, thinking which ring he should get you.

No, he can’t do that. He shouldn’t. And yet still, he cups your face so gently, lifting your chin up and catching your gaze. So let it hurt, he thinks to himself, before leaning in to kiss you, softly and deeply.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x reader #geto x reader #shiu x reader #toji fushiguro #shiu kong #geto suguru #toji fushiguro x reader #shiu kong x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

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a-aexotic · 1 year

Note

could you do a rafe imagine where reader is a pouge and she’s working at the country club as a server or as a bust gal and kelce says something about her but rafe secretly likes the reader and he defends her and gets pissed at his friends for talking bad about her or saying something degrading or ojectifyinfg about her and then the reader finds out rafe defended her from topper ?? Bc topper is secretly kind (apart from the fire tbh) and reader confronts rafe about why he defended her

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings. sooo much fluff, degrading language towards women, a fight (kinda), out of character top/rafe, lmk if i missed anything!

summary. rafe has a crush on you and topper makes it his top priority to get you two together after you confess your feelings, too.

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

You were exhausted at this time of day and you just wanted to go home and rest. Your eyes were heavy and your feet hurt from these stupid heels the club makes you wear. You had one last table before you could clock out; you could already feel the warm bath you were going to draw tonight.

Until you saw who you were serving; Kook royalty themselves. Rafe, Topper, Kelce and a few guys you don't recall the names of. You prepared yourself for the longest hour serving these boys.

You walked up to them, a big smile on your lips. If you were going to serve some snotty Kooks you might as well get a good tip. "Hey, um. I'm Y/N, and I'm your waiter for tonight. Can I get you started with any drinks?"

You handed out the menus and you could already feel their stares at your body and face, making you feel a tiny bit self conscious. In the corner of your eye you saw Kelce turn to one of the boys to whisper something and he immediately turned red before letting out a chuckle.

You saw Topper and Rafe make eye contact before Rafe rolled his eyes, making Topper sigh.

"Sure, for me, I don't know about the others though." Topper nodded politely as you smiled.

"Yeah, I'm super thirsty." One of the boys had commented as the whole table (minus Topper and Rafe) erupted in laughter. You were disgusted and honestly disappointed, I mean, how low could these jerks get?

Rafe cleared his throat and the whole table became quiet once again. "Me and Top are going to get some Old-Fashion's. I don't know about the others."

"Make that three more." Kelce added and you nodded politely, jotting it down quickly on the notepad.

"Okay, I will be right back with your drinks. Take a look at the menus, alright?" You walked away with another big smile and as you turned, it immediately dropped.

You didn't necessarily hate Kooks; well, not to the extent of JJ or Pope. You could honestly stand them; sure, they made you uncomfortably sometimes but at least at the end of it, you have a good tip.

"Take a look at those menus, more like take a look at that ass!" The boy had said and Kelce and other one let out another laugh. Rafe couldn't stand it.

The jokes weren't funny and were low blows, they were some of the worst jokes he'd heard in months. It was stupid. Rafe held in all his anger because he didn't want to cause a scene, especially here or in front of you.

He's been trying to make a move on you for months; giving extra tips, complimenting you, asking if you could help with the golf cart. And now all his hard was going down the drain because you're going to think he's shallow and idiotic because of his 'friends.'

The only person he actually liked right now was Topper and that's saying a lot. He felt bad for you as well. Rafe didn't really feel empathetic towards anyone but seeing you put on a fake smile and nod off the joke like it was nothing reminded him of someone.

"God what I would do to take her to bed." One of the boys sighed as the others agreed. Rafe bit his tongue as they continued.

"I'm sure she would," Kelce took a drink of his water. "If you tipped her enough."

"You're right, she's a Pogue. I'm sure she needs the money."

Rafe was disgusted. Is this really what they thought about? "Shut the fuck up, dude. That's not funny."

The table went quiet as the guy turned to Rafe. "What the fuck is your problem man, you've been in a bitch mood ever since we came in here. I mean, come on, it's a fucking joke."

"A joke? You call that a fucking joke?" Rafe started raising his voice. "You're the fucking joke here, dude. Who the fuck says that shit? Especially while she's literally over there."

Topper nodded. "Yeah, have some decency. Y/N's actually so sweet."

The two boys looked at each other before laughing. "Oh I see what's goin on here. You two are acting like you're all above this, above us, so she can see how gentleman-ly you are and let you tag team her, huh?"

"Not everything is about sex, dude. Maybe we actually think she's nice and a human being that deserves a little respect. She's, y'know, a living breathing human with thoughts in case you've forgot." Rafe was seeing red and he was about to throw a punch before Topper kicked his leg.

"What, dude? It's true." Rafe looked at Topper before he sighed.

"Let's just finish the drinks and then we can go, alright?" Topper was trying to calm things down and Rafe took a deep breath before nodding.

You had come back with all the drinks on a platter. You felt the shift in energy, it was a lot more tense now than it was. "Alright, have you guys figured out what you guys wanted to eat?"

You passed out the drinks.

"That would be it, can you uh, get the check please?" Rafe's voice was much softer and politer than usual and you nodded. You appreciated the manners; you don't see a lot of that in the country club.

"Okay, sure. I will be right back with the check." You smiled at him and his cheeks turned a little red as he turned away. Topper noticed this and was a little confused.

Rafe had never mentioned liking you in anyway. He was now wondering if he had just started liking you or if this was something that's been happening for a while now.

"Okay, Kelce, how much would you pay me if I went up to her and asked her out on a date?"

"Nothing, dude. You'll be getting the award, why would I have to pay?" Kelce responded, drinking a little of his drink.

Rafe flared his nostrils as he kept in his anger once again. He didn't want to blow up again, people were already staring.

"Dude, you won't do it." The other guy laughed. "You're a fuckin pussy."

"There's no way she'll say yes." Kelce added.

The other guy rolled his eyes, "How much do you wanna bet?"

Kelce laughed, "100$ easy, dude."

He laughed, "Okay, I'll be a 100$ richer."

"You're definitely going to lose that 100, man."

You came back and put the check down with a small smile. "Is that all boys?"

"Yes." Rafe quickly said, taking the check and putting his card in. The others exchanged looks. Before you could away, the boy had started to say something.

"Y/N, right?" He looked at your nametag then to your low V-cut shirt before looking back at your face. "I was wondering if you could let me take you out later this week, maybe... Saturday? I'm havin a big party, I'd just love for you to come."

Rafe was angry he felt like his eyes were going to bulge out of his eyelids as he stared daggers at the guy.

You stood there, a bit shocked. There were a few seconds before you could respond. "I would love to. But uh, I'm already dating someone."

"Really?" Topper looked confused, you'd never mentioned one. You glared down at him before smiling and nodding. Rafe felt like his world had come crashing down. You had a boyfriend?

"Yup, JJ. Two months!" You said dramatically. "Sorry... About that."

The guy looked pissed, turning away from you. "You weren't even that pretty anyway." He muttered.

Your eyes widened and immediately took that as your que to leave, walking away. "Okay.."

Rafe quickly got up after you, taking out his wallet and taking out a 20$, handing it to you.

Your eyes had widened at how much he was tipping. "Whoa, are you sure?"

"Very. My friends were douches to you and I apologize. I don't even know the other two dudes' names."

You laughed, the first real genuine laugh you've had all day. It was a like breathe of fresh air. "Me neither, but I can't take this, that's so much." You pushed away the money.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you can." He put it in the pocket in your shirt before sighing. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

He walked away to the rest of his friends and you smiled at the nice gesture. Rafe, despite the opinion of your friends, was actually kinda sweet. I mean, he was sure as hell better than the rest of his friends (minus Topper).

"Dude, that took you long enough." You heard one of them groan.

"Shut up." You heard Rafe reply as you smiled to yourself. You immediately shook away the smile, sighing. Why was the Kook prince making you smile? Wow, you were in desperate need of a bath and a good meal, 8 hour shifts aren't your strong suit.

You were surprised and confused at Topper's words.

"Yeah, he was like, genuinely pissed. I've never seen him that mad and that's saying a lot."

Your eyebrows were furrowed, "Wait, wait. So he defended me?"

Topper looked at you like it was the most obvious thing of all. "That's what I've been saying for the last half an hour, have you been listening?"

You rolled your eyes at Topper's unnecessary sassiness, "Yes, Top, it's just been really hard to process."

"What's hard about it? Rafe has literally never had a soft spot for anyone except Wheeizie, like ever. And he's rich. He can spoil you and you're literally set for life-"

"Whoa, okay." You started laughing. "Let's not go that far. I am not marrying Rafe Cameron." ok girl...

"Okay but think about it." He smiled. "We could be like kinda related. If Sarah marries me... or if Rafe considers me a best friend, I could be like your brother-in-law."

You started laughing harder, "Sarah's not marrying you."

He didn't look too amused by that. "Okay, shut up, seriously. Rafe likes you."

The more you imagined his face and his smile, his dad outfits and the way he literally is an asshole to everyone except you, the more hot your face felt.

Topper smiled as he playfully pushed your shoulder making you laugh. "He's cute."

"Cute? Don't call say that to his face, he'll get all flustered and then roll his eyes."

You already imagine his face, making you laugh a little harder. "Okay, okay. If... if I were to like him back, how would I approach him?"

Topper sighed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Okay, uh. Maybe just talk to him and flirt before he asks you out."

"That's so obvious-"

"He tipped you a 20 last night and you're worried you're making it obvious? Are you serious?"

You rolled your eyes. You reminded yourself to talk to Topper about his attitude problem later because it's getting a bit much. "Okay. Fine. I will."

Other than being a waitress at the country club, some days they put you on the Beverage Cart duty. It was probably because they were short in staff that day but honestly you didn't mind. You'd rather be out on the golf course then cooped up in the restaurant. You also get double the tips than you would inside.

Plus, you had a cute golf outfit on with the cute visor; you felt like a true Kook.

As you were going around, selling drinks, you saw Topper and Rafe. Of course they were going to the club today; it was nice Saturday afternoon. You face palmed yourself. You already knew what Topper was going to do.

Topper saw you as well, a smirk forming on his lips. "Rafe, uh. Remember Y/N?"

Rafe felt himself blush at the mention of you. He shook it off, nodding. "Uh, yeah. Doesn't she work here?"

"Yep. Also, I was uh, talkin to her the other day and she called you cute."

Rafe's mouth flew open as he whipped his head towards Topper. "What?"

Topper smiled. "Yeah, she called you cute. Like, really cute. She was blushing and shit."

Rafe smiled and he didn't even feel it. "Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, dude. And, oh! Speaking of the devil, there she is."

Rafe's eyes widened as he looked over at you and shook his head. "Oh, uh."

"I know you like her, man." Topper added as he looked to Rafe.

He shook his head. "No, I don't like her. I think she's cute."

Topper rolled his eyes. "And you blush around you, you stumble over your words, you tip her real good. You were practically on the floor kicking your feet in the air and blushing when I told you she said you were cute."

Rafe frowned at Topper's wording and before he could protest, he started pushing Rafe towards the cart. "Dude, hold on."

"Ask her out, man."

"Not now, dude, I've been plotting for months now, I can't just-"

"Dude, do you trust me?" Topper stopped and looked dead in the eyes.

"No." Rafe stated before Topper rolled his eyes for what seemed to be the fifty-th time that day.

"I don't care, now come on." He pushed Rafe towards the cart before grabbing the back of his collar, making him walk towards you. If this was any other situation, Rafe would've landed a punch to Top's jaw but he didn't wanna scare you off, so he kept his cool.

You stared the two as they approached the cart. They seemed too... normal. They were both smiling and you felt like they were plotting. You know for a fact that Topper is.

"Hey."

"Hi." They both said in union, making Rafe look back at Topper, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What can I get you two?" There was unnecessary awkwardness between the three of you as they both looked at each other.

"Two... sodas."

"Sodas?" You looked assumed. Were they 12?

Topper looked back at you. "Yes."

As you reached for the cooler, you heard Topper make an 'O' sound. You turned around.

"Oh shit. I forgot my wallet, I will be right back. Rafe, you stay here and get us the sodas, alright?"

Rafe looked back with his teeth gritted, a warning to Topper. "Topper."

He shrugged. "I'll be right back." He jogged away as you and Rafe made eye contact.

You knew that he knew what you had told Topper. And then, Rafe realized the same thing. He didn't know what Topper had told you but he just hopes it wasn't too embarrassing.

"Um. I never asked but um, what sodas do you want?"

"Ginger ale. I'm pretty Topper wants something girly like Diet Coke or something like that." Rafe mumbled the last part but you heard it. You let a horrendously loud laugh because you knew Topper would get a Diet Coke.

You suddenly felt embarrassed but it melted as you heard Rafe's small laugh as well. Butterflies filled your stomach as you heard him.

"Okay, then. One ginger ale and uh... a Diet Coke." You laughed a little after, making Rafe smile.

As you handed him the Ginger Ale, your hands touched and you felt like your face was on fire. You quickly pulled away.

"Hey, uh..." Rafe started. "Did Topper say anything about me?"

"In what way?"

"Um, I don't know... something involving you?" Rafe inquired as you smiled.

"Did he say anything to you about me?"

"Maybe." He dragged out the 'e' sound as you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

"Topper may have mentioned a few things about you. But they weren't bad. They were actually a little... admiring to hear."

He went red as he looked down at his feet. "Topper just loves to run his mouth."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah. He definitely loves to gossip."

He laughed at your wording. "He said some stuff about you, too. It was... admiring, too."

Your cheeks had begun to hurt from smiling this hard and it'd been only a couple minutes.

"Okay." Rafe sighed. "Are we talking about the same thing-"

"Yes, we are. I think."

Rafe was going to have to push all his pride and ego just this time. "I think that you're really pretty... and if you're not with JJ, I'd love to take you out on a date."

You had forget he heard that part. "I'm not with JJ."

"Okay, then what do you say?"

"Yes, Rafe." You smiled at him and he swore his heart did a little flip at the sound of that.

"Okay," he sounded breathless.

You then turned in your cart, looking for a piece of paper and your pen. You found one and then wrote down your number. You turned back and handed it to him. "Text me and then we can sort out the details, okay?"

"Yeah, for sure."

Topper finally walked back, wallet in hand, a big grin on his tanned face. He looked down at the paper in his hand and gave Rafe a proud pat on the back.

"Here's your Diet Coke," you held in your laugh as you gave the drink to Topper. Rafe smiled back at you as Topper opened it quickly and took a big gulp.

"Thank you. I knew you'd know my favorite drink, Y/N." He took out a 5 dollar bill and gave it to you before winking and you felt yourself cringe at Topper as you took the 5.

He and Rafe walked away and you stood there, your heart beating fast as you watched them walk away.

"What'd I say? Trust me, Rafe, I promise it'll work out and look, it worked out!"

"Yeah, for once, dude."

"Oh, shut up."

You heard their argument and laughed to yourself, getting back into your cart to drive to the next course.

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hellodarling1357 · 2 months

Note

Ohhhhh requests!!!!!

What about possessive freshly mated Cassian x reader??? The frenzy is only supposed to last a certain amount of time but when they come back Cass is about ready to take on all of Velaris for his girl! Can absolutely be smutty if that’s what ya want 😉

Frenzied Splashes - Cassian x Reader

Thank you so much for requesting this @beardburnsupersoldiers, sorry it took me like two months to post 🙃

Word Count: 3.5k

Four weeks

You had thought that four whole weeks away would be plenty of time for you and Cassian to fully embrace your newly accepted mating bond and the delight of the frenzy that came with it.

The two of you had been hopeless before ever realising you were mates and had earned too many groans and complaints from your friends to count. That constant need to be touching one another was too strong, often leading to you being perched in Cassian’s lap, his arm around your waist, fingers interlocked, or leaning against one another as though the support was the only thing keep you both upright.

Then there had been the other, more unfortunate, instances where your need to touch one another had gotten a little carried away. The distracting hand trailing along your thigh, reaching higher and higher in the middle of a meeting had you both being reprimanded by Rhys. The time you and Cassian volunteered to pick out a few bottles of wine for dinner and had then been momentarily sidetracked in the dark, confined space of the wine cellar, only pulling apart when a disgruntled Azriel came to see what was taking you so long. Then there had been the night when you had both abandoned your positions in the Hewn City, your scrap of a dress and Cassian’s overprotectiveness leading you both to an abandoned room with you pressed up against the wall, legs wrapped around Cassian’s waist as his breath fanned across your exposed skin.

And all that had been before the mating bond snapped into place. Rhys, fully aware of your lack of control when it came to one another, had sent you both away immediately after offering his congratulations, muttering something about the two of you only getting worse and not having the patience to deal with it right now.

Not that you were complaining.

It had started off as two weeks of zero responsibilities, hidden away from the world with Cassian, your mate.

But when those two weeks were closing to a draw and there was no apparent easing of your need and desire for the other on the near horizon, Cassian had reached out to Rhys, begging him for an additional two weeks with you. Rhys had granted the request without a second thought and was then quick to close off the connection into Cassian’s mind so that he wouldn’t need to bear witness to the lust and need for you that coated Cassian’s every thought.

However, it wasn’t until nine weeks had passed did you feel as though everything began to settle into place. Yes, you still craved your mate’s touch but the pain of not having him near had finally dwindled. And while Cassian claimed he always needed you, you found yourselves now being able to resist the urge to tear the other’s clothes off, at least for a few hours.

With the mating bond frenzy seemingly under control and the responsibilities of your life outside of one another dawned, you decided it was time to step back into reality.

*****

Upon your return, the Inner Circle had organised a dinner to welcome you back and to celebrate the two of you finally being mated; after years of anticipation your friends had fully rejoiced in the fact that their assumptions about the two of you being mates had finally been confirmed.

Tightly pressed into Cassian’s chest, you relished in the feel of his arms around you, his body heat seeping into your own as it fought to keep out the frigid night air. With careful hands, Cassian helped place you back on your feet once he had landed on the balcony.

Pulling you in for a deep kiss before making your way inside, Cassian murmured against your lips, “Ready to face reality again?”

You slanted your mouth back over his with a soft smile, “With you by my side, I’m ready to face anything.”

Cassian pulled away, hands reaching up to cup your face as he gazed down at you, eyes full of love and adoration, fingers soothingly caressing your cheeks. He leant in for another quick kiss before leading you inside towards the sounds of voices that were trailing out into the crisp night.

Sensing his excitement down the bond, you laughed as Cassian ran ahead of you to embrace his brothers. The scene before you is the epitome of what a High Lord and two of the most powerful Illyrians should not look like, yet you smile all the same at the love flooding the room.

“Nine whole weeks and yet you still smell of sex. Please tell me you at least showered before deciding to finally grace us with your presence?”

“Prick,”

Cassian whacked Rhys over the head, pushing him away with a shove, his grin not once faltering. However, Azriel’s face was the complete opposite to his brothers. A tight grimace graced his features at the thought of the two of you, as if suddenly realising he was going to have to go back to dealing with the constant noises and flirting that constantly sounded under your shared roof.

“Relax, Az. It’s not like I’m going to take her on the dining table,” you chuckled as you stepped further into the room, walking to stand beside Cassian and leaning against him as his arm wrapped around your waist. “At least not while you lot are here to watch.”

The pinch to your side had a yelp escaping you, your hand quickly coming up to slap at Cassian’s chest as your cheeks flushed at his words.

“Y/N,” Rhys greeted, “I’m glad you’re back, love. I can finally have a General again.” The smirk on his face as he pulled you in for a hug had you giving him a playful scowl.

Azriel was next, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your cheek, “It’s good to see you again. Seriously though, congratulations, both of you.”

But the expression on Cassian’s face had you tensing. His eyes had narrowed in on Azriel’s hand on your back and the way Rhys was standing a little too close for his liking.

Sensing the sudden change, Rhys clapped his hands and announced “Right, dinner. The others are all waiting to see you both.” Then he was out of the room, dragging Azriel with him.

“Cass? Are you alright?”

Cassian didn’t answer, eyes fixed on the doorway his brothers had walked through as his hands clenched at his sides.

“Cassian,” You now demanded, moving to stand in front of him, hands resting on either side of his neck as you waited for him to look at you. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

The snarl he let out had your eyebrows shooting up in surprise, yet you refused to step away. “They were all over you.”

“Cass–”

“No, it’s not on. For fucks sake, even Rhys. What about Feyre? He has his own mate, yet he can’t keep himself off of you.” You had never heard this level of hostility in his voice, let alone having it be directed at his brothers.

“What the fuck, Cassian? They were just saying hi?” The glare he fixed you with had everything clicking into place, causing a giggle to rip from you. “Oh.”

“What?”

“Well, it makes sense. You’re clearly still all riled up. You’re taking that mated protectiveness a bit too seriously though if you think Rhys and Azriel were all over me.” You teased, linking your fingers through his and guiding him into the dining room where your family waited.

Cassian just grumbled at your words, realising he probably had overreacted. He gave his brothers an apologetic smile and got two teasing looks of understanding in return, causing him to flip them off as he pulled you tighter against him, refusing to leave your side for the rest of the night.

*****

You awoke to the feeling of calloused fingers trailing across your back, the rough feel of them against your bare skin left goosebumps rising in their wake.

Letting out a small moan you turned on your side to look at Cassian, face immediately splitting into a grin as you found your mate already watching you, a content smile spread across his features.

“Good morning,” you hummed, closing your eyes and moving closer so you could nuzzle your face against his chest and breathe in his scent. The kiss to the top of your hand and the muscled arms that wrapped perfectly around you had your heart stammering, even after all this time.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Cassian continued to trail his fingers and hands over you, continuously pressing lingering kisses to wherever he could reach from where you were cozied up against him. Your eyes fluttered shut at the comforting feeling and at the warmth he emanated and you quickly found yourself dozing off against him.

“Y/N, we should get up soon,” his voice was a gentle whisper across your skin, working to relax you further into him despite knowing he was right.

“Five more minutes,” Cassian laughed at your words and how they came out all smushed from your face being pressed against him, causing you to grumble as you blearily sat up, pulling the blankets with you.

“Well, you’re a ray of sunshine this morning,” The scowl you shot him had a laugh rumbling from his chest as he shifted so he was now on his back. “Come on, it’s been over two months since we’ve been anywhere. How about we go out for breakfast?”

You let out a sigh before dramatically letting yourself flop against him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Or,” you countered as you trailed kisses along his jaw, “we could just stay here.”

Cassian was silent for a moment, eyes closing as he lost himself in the sensation of your lips against his skin and at the feel of your hands tracing patterns along his chest.

With a groan Cassian sat up, pulling you with him as his hands grasped your own, stopping them from exploring any lower. You pouted in response as you knelt on the bed beside him, sheets falling around your waist.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but stop?” You giggled at the hesitation in his voice and pained look on his face.

“You don’t sound so sure, General.” Biting your lip, you glanced at him with wide eyes, an expression you knew would make him crave immediately.

“Don’t- Sweetheart, don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that. Like you’re all…” he trailed off as his eyes roamed over your face, down to your chest, trailing further to the hand you now had beneath the sheets. “Fuck it.”

You let out a breathless laugh as Cassian leaped towards you, pushing you back down onto the mattress as his body covered yours. He growled as he pulled your hand out from between your legs, bring it up to his mouth as he pressed kisses along your fingertips and palm, groaning at the taste of you. Next minute, both your hands were pinned above your head, Cassian hovering over you as the lust-filled look in his eyes kept you in place.

“We’ll make this quick, okay? I still want to take my girl out today.” His teeth nipped at your ear, mouth trailing down as he sucked marks into the soft skin of your neck and chest. You nodded in agreement, if you were being honest, having him sprawled above you like this would have you agreeing to anything he said.

*****

What was supposed to be a quick morning fuck, turned into an extra two hours in bed followed by a half hour bath that resulted in Cassian taking you against the bathroom counter.

Reluctantly, you both managed to get dressed, stealing glances at one another as you got ready for the day, before walking out onto the balcony so that Cassian could fly you down to Velaris.

The cold air from the night before had eased into a beautiful, sunny day; the smell of flowers and freshly made bread filled the air, creating the perfect scene as a spring breeze rippled along the Sidra that was glowing like diamonds as it reflected the sun.

Hand-in-hand, you and Cassian strolled along the Sidra, content in being in one another’s company as you window shopped on your way to your favourite corner cafe.

As you approached two males walking in the opposite direction, you felt Cassian tense up through the bond and in the way his hand held tightly onto yours. You smirked at him, shaking your head at his reaction even though the males were deep in conversation and hadn’t even glanced your way. Cassian, however, was having none of it and seemed fixed on staring the pair down as though daring them to so much as breathe in your direction.

“Cass,” you warned, hoping to ease the thoughts you knew were racing through his brain, “they haven’t done anything, it’s fine.”

You knew you had him once his eyes tore away to look at you instead, the threatening harshness immediately melting away to that awe filled gaze that still sent butterflies to your stomach. You had him, that is, until a group of children ran by, resulting in one of the passing males accidentally bumping into you as he jumped out of his way.

“Sorry, love,” the male had murmured absentmindedly before turning back to pick up his conversation. You were about to brush it off and say it was fine, but Cassian got there first.

“What the fuck is your problem? Huh?” He had whirled on the startled male, hands coming up to shove into his chest. The male, to his credit, didn’t cower, however, there was a look of haunted realisation as he took in the General before him.

“Cass, come on, it’s fine. You saw those kids run past, he clearly didn’t mean it,” Cassian remained glaring at the male, it wasn’t until you pried his hands away from him that he finally looked over to you and took a step back at the stern expression you were giving him.

“Sorry,” you said, quick to plaster on a smile as you pulled Cassian away. “Newly mated males, you know how it goes.”

The pair gave you an understanding smile, causing Cassian to tense beside you again.

“Cassian,” you quickly veered away from the males and the conversation in hopes of distracting him, “have you thought about what you want yet? Because I’m thinking, what about we get the eggs and the pancakes then we split them? Sweet and savoury breakfast?”

“– more like newly mated Illyrian. I heard they accepted the bond months ago,” You cringed as you overheard the male as the pair walked away.

“Well, he should definitely consider himself lucky. Imagine being hauled up with her for weeks on end, it’s a shame she’s off the market now.”

“Oh boy,” you murmured as Cassian tore his hand from yours and spun back around to stalk after the pair.

“Hey. You. What the fuck did you just say?”

“Cassian.” You shouted after him; maybe it was too soon to be out and about.

The male just grinned, a cheeky glint in his eye, “What? It was a compliment, relax.” His companion squeezed his eyes shut as though willing him to shut up.

You managed to grab hold of Cassian’s arms, preventing him from getting any closer and starting something he would later regret.

“Cassian. We’re going. Now.” Sending everything you had down the bond along with the demand in your words, Cassian finally relented.

“What? I’m just saying, if she wasn’t taken, I would definitely be trying my luck…”

Cassian moved too fast for you to even attempt to stop him from whirling around and pushing the male through the gap in the railing, watching with a satisfied smile as he fell with a splash into the flowing river below.

“For fucks same,” you groaned as you hurried over, taking note of Cassian heavily breathing as he watched the male splutter for air.

You wrapped an arm around him, running circles into his back as you tried to coax him away. However, a resounding laugh from the other male caught your attention and had you turning to face him.

“I’m sorry,” he burst out between his laughter. “I’m so sorry but, he’s a prick. An absolute prick. He had that coming, so thank you.”

You turned to face Cassian, certain that his perplexed expression mirrored your own.

“What…?”

“He has this thing. He’s an idiot, you see. But he has this game, I guess, where he does his best to rile up mated males. Like I said, he’s a prick.”

“Yeah, but I’m your prick,” The male in question had just pulled himself out of the river, water dripping from his clothes and hair as he moved to stand beside the other male.

“We’re mates,” he continued to explain. “I just do it to tease him because he acted like an ass when we first accepted the mating bond. I may have taken it a bit fair today, sorry.” He said to Cassian in a genuine tone.

Cassian looked stuck between wanting to laugh and wanting to punch the male in the face. To ease the tension, you wrapped your arm around Cassian’s waist, soothingly rubbing your fingers along his side.

“Maybe try to read the room next time, unless your goal is to end up in the river again.” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at the utter absurdity of the situation.

“I’ve been telling him that for years. Pig-headed males, they don’t want to hear it.” You nodded in agreement, glancing up at Cassian as if to say you fully understood this male’s pain. Both of you were fixed with looks of indignation from your respective mates.

“Well, have a good day.” You finally said with another laugh.

“Yeah, you too. Congratulations, by the way. Everyone in Velaris was so happy to hear your good news.”

“Well, not everyone, I’m sure there’s a few males out there who…” the soaking wet male didn’t have a chance to finish, his mate pulling him away with a glare and a wary glance towards Cassian as he shook his head.

With a sigh, Cassian moved towards the railing and heavily leant against it, blowing out a breath of air as he looked across the river.

“So,” you asked, sliding into your spot against him, his arm automatically wrapping around your waist to pull you in closer. “Have you finished being the big, overprotective Illyrian? Or do we have to go home and try this again another day?”

With a groan, Cassian hid his face into the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me, it’s like I was possessed or something and all I could hear was him talking about you like that…” he trailed off, leaning further into you as you laughed at his outburst.

“It’s fine, we knew this could happen. Just, maybe next time, at least try to ignore it? For me?”

“Sure,” then he was slanting his lips over yours, pulling you tightly against his chest as he deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to twirl around the strands of your hair.

“Good, because I don’t want your ego getting in the way of my eggs and pancakes. Come on, you were meant to be taking me out for breakfast, now look at the time, it’s basically lunch.”

With a huffed laugh, Cassian wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you set off towards the cafe. “Well, we would’ve been here in time for breakfast if you hadn’t decided last night wasn’t enough for you.” He nipped at your ear before pressing a kiss against your cheek.

“Well, we also would’ve been here in time for brunch, at the very least, if you hadn’t pushed that poor male into the river. So, I guess we’re both to blame.”

The rest of the day remained incident free, however, Cassian’s promise to you didn’t stop him for glaring down every single male who dared to so much as pass by too closely. He knew that if it hadn’t been for your hand in his, acting as an anchor and reminding him that you were with him and that you weren’t going anywhere, he would be in serious shit with Rhys for terrorising his citizens. So instead, Cassian was happy to settle for the glares that he usually reserved for enemies on the battlefield, and the smug smirk that came from knowing he was the one walking through Velaris with you wrapped up in his arms.

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian imagine #marley writes

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mysticfalls01 · 5 months

Text

The Draw

(Williamson!reader)

The Wonder Twins Universe

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

During your international break you talked with Leah about your feelings for certain Catalonian captain. She couldn’t help but to smile while she listened how you talked about Alexia. She confirmed that moving to Barcelona was the perfect move.

Also, during the third day of the break Mapi called you. She hated how everything was going with Vilda, how he and his staff treated the girls and how they made them train extra hours. You let Mapi to vent out all her frustrations, all her feelings at that moment it was everything you could do for her. You were worried for Mapi and the girls.

After the international break Lucy, Keira and you returned to Barcelona.

Playing with the Lionesses gave you that energy boost that you needed, you guys had two out of two possible victories. While playing in Barcelona has been amazing nothing could compare to the feeling of playing alongside your twin.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You were over the moon, since Liga F started Barcelona hadn’t lost a single game. You had won a spot in the starting 11 and you couldn’t have been happier, with each game you only get better. Barcelona was really your home, your dream team.

Two weeks after the international break you and the girls found yourselves sitting down in the media room watching the Champions League draw for the group stages.

Until that moment the group was the next: FC Barcelona, Sporting de Lisboa, and Bayern München. There was only one team left to complete the group. Everyone turned their heads towards the TV to learn who would be their final rival.

“Joining in group D is going to be…”

The suspense was killing everyone in the room, that was until a team was mentioned.

“Arsenal”

As soon as that word left the mouth of the presenter you stood up and left the room. You couldn’t support the pity looks that your teammates were giving you.

You couldn’t believe it, of all the possible teams it had to be Arsenal, you were going to be playing against your previous team. Against some of your best friends and most importantly against Leah.

You had always played with Leah, never against her.

You couldn’t hear it but as soon as you left Mapi stood up and followed you. You ran towards the training ground as you needed fresh air, you were having a panic attack.

You felt a hand rubbing your back and that person said “y/n! Breath, follow my breath. One, two, three. Again y/nn one, two, three. You are doing amazing y/nn”

As soon as you kinda calmed down you realized that the person helping you was Mapi.

She gave you a few more minutes to calm down.

“Gracias por tu ayuda Mapi” (Thank you for helping me Mapi) you whispered and hugged her

“What is going on your head y/nn? Please talk to me.” She could imagine what was going on however she wanted to hear it from you.

“I’m not necessarily worried about playing against Arsenal itself. I’m worried about playing against Leah. All I’ve ever known is playing with her not against her, I knew that it could happen, but I expected it to happen later on”

Mapi knew that she would never understand what it meant to play against a sister, nerveless twin against twin. She knew that the only thing she could do was to help you to accept what just had happened.

“y/n I will never be able understand what you are feeling but I feel as if I have known Leah for ages because of everything you’ve told me. She would be proud of you if you give your everything against them. I know that nothing can break the bond that you have with her and if there is something that could do it wouldn’t be something as simple as a result from a match”

You needed to hear those words; your feelings were all over the place.

“y/nn why don’t you go back to your apartment and call her. I’ll explain everything to Jonatan so go back home and rest. If you miss one day of training nothing will happen. I’m sure that he will understand”

At that moment you couldn’t have been more grateful for Mapi.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

After your call with Leah you realized that Mapi was right. While it would be difficult to play against Leah you guys promised to give your best versions of yourselves against each other.

You were sitting in your living room still thinking about the draw when the sound of someone knocking on your door interrupted your thoughts.

You stood up and opened your door. It was Alexia.

“Hola y/n. Puedo pasar?” (Hi y/n may I come in?) She said with a soft voice.

As soon as she said those words you let her in.

“I don’t want to sound rude but what are you doing here Ale?”

“Well y/nn I just went to the store, and I brought popcorn and some ice cream. I was thinking that we could watch a movie to distract you for a while. What do you say y/nn?”

If after almost three months in Barcelona you hadn’t fallen in love with her, you just did. Usually, you were the one cheering up everyone else and not the other way around so, Alexia doing that for you just made your feelings for her grow even stronger.

“Let’s do it Ale”

While the movie was on you could help but to look down towards the Spaniard who was cuddling you. She felt you looking at her and then it finally happened.

You kissed her and she kissed back. You guys separated to breathe some air. You joined your foreheads and whispered “Let me take you out on a date Ale”

“Si, y/n” she whispered and gave you a kiss again.

You guys separated when you heard someone knocking on your door. You quickly fixed yourself and opened the door.

You couldn’t believe it, it was some of your teammates with Mapi at the front.

“y/n! We are having bonding time in your apartment so let us in”

She walked through your door and let herself and the team in.

You knew why Mapi was doing this. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to call someone as her your best friend.

“y/n is there something you want to tell us about Ale already being here?” She couldn’t help but to tease you while rising her eyebrow.

You never answered and just told them to sit down.

Barca was really your second family.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Arsenal vs Barcelona

How lucky were you. Your second Champions League game with Barcelona was going to be in the Emirates Stadium.

The team arrived to the stadium and everywhere you looked you couldn’t help but to remember everything you went through with Arsenal.

Before you knew it was time to line up in the tunnel. You greeted every single person of your former team. Finally, you reached the person next to Marta Torrejón and hugged her.

“Sis no matter the result nothing will affect our relationship. You are my sister, my best friend, and my twin. I love you y/n” Leah whispered

“Thanks Lee, I needed to hear those words sis. I love you sis”

You went back to your place and the teams walked out.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You heard the final whistle and finally you could breathe.

Barcelona won 0-4 with you assisting Aitana and scoring the last goal in the 88th minute, taking home the player of the match award. Even if you assisted and scored you didn’t celebrate them, you couldn’t do it. You had too much respect and you were grateful towards Arsenal and the gunners for everything they did for you and your sister.

You walked towards Leah, you knew that losing was difficult for her so, you hugged her.

“Can we swap jerseys Lee?”

“Of course y/nn”

You took off your Barcelona’s jersey and she took off hers. She hugged you and whispered “I’m so proud of you sis, you are on the way of becoming one of the greatest to ever play this game.”

You guys decided to sit down in the middle of the pitch looking how fans were leaving and how both teams greeted each other. You couldn’t help but to rest your head on Leah’s shoulder taking everything in. You guys stayed there until Katie gave Leah a sign to stand up while Patri gave you a sign indicating that Barcelona was going back to their hotel.

While hugging for a final time that day Leah whispered “Next time you guys won’t be so lucky”

You laughed at her words as you knew that it was her competitive nature talking.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

#barcelona femeni x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #engwnt x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #arsenal x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #wonder twins universe

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m4tthewsgf · 4 months

Text

Tell me where it hurts so I know where to love you the hardest

Matt Sturniolo x fem y/n

Based off of this request: could you do a matt hurt/comfort where the readers just struggling (like not showering, not getting out of bed, not eating, no motivation) and that’s really unlike her because she’s typically a very alive person, and it’s just really fluffy idk

Warnings: slight language ig just fluff

Author's Note: this is so short and bad I'm so sorry anon

---

I had it all. Or at least that's what people thought of me. Well, it wasn't far from the truth; I was surrounded by beautiful people, I bad great friends, an amazing boyfriend and family, a big house and a nice car. I truly did have it all and usually I wasn't one to complain because I truly felt blessed to have all of those things others wished for, but unfortunately they couldn't fill the emptiness I have been feeling recently in my heart.

If you asked my friends and family about me, they'd tell you that I was an outgoing person who seized every opportunity that landed in her hands. Gratefulness and hopefulness are two things that could easily characterise me. I was not usually one to turn down a nice party on a Saturday night or a trip to the movies with my friends, but if I'm being honest, the past few weeks have been really tough for me and all I wanted to do was just rot in my bed.

I couldn't really tell what is going on with me but my heart was just feeling heavy. There was this sadness inside me I simply couldn't get rid of no matter how hard I tried. And trust me, I had tried everything. Journaling, music, movies, meditating, drawing. None of these helped apart from sleep but even that had become a difficult task for a week.

My boyfriend, Matt, had taken notice in the shift of my mood and had been desperately trying to help me in any way he could think of. His trials obviously didn't go unappreciated by me, but I physically couldn't do it. He had been texting me for days on end, pleading me to allow him to take me out and get me out of the house but I rejected his offers every time. I felt bad. I could tell this was hurting him as well and hurting him was the last thing I wanted to do because Matt really was an angel sent from heaven. He gave me the liberty to breathe and I didn't want to lose him. Ever.

However, I couldn't let him see me like this. I hadn't showered and eaten in what felt an eternity and had slept for an hour or two in 4 days. I was a mess. An embarrassed mess, may I add. I had no reason to be sad. No reason to feel this empty when I had him.

I was supposed to be a lively person, someone joyful and jolly. Why the fuck was I like this?

“Baby?” I heard a familiar male voice from just outside my bedroom door. Matt. Shit.

“Y/n, I've called you 10 times what-“ he opened the door and saw me sitting in my bed with my back pressed against the bed frame, the only source of light coming from the TV on the wall in front of me. He took a deep breath at the sight of my obvious exhausted figure before closing the door and making his way up to me.

“Baby, what's wrong?” he asked as he sat down right next to me from the empty side of the bed. I didn’t look at him. I was too embarrassed to do so.

“Y/n” he said with a warning tone and placed his hand on my chin to turn my head towards him. My gaze was filled with guilt and I was on the verge of tears. He scanned my face for a minute or two without saying a word. The silence became unbearable, so I decided to speak with a breaking voice.

“Why did you come here?”

“Did you expect me to just sit in my house when you have been clearly not doing well for weeks and not answering my calls?” he spat, “I thought something happened to you, y/n!” his face was harsh and there was a hint of disappointment in it that was caused from my question.

“I am sorry,” a few teardrops fell from my eyes. He tilted his head and smiled softly at me. Matt let out a shaky breath before speaking again.

“No, don't. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, I should be the one apologising,” he cupped my face and wiped away the wetness on my cheeks.

“You have every right to be mad, I haven't been the best girlfriend lately and I understand your frustration,” I voiced truthfully. I didn't lack self awareness. I knew that this whole situation wasn't only exhausting me but him as well.

“I won't lie to you, I am frustrated,” he placed a kiss on my forehead, “but only because I'd rather you communicate your feelings with me than leave me guessing. I just want to help, baby” I let out a deep breath that I didn't even know I had.

His face was so angelic. His blue eyes piercing through mine, his lips forming a sad grin and his cheekbones even more prominent. The warmth of his fingers that were caressing my skin traveled to my heart, lighting up a small fire in the beating organ that has been drenching in cold for days.

“I love you, you know that right?” he asked me as his gaze jumped from one of my eyes to another. I nodded my head but he needed my words.

“No, I want to hear you say it.”

“I know you love me, Matt” my voice broke once more, a sound that made Matt’s eyebrows furrow.

“Then why won't you talk to me? I only want to help you, dear, but I can't do that if you don't tell me what hurts” he reasoned. More tears threatened to leave my eyes as he spoke.

“Tell me where it hurts so I know where to love you the hardest, y/n. And don't tell me it's nothing, I can tell you haven't been sleeping or eating properly” Matt added and pointed at my figure. It was the truth; I had lost a couple pounds and my dark circles were more vivid than ever. My internal struggles took a toll on my physical wellbeing as well.

“I don't know what it is Matt I just-“ I began to cry.

“Oh my love, c’mere,” he wrapped his arms around me and I hid my face into the crook of his neck, “I'm right here baby, you're not alone. I got you, I promise I'm not going to let you go through this alone” he whispered against my hair as he stroked it gently. He rocked us back and forth while letting words of encouragement and reassurance fall from his lips until my sobbing ceased.

“I am so tired,” I mumbled against his skin, “my heart- it feels heavy and I don't know why I am just so sad Matt, I don't know what to do” I weeped, the amount of my tears creating a small paddle on his white shirt.

“It's okay baby, everything will be okay. I'll make it okay, hm?” he hummed while his hand started rubbing my back.

“I am sorry for not talking to you about it I was just scared you were going to leave me or be disappointed in me because I'm not supposed to feel this way and-“

“Hey,” he pulled away, “you are human. Humans have feelings, a smart girl like you should know that” he chuckled and booped my nose playfully with his finger, earning a giggle from me.

“You shouldn't feel obligated to feel any certain type of way. Sadness is okay. Anger is okay. Your feelings are okay and valid even if you don't know what caused them,” Matt grabbed my hand and interlocked our fingers, “I am not disappointed or angry at you for feeling, y/n. And most certainly, I'm not going to leave you because of it” the boy laughed at my silly, unreasonable worries.

“But I'm supposed to love life and be happy all the time and cheerful and-“

“No, love. You're not supposed to be anything,” he shook his head, “you're supposed to be you. And you is a person who experiences not only positive emotions but negative ones as well. And that's more than okay and you shouldn't feel the need to hide either of them, not from me at least” he whispered with a loving smile.

I just looked at him in awe. His words felt like daggers not because they were hurtful but because they were exactly what I needed to hear. His honeyed voice touching all of my broken pieces, his gentle touch stitching up my wounds and his tender grin making me regain a sense of my spark after a while. What would I do without him?

“I love you” I simply stated and placed my arms around his neck, my body collapsing harshly into his. I felt his own hands coming up to my waist and holding me against him tightly.

“I love you too, baby, but I need you to promise me you'll talk to me next time you feel like this. You got me so worried honey, you don't even understand.”

“I am sorry I didn’t mean to worry you,” I brought my face in front of his and smiled genuinely at him, “I promise I'll reach out next time.”

“Thank you for talking to me about it,” Matt said before placing his lips on mine, the kiss a mixture of love and worry.

“Now, you sit here like the pretty girl you are while I run us a warm bath. I will order us food and we can watch any movie you want, mkay?” he cooed after pulling away and pressing his forehead against mine.

“Even the notebook?” I beamed. He hated the notebook.

“Even the notebook” he chuckled and rolled his eyes at me, “and I'm not leaving. I'm staying for as long as you need, until I make sure you're actually okay” he reassured me. I smiled fondly at him and kissed him one more time.

Matt ended up staying with me for the rest of the week even though I felt better the next morning. His presence brought me so much comfort just like a teddy bear does to a little child. He made sure I ate well and took care of my hygiene. He even read me books to help me fall asleep on his chest, knowing that his voice was equivalent to the most beautiful harmony in my ears and worked just like a lullaby to me.

Since I couldn't pinpoint what hurt me so badly, he loved every part of me. He always did, but he ensured to love me extra hard on the days when I was in pain. One could say that he even babied me and I couldn't care less. His thoughtfulness and caring side only made me fall even harder for him.

Matt taught me that I should feel my feelings and not cover them up like they are just some damps on a wall you could easily paint over. He taught me that it's okay not to be okay and be vulnerable. It didn't matter if I came from a wealthy family or not, if I was short or tall, chubby or skinny, introverted or extroverted. I was human.

And as a human, I was allowed to feel. I was supposed to feel every humane emotion there is. Anger, sadness, frustration, disgust, fear... I was supposed to feel it all. And Matt made sure to be my safe place, the lighthouse in the dark sea, to do just that. He was my comfort. He was my home.

"Baby?" I mumbled and felt my eyes getting heavy. We were laying on my bed, our faces inches away from each other's.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he pressed a kiss on my cheek.

"You're my safety" I voiced as loud as I could before drifting away into sleep with a silly smile on my face. Matt's heart fluttered against his chest, his cheeks turning crimson.

"Always, darling. I love you more than anything" he whispered and pulled me closer to him, his lips placing delicate kisses all over my features whilst grinning stupidly against my soft skin.

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lskisms · 9 months

Text

(not) strong, c. berzatto

syn. you think you traded all your luck on being able to wake up next to carmen every morning because it doesn't look like you have any left to spare. no matter; carm is here to patch you up.

gen. romance, angst.

warnings. crying, reader has a bad fucking day, carm is a sweetheart, mentions of food and eating.

word count. 1.8k.

you’re lucky that bad days tend to be few and far between; how could they not be when you have the privilege of waking up next to carmen berzatto every morning? he, of course, denies the effect he has on your life, says if anyone’s making a difference here, it’s you. but you really can’t downplay the warmth and light that sharing a bed with him, sharing a life with him brings to you. seeing him first thing in the morning is always the best part of your waking hours, a nice pick-me-up before you go to work; you have never taken that for granted.

but there are days where even seeing your boyfriend isn’t enough to wipe the slate clean, to erase that familiar sense of dread that makes its home in the pit of your stomach for you to carry around all day. having carmen with you, body or spirit (through text, of course), always momentarily eases the pain, but when he’s gone, when you have to stop texting, it comes back, agonizing and sharp like a blade twisting in your gut. all you can do is count down the hours, minutes, seconds until you get to go home and see him again.

today, it seems, is one of those days. regardless of the fact that you woke up feeling well, sharing a few soft kisses with carmy in bed before he made you breakfast and left you to your own devices so he could get to work, it seemed like the universe was working against you: you got to the train late, meaning you made it to work late, meaning you started the day off behind and if that wasn’t enough, you just couldn’t seem to get anything right. time has moved by at a snail’s pace, almost like the world is taunting you, wanting to drag this torture out for as long as fucking possible.

and it is. it is torture in all the worst ways, excruciating and harrowing. you didn’t have time to slip away and text carmy the whole day, barely had enough time for a lunch break, and even when you had taken your lunch break, typically a reset for you, things still were entirely awful. you’re astounded you even made it through the day without breaking into tears.

in public, at least, because the second you get home, it all comes rushing at you. the door closes behind you and the tears will not stop, no matter how hard you will them to just go away. you can’t even be bothered to hang your bag up on the coatrack, letting it drop to the floor instead on top of your different pairs of shoes left stranded at carmy’s front door. you trudge through the apartment into the bedroom, change into comfier clothes (a pair of shorts and one of carm’s sweaters), and lay down. it’s the only thing you can think to do after a rough day while you wait for your love to come home to you.

he does, eventually, though much later than you do; with his hours at the restaurant, it’s not often he comes home any time before eleven pm, and even that, that’s pushing it. it’s maybe closing in on half past eleven when you hear the door open and carmy’s voice, your name sounding as perfect as ever (nobody says it like he does, you maintain, your name has never sounded prettier than it does coming from him), and you become acutely aware that you have completely wasted the evening.

carm’s footsteps draw closer and then you hear him again at the door, a sweet lilt of “baby? you doin’ alright?”

and that, for some reason, just sends you over the edge. you’re not facing him, which is lucky, but you shake your head and close in on yourself, drawing your knees to your chest and making yourself smaller. you’re trying not to cry, not again, but it feels like the only way to react, the only way to get all of this out.

“sweetheart…” his voice is quiet and then he’s crawling up the mattress to lay beside you, shoving himself in the small space left between you and the wall his bed is pushed against. when he sets his gaze on you, all soft and clear blue sky, you fall apart, not sobbing but not holding back the tears anymore.

for a few moments, carm doesn’t know what to do. even though he’s seen you like this before, he still hesitates because you aren’t communicating what you need from him right now. still, the best bet, as always, seems to be wrapping you up and holding your pieces together.

so he does. he scoots in close, tucks your head under his chin, and wraps his arms around you. and he doesn’t say anything else, just lets you cry into his shirt, no doubt staining it with your tears, but if he cares, he doesn’t show it. you’re sure part of the lack of speaking is from him just being a little awkward about it, but still, you’re thankful that he isn’t pressing you on it.

when the tears finally do stop, he waits for you to pull back, waits for you to make the first move. he meets your gaze head on, the arm that isn’t pinned under your head moving so that he can wipe away stray tears caught in your eyelashes or on your skin.

“what’s all this about?” he asks softly, tipping his head so that your foreheads touch. “what’s got you all worked up?”

you shrug with one shoulder, casting your eyes down, letting them focus on the neckline of his shirt. “i don’t know. today was just… a really… really bad day, carm.”

he nods, brushes hair out of your eyes, lets his thumb stroke your cheekbone. “you can tell me about it. i’m listenin’.”

so you do. you recount the whole day to him, every gritty little detail, and he listens intently, like what you’re saying is the most important thing in the world to him. and maybe it is because he treats everything you do and say like that; he takes everything to heart and turns even the smallest things into something big and monumental.

you realize as you’re talking that all of the bad things that happened are so inconsequential and it makes you feel kind of stupid. carmen comes home and complains about much bigger issues all the time, and you listen, of course, offer advice when he needs it; but his issues are always so much bigger than yours, there are things, lives, that ride on his decisions going over well. not like yours, not like this. and it gets you worked up again, laughing when the tears burn at your waterline again.

“hey, hey, what’s all this?” he asks, ducking his head to look at you when you try to turn away. “why’re you cryin’ again?”

“i really don’t know, carm,” you answer tearfully, shaking your head like the movement will get rid of it all. “guess i feel kinda stupid. i’m not strong like you are.”

he mimics you, his turn to shake his head, curls falling into his eyes. “you don’t need to be, alright? you don’t have to be strong like i am. i can be strong enough for the both of us. that’s my job.”

“are you sure? i just-”

his hand, rough and warm, comes to rest on your cheek and you look up at him. his gaze is gentle in a way that he reserves just for you. “i’m positive. i can’t do much, but i can do this, so let me… ‘kay?”

you nod, closing your eyes and muttering back an “okay.” he leans to press a lingering kiss to your forehead before tilting back down, his nose brushing against yours. you lay like that for moments that stretch into forever, his breath hot against your mouth and his arms warm around you, your own personal weighted blanket.

“i’m not that strong, by the way,” he says quietly, breaking the silence. when you make a noise of confusion, he clarifies. “you said i’m strong, but i’m not. not really. i got a lot of fucked up shit goin’ on ‘n half the time, i’m spaced the fuck out… y’know, and i worry that you’re gonna figure that out one ‘a these days, but… i wanna be strong for you. i try really fuckin’ hard it almost scares me. so i mean it when i say i can be strong for us both because i want that to be the truth, y’know?”

you wrap an arm around him and nod, pressing your face into the soft material of his tshirt. the thank you you say into his shirt is wet and thick with tears, but he doesn’t seem to mind all that much, wrapping his arms tight around you and holding you against him; he doesn’t seem to mind a lot of the things you do, just takes them in stride and adjusts, which is sweet.

“you don’t need to thank me for anything,” he says into your hair, rubbing your back. “it’s my job to take care’a you, so that’s what i’m gonna do, alright? now… you eat dinner yet?”

the scoff he lets out when you tell him that no, you haven’t, might come off as mean to anyone else, but to you, it’s anything but. this is, for all intents and purposes, what he was made to do and this is proof of that.

“‘course ya haven’t. alright, what d’you want, hm? i’ll make whatever you’re cravin’, so just tell me what it is.”

you rattle off your order and when you pull away to look him in the face, he’s got a smile that belongs solely to you. he kisses you all soft and gentle, lips warm against yours, the one thing you’ve really wanted all day, and it dismantles that dread you’ve been feeling, takes its house apart piece by loving piece until it’s razed.

“you really gonna make me a grilled cheese right now? it’s almost midnight.”

carm lets loose a breathy chuckle, kisses you again, quick this time. “yes, chef. not letting my baby go to bed on an empty stomach. you know i don’t play around like that. what kind of cheese you want?”

you know he doesn’t play when it comes to making food for you, so you tell him to surprise you. you’ll eat anything he makes anyways because when he makes it for you, it’ll always taste good.

#carmy x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #.thebear #.carmy #.fic

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orionremastered · 11 days

Note

Are there another part for shapeshifter golden tiger reader :D i appreciate your writing so much! 💕

I've gotten another ask regarding a shifter!reader, so Imma just pile em up into one big AU. Send more shifter requests to have them added to the list! Even outside of gotham with other dc heroes would be cool. Like they've all got connections with other shifters online or sumin

shifter gang

Masterlist

Part One

Golden Pt. 2

It's been a few days since you last saw the pair, and maybe you're okay with that. Nights have been quiet yet cold, and you're getting excited about the temperature change that comes with spring.

Night patrols have been close to uneventful; save a kid or two there, maul a criminal of two here- the usual, in other words.

You're expecting the usual again tonight, just quiet patrolling and nothing extreme-

Look, you haven't been here for long, okay? Optimism, got it?

You're on the prowl for a missing girl, one that the bats no doubt have on their radar too, but you never know- you might get to her first. You went to the apartment where she lives and are confident that you could pinpoint her on her scent alone.

It's been an hour or two since you started looking and finally, you catch a whiff of the little girl's scent. You draw closer to an abandoned building, sneaking through structures to hide from the unforgiving street lights that flicker, forgotten by the city.

You jump onto a dumpster and into a broken window above it, landing quietly on the dusty floorboards. You can hear crying and the little girl's scent gets stronger.

Someone snaps at her as you draw closer, creeping up the stairs to the second floor. Thankful that the floor doesn't creak, you continue through the corridor of apartments, the number of each room fading from their painted places upon doors.

The screaming gets louder until you stop at a door, slightly ajar. You nudge it open with your nose and- you've luck- it's silent too.

"Shut the fuck up, dammit, you'll-"

The man doesn't get much more out of his mouth before you pounce, toppling both of you to the floor. Your fangs lock around his wrist, making him cry out in pain as you reach for the gun in his hand and throw it to the farthest corner of the room.

"Get-"

You snarl, pushing a set of sharp claws into the top of his spine. He yells curses that one should not around a child.

The window shatters beside you and two figures gracefully land in the room, one larger and one smaller by the sound of the thuds. You turn your head to glare, teeth bared and gleaming before you realise it's Robin and Batman- the duo one only fears if they're a criminal in the light of justice.

The man continues screaming, but not after giving one threatening snarl, deeper than any other you ever have.

"Leave the rest of this to us," Robin says calmly, and you're certain you like him more than the brooding knight in the corner near the gun.

He's allergic to those things anyway, so it's not like you're worried.

You step off the man's back and slowly approach the girl. She scrambles back and you remember you have blood still on your fangs. Still, you lower your head and attempt to look as harmless as a big cat can.

You can't grin when she reaches out to pet your head in case she sees your bloodied teeth. Once she realises you won't do her any harm, she scratches your neck and ears. Purring, you nudge her gently and lower yourself to the floor.

She's small enough to climb onto your back without it being too much of a struggle to stand and walk- she must be only five. She giggles, eyes red with tears, but she finds comfort in the warmth of your fur.

"GCPD has been called," the Bat says, glaring down at the criminal. You and Robin do the same. "Would you like us to take the girl to a hospital?"

You raise your head to look at him and flash your fangs, a solid 'no'.

"Whatever you think is best," Robin says, the Bat looking at him with a stare only a father could give to his son. "But wait, before you go-"

Robin smooths the short furs of your head and scratches underneath your ear. It takes you by surprise at first, but you don't snarl or bare your fangs at him, so he continues until he feels as though his father's glare has gone on long enough. "I told my siblings I'd pat you first. It's a bet, the only one I have participated in so far-" Batman snorts- "And I have won. As expected, I have succeeded."

You make a sound of amusement.

"Perhaps we shall work together again," the older of the two says. You huff, knowing you did all of this yourself, but nod anyway.

Perhaps it's time to make some friends -ones that aren't drowning in coffee and assignments, anyway.

Taglist: @veunho, @chevysstuffs, @carewerff, @xxrougefangxx, @yorkeylover

#batfam #batfamily x reader #damian wayne x reader #batfamily #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #tim drake x reader

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rad-batson · 1 year

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The Robins as RA’s Because I Said So

Credentials: I’m an RA, trust me.

Dick Grayson: The “Cool” RA

His friends told him he’d be great at it so he applied

Holds your hair back when you’re throwing up in the bathroom

Gives life lessons at every opportunity even when you don’t want them

Sees his residents in the hallway and proceeds to talk their ear off

Knocks on your door if he hasn’t seen you in a few days to make sure you’re doing alright

Has the “I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed” face on point

You actually feel bad when he catches you drinking in the halls :(

Jason Todd: The Cool RA

Wanted something to pad his resume so he applied

Will help you hide a body. “Just ask.” You didn’t, but you can’t remember how it came up either

Doesn’t care about the Rules, per se, but he will judge you for lacking common sense

“You know what, Derek? I’m writing you up just for being stupid. You could have at least put it in a paper bag.”

Organizes all of his events last minute, best attendance in the building

One day, he lets it slip that he has a 4.3 GPA

No one believes him until he actually shows them with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face

Tim Drake: The Invisible RA

Didn’t want to go apartment hunting so he applied for the free housing

Do you even have an RA? Does he even live here?

Apparently, he’s like triple-majoring or something, but like…no one knows what for. Or how. (He's really Undecided)

Does the bare minimum, but somehow still excels at his job

Everyone who sees him has a completely different description of what he looks like

One person starts the rumor that he’s a vampire, which is only made worse when someone sees him looking ghostly pale while chugging some weird red drink (Ultra Red Monster) in the middle of the night

Stephanie Brown: The Best Friend RA

One of those people who actually likes living in student housing so she applied

Gossips with everyone

“You didn’t hear this from me but-“ and “What am I, your mother?” are her most common phrases

Will probably get fired just because of how many university secrets she’s spilled

Keeps her door open at all times, her room is super cute too

One of her residents walks in and says, “You won’t believe what my boyfriend did this time!” Stephanie is already popping popcorn.

Will let you get away with shit if you make a good case for yourself

Damian Wayne: The Try-Hard RA

It’s a tradition in his family now, and he takes those very seriously, so he applied

A troublemaker’s worst nightmare

He will catch you drinking. No one knows how. Even his boss thinks it’s suspicious.

Seconds from a mental breakdown at all times of the day

Absolutely livid when the event he spent the least amount of effort on gets the best attendance (He just brought all of his art supplies to the lounge and taught people how to draw)

Writes incident reports like they’re addressed to the Pentagon

A resident comes to his door crying because her grandmother passed away, and Damian completely blanks on what to do so he lets her into his room and gives her a really long hug while she calms down, then he sits her down and lets her vent for an hour. A week later, she comes back and thanks him for being there when she needed it. It sticks with him for years.

#batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #damian wayne #batfam #robin #batfamily headcanons #dc robin #dc #tw death

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riaki · 4 months

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dog treats (for humans) | yuuji itadori x reader

pt.5 of christmas event! vry short sorry, a day late but it works as fluff for the jjk ep today !?

"[name], look! i baked something!"

your immediate thoughts are something along the lines of oh, no.

yuuji's a decent cook. or at least, that's what you like to believe; hours of the two of you making messes in your kitchen after ruining the recipe book you were following prove otherwise. still, he's not half bad. and there was that one time he taught his roommate to make meatballs; something vague like 'a legacy of hotpot meatballs'. that's your boyfriend for you.

baking, though, is certainly not his forte. as demonstrated by the giant blob of half-baked somethings on the tray; an amalgamation of dough stuck to the wax paper.

you're not quite sure what you're looking at when you enter the kitchen of your apartment; it's an absolute mess. there's flour everywhere, and some strange looking leftover dough sitting in a clump on the counter. it smells a bit weird, but that's not new. what draws your attention the most other than the flour coating the polaroids on the fridge or the four spatulas on the counter is the mess on his person.

he's coated in flour. there's dough sticking to his cheeks, almost like whiskers on his face— but that does nothing to dampen the sunny grin on his lips. his hair is ruffled, clumps of flour and powdered sugar clinging to the tips. you can just picture him mussing his hair in frustration, fingers running through the soft pink strands, the color of grapefruit and strawberry lemonade on a midsummer evening.

"what exactly did you make?" you asked, glancing him up and down. he's wearing the holiday apron you bought him on a whim; it's so dirty that you don't even recognize the pattern of the golden retriever stitched to the front. it looks more like a lima bean now.

he grins, pushing the baking tray towards you as if you're supposed to come to some grand realization of what exactly he did make.

"i made dog treats! for fushiguro. you think he'll like 'em?"

"those are dog treats...?"

you certainly wouldn't've been able to tell from first sight. but that explains the peculiar smell; it must've been a product of whatever he was doing.

"yeah! aren't they great?" he laughs, full of mirth, and you catch his smile on your own lips. his enthusiasm is infectious.

"they seem more like regular cookies." you note, observing the mess on the tray. the edges are burnt a gentle caramel crisp; if you didn't know better, you would've definitely taken the initiative to make cute cookies with your cookie cutters and frost them however you like.

you're too lost in your thoughts to notice what he's doing until it's too late— your stupidly beloved boyfriend has broken off a chunk and taken an equal sized bite out of it, chewing with all the thoughtfulness of a michelin star chef. there's a few crumbs in the corner of his mouth, and if not for the contents he probably would've asked you to wipe some jam on his lips and treat yourself to a sweet treat on his cheeks.

"yuuji!" you reach out, snatching the tray from him and setting it down before you scowl out the cheeky look on his full cheeks. "spit it out." you demanded, and you're faintly reminded that it's probably fine for him to be eating them because he's acting like a puppy anyway.

he just grins at you through a mouthful, shaking his head vigorously and swallowing as he pumps his fists, and you can practically see the stars in his eyes. "'s great! you shbould try ib, bwabe."

you just roll your eyes (albeit fondly), reluctantly reaching over to the tray to break off a chunk of the dog treats(?). you give it a good feel and sniff before nibbling off a piece, trying to discern the taste in your mouth. you're starting to think that yuuji might've mistakenly made regular cookies and called them dog treats. there was no sign of raw meat or anything on the counters, which only strengthened your suspicions.

"hey, it's actually not that bad." you marveled, glancing up at him again. he's watching you expectantly, waiting like a little puppy for your response. his eyes light up like stars; far too excited for such a weak answer as yours, but his enthusiasm shines through either way.

"right? i was thinking, maybe we could keep them to ourselves..."

"don't get carried away, yuu." you sighed, shaking your head. but he just grins, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to press an insistent smooch to your lips.

he laughs, sending vibrations through your skin as he peppers your face with floury eskimo kisses. "you'd rather me gift him these things? he'd sic his dogs on me!"

"...maybe you're right. let's just keep them, then."

my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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