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luvtak · 2 days

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mr. sandman, bring me a dream

✧ pairing 7 dream x reader

✧ genre/tw fluff fluffy fluff fluff, what i think dating them would be like <3 an embarrassing amount of run-on sentences i'm sure.... the dreamies being the most perfect boyfriends to exist, mostly unedited

✧ w/c 2293 (about 300 words each!!)

✧ a/n back to my roots writing for nct... also,,, not the dreamies being my ult group but my last group to do these headcanons for :/ i have so much fun writing these little ideas and dreams about them let me know if you want more!

MARK truly the definition of wrapped around your finger… tells everyone about you every day of his life. Smiles at everything you say and calls you the cutest names. Makes sure everyone knows that you’re taken for life–no ifs about it. Tells you about his whole day, down to the most unimportant details. Kisses you all around your face and gets red seeing you so flustered. Constantly saying the worst pickup lines. Always always makes time for you even with his busy schedule. Talks to your family on the phone and becomes best friends with your siblings. Lets you win during video games and pretends that you’re just so much better than him. Never comes empty-handed–if you invite him over he’s bringing some sort of present he can’t help it. Wraps you up in at least three layers when it looks a little cold outside. Starts bringing up ideas for a Halloween couple’s costume in January. Celebrates your birthdays and accomplishments like his own. Holds you close to him in any moment of rest, the members are around? He’s only bringing you in closer. I’m sorry to say this, but he is definitely one of those people who refer to you as a “we”... “we watched that movie last week!” or “sorry, we can’t come, we have plans.” Would never even think about fighting with you and when it can’t be avoided, he is always the first to apologize. Walks around draped over you, his neck falling onto your shoulder and clumsily shuffling you along. Steals your phone to take silly pictures of himself, and you end up having 500 selfies of Mark making the same five kissy faces. Fixes your clothes/jewelry/hair as the day takes its toll. Kisses your wrist whenever you hold hands. Lovely and forever committed to giving you the sweetest existence possible.

RENJUN My angel boy<3 would be the most loving boyfriend if you’re able to get past him giving you sm attitude. Lovingly scolds you 24/7 365. Pouts if you don’t say you love him back or forget to kiss him before you leave. Steals your sweaters and jewelry. Makes you laugh so hard you cry, then kisses the tears away. Has the worst case of cute aggression when he see’s you like he can’t help but take a bite out of you. Whenever you ask him to do something he’ll roll his eyes and scoff but still gets up to do it anyway. Says your name so sweetly and with so much love it could be a term of endearment. Sings to you when you’re sad. Holds you so tight when you sleep, like he could absorb you into his own skin. Carries a picture of you in his wallet everywhere he goes. Gets genuinely annoyed when other people know something about you that he didn’t–wants to know everything, especially the embarrassing stuff. Acts of service king, does things for you and expects nothing but a kiss in return. Gives you the first bite of his food. Forehead kisses 100% of the time. Extremely tenderhearted, wants to be loved and love in return with nothing holding him back. Knows your schedule down to a T. Shakes his head at every joke you tell, but still grants you a laugh. Kisses you slowly and earnestly even if theres people around. Drops the most earth-shattering confessions of love at random moments and just expects you to move on. Matching accessories are a must!! And he will be ready to break up if your forget it one day (we have seen how he is with the dreamies friendship rings). Wraps himself completely around you when no one is around, and stays that way until one of you has to get up. Loves completely and wholeheartedly and is a perfect perfect boy.

JENO Shy and perpetually flustered, cannot believe he got you fr. Alternates between the cockiest boy you’ve ever met and the most oblivious creature around. Is so in awe of you, cannot get over you choosing him. A big baby of a boyfriend. Body slouched over yours at all times. Tells everyone it isn’t obvious how unbelievably whipped he is for you than giggles when you call him a pet name. Loves when you fawn over him lol, would feel so good about himself when you laugh at his jokes or wear an outfit because he said you looked pretty in it. Definitely the kind of boy who gets you a necklace with his initials on it. Is somehow even more smiley when you’re around. His love language is 100% acts of service–helping you with chores and making dinner, he desperately wants to wash your hair and help take your makeup off. Always takes you home himself and makes you call him before you go to bed. Kisses you all over when you’re sad and squeezes you so tight you can’t breathe. Puts his lips right over your ear and whispers so you can hear him in loud places, sometimes telling terrible jokes to see you laugh. Constantly on the phone with you–will get yelled at by his members and staff to focus on his schedule. Takes you on long drives and lets you have the aux the whole time, smiles even when he hates the song. Snuggles up to you and has you in an iron grip all night; wakes up periodically to tell you to stop wiggling. Literally a broken record of “oh my s/o would like this!” and “you would never believe what my s/o told me…” Tucks you into his sweater when you’re cold and always carries extra clothes because he knows you’ll forget. Could never hide his feelings for you, it’s written all over–hairbands and your favorite snacks in his cabinets. Is so so so in love with you, and would never even think about being embarrassed of it. <3

HAECHAN Sweet as cherry pie. Silly and charming and the kindest boy you know. Lives his life attached to you, hands on your hips and kisses pressed everywhere he can reach. Never goes a day without telling you he loves you in the most sickeningly sweet ways possible. Listens to every word you say, goes as far as telling other people to be quiet so he can hear you better. Serenades you with the most obnoxious renditions of love songs and coos when you make faces at him. Teases you endlessly–tickles and jokes and ridiculous nicknames, but would never let anyone else make a joke at your expense. Sleeps fully on top of you, head pressed under your chin and hands slipped under your sleep shirt. Celebrates you and your relationship with all of him, always the loudest voice singing happy birthday and the prettiest flowers congratulating you for an achievement at work or school. Speaks to you so softly and with so much compassion you almost get whiplash when you see him around the dreamies. Brings home sweet treats and little keepsakes from his day out. Will watch a movie or listen to a new song and note all the parts you’d like so he can play it for you later and speak to you about it. Unbelievably protective, not in a toxic way, but he wants so much to be able to take care of you and keep you safe–hand pressed on your back while you walk through crowds, and his hand protecting you from hitting your head as you get in the car. Has lists of important days in his notes app, cataloging gifts he could get you and your order at all your favorite restaurants. The perfect silly boyfriend, caring and lovely and everything you need

JAEMIN Marry this man. Has been committed and steadfast in his dedication to you since you met. Extremely serious when it comes to your heart and your feelings. The first to say I love you or to apologize after a fight–would never raise his voice at you or say things he didn’t mean. Is always feeding you, either a complete meal that took him an hour to make or the most perfect bowl of ramyeon you’ve ever had. Constantly sending you pictures of the cats. LOVES pda–kisses you in front of everyone and laughs when they groan, cuddles with you on the practice room couch, and rolls his eyes when the dreamies gag. Always kisses you with soft hands on your cheeks and the prettiest smile. Buys you a keepsake from everywhere they go on tour and gives it to you in a huge suitcase and will not feel ashamed in the slightest. Somehow finds out how to bring you up in every conversation, “oh they really like this song” or “thats actually their favorite movie you know…” you would truly never have to worry about anything with this man, he’s gonna take care of everything, a future airport dad if i’ve ever seen one. Sends tiktoks of cute animals and pouts if you don’t like them right away. Buys you silly sweatshirts and phonecases and demands you wear them proudly as a symbol of his everlasting love. Out of all of the boys, I feel like he is the most likely to give you a promise ring, and in my heart, I know he would have his name engraved on the inside–a quiet confession only the two of you know about. Sleeps directly on top of you, I just know it… holds onto you in every crowd. So many conversations between little kisses and I love yous. Always carries your things, whether it be a bag or shoes that got too uncomfortable his hands are open and ready whenever you need them. The most perfect boy in the world, and whose surprised?

CHENLE truly your best friend in the entire world, f2l in its entirety… would roast you every minute of every day but if anyone else even dared he is shutting that shit down right away. His arm has a permanent residence on your waist. Giggles at you when you’re annoyed at him but apologizes anyway. Makes you watch him play basketball at 11 pm and laughs when you say you're cold and sleepy, but takes you home right away. Will kiss you in front of anyone–loves it when you get all shy and flustered. Always trying to give you expensive presents and rolling his eyes when you tell him to reign it in. dog dates with Daegal!!! Talks about you so causally that the dreamies didn’t realize you were his girlfriend until he kissed you goodbye, and they were all so dumbfounded. Will watch anything if you like it and will tell you it sucked with a smile on his face before kissing you as an apology. Huge bouquets for any anniversary or birthday. Wraps his arms around you and rocks you around, whispering sweet words that he’d deny if you told anyone about. Stares at you 24/7 and gives you his 100-watt smile. Goes out of his way to help you–buys your groceries, helps wash your hair, picks you up, and takes you wherever you need to go–but always denies it. Begs you to wear his clothes, bonus points if it’s something that has his name on it, or some nct merch. Has an iron grip on your hand at any given point and giggles when you try to get free. Will listen to literally anything you tell him. Smiles into kisses and sighs when you pull away. Is so domestic and lovely in everything he does, even if sometimes he is the biggest menace.

JISUNG so so so shy, truly does not know how to have a s/o in public lmao. When you’re alone he’s the cutest most confident boy in the world but as soon as there is another person around he does not know you. He makes it obvious that it's just because he’s awkward, but sometimes you definitely do have to tell him to stop being a weirdo and to hold your hand. Constantly makes fun of people with you and is always ready to hear some hot goss. Is always listening to you–even if everyone in the room is talking over you, he will be looking at you with his full attention and urging you to go on. Laughs at everything you say even if it's not funny. Kisses your cheek every morning first thing, and thinks you look so cute cuddled up into the covers. Piggy-backs you everywhere: you drank a little too much or it's too early… up you go! You being comfortable and happy is his priority in any situation, and if anyone including himself is disrupting that he is dealing with it immediately. Whether that means complaining to one of hyungs to help him or going straight to the source of the issue, he’s going to try and help you, even if it’s not like him to speak up for himself–you’re the most important thing to him. Tries to teach you nct dances and gets unbearable secondhand embarrassment when he sees you mess up. Almost exposes your relationship once a month. Is wrapped around you every single moment you’re alone, even if it’s just for a second–someone leaves the room? Jisung is suddenly fully enveloping you. Thinks pda is so embarrassing but would try so hard to be more openly affectionate with you. Blushes to his roots when you sweet talk him no matter how long you’ve been together. Kisses your hands when it’s cold outside and wouldn’t even think about giving you anything of his if you needed it. The sweetest, shyest boy, and so wonderful–loving him and being loved in return would be the loveliest gift.

#k-labels #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #jeno x reader #mark x reader #jaemin x reader #haechan x reader #chenle x reader #park jisung x reader #nct dream #nct

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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days

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finding freedom

words: 4.2k

warnings: emotion abuse (not from rafe), potential physical abuse (again not from rafe), friends to lovers, brief violence, brief mention of fatphobia/readers body size, soft!rafe (but he still punches someone bc rafe is gonna rafe)

“can we please just not do this today?” you sigh, smoothing your hand down your freshly straightened hair, needing every strand to be set in place for midsummers tonight.

“i’m not doing anything, can you not be a bitch?” scott groans, fixing his tie in the mirror.

you sigh just quietly enough for scott not to hear. the start of your relationship was perfect. he never called you names or hurt you’re feelings, but that changed quickly, and now you’re numb to his insults. you love has faded into nothing, feeling like you’re more of a glorified maid than an actual girlfriend.

“i just don’t want any problems at midsummers tonight.” you say. “the whole town will be there.” at least everyone in the town whose approval you care about.

“i won’t start any problems if you don’t.” scott says, walking out of your shared bedroom. you never should have agreed to move in with him so quickly, but you were getting tired of your parents overbearing nature, only for them to leave for florida permanently a month after you moved out, giving you no other option on where to live.

you check your teeth for lipstick in the mirror once more before following him out.

you ride to the country club in silence, scott staring at the road ahead while you gaze out the window, eyes turning glassy as you slip out of focus like you have more and more lately.

you arrive at the celebration, knowing scott won’t open the door for you. he hasn’t in weeks. you step out, adjusting your dress that had ridden up from being sat down in scotts sports car.

you walk side by side with scott, instead of hand in hand. you wonder if people even know that you’re a couple. if they would ever suspect it when you certainly don’t act like it.

“what do you want to drink?” scott asks, already eyeing the bar.

“i don’t want anything.” you say, hoping that will stop scott from drinking too early as well, but instead he walks away, leaving you alone.

“hey.” a familiar voice purrs out as you turn around quickly.

“rafe!” a smile spreads across your face as you see one of your oldest friends. he quickly wraps you in a tight but still appropriate hug.

“no scott?” rafe asks, looking around hopefully.

“he’s um… already at the bar.” you laugh gently, feeling the awkward tension rise already. scott loves to have you all to himself, which caused you to lose touch with a lot of your friends, even rafe who you used to see at least every other day.

“already.” rafe hums out, words stinging.

“yeah, i should probably catch up with him…” you trail off, walking away leaving rafe looking at you with evident disappointment.

you find scott amongst the crowd, but don’t bother making your way towards him as you spy kelce and his sister sat at a table in the corner.

“hey!” you smile and take the open seat.

“girl, its been so long! where have you been?” kelces little sister asks.

“uh-” you’re about to make something up, when thankfully kelce saves you.

“oh shit, i love this song!” he hops up from his seat, chair clattering against the sun bleached hardwood. “dance with me, y/n?”

“yeah, sure.” you take kelces hand, happy that you seem to have slipped back into your natural rhythm as you dance, his hand high up on your waist to avoid any cries of indecency by the other attendees.

you dance with kelce through a couple songs before being passed off to one of his friends you don’t know very well, but you’re happy all the say, laughing as the crowd of younger folk grows as the songs shift more modern.

“y/n, can i have your next dance?” rafe asks, scooping you away from your current partner with ease.

“of course.” you feel your cheeks blushing unwillingly from the way he holds you close to his chest.

“babe, lets go home.” scott suddenly appears next to you.

you take an obvious step away from rafe, putting distance between your bodies for both of your sakes. “i’m not ready yet.” you say, attempting to keep your voice soft.

“well i am. so come on.” scott grabs your forearm, pulling you away.

you manage to look back at rafe as you get dragged towards the door. “sorry.” you mouth, hoping he doesn’t rush after you and cause a scene, even though you can see the anger on his features.

scott finally lets go when you’re out the door as you follow him across the parking lot towards his obnoxious bright yellow sportscar.

“give me the keys.” you say.

“i can drive.” scott says, waving you off.

“you are drunk!” “i said i can drive, woman!” scott shouts at you, ripping open the drivers side door and depositing himself in front of the wheel.

“then im not going with you!” you yell.

“fine, stay here for all i care!” scott slams the door shut and doesn’t even glance back at you as he backs out of the spot, wheels squealing as he leaves the parking lot.

“fuck.” you curse, heading back towards the country club. you make it to the front step before you even realize that you’re crying, tears escaping down your face. you quickly brush them away, hoping kelce or maybe topper or sarah can give you a ride home.

you take a minute to calm yourself before stepping back in, the atmosphere so different to how you feel inside.

you see rafe stood in front of the window to your right, clearly watching everything that went down in the parking lot.

“rafe-”

“are you okay?” he questions, head tipping forward, staring at you with intense eyes.

“i-” you clear your throat, holding back the tears as you force a smile on your face. “of course im okay.”

“i see the way he treats you. its wrong.”

“we’re fine.” you shake your head, voice as loud as you can make it without cracking, yet still a whisper.

“do you want to spend the night at tanneyhill? the guest bedroom is open for you always.”

“i-i guess that would be fine.” you shrug. “just cause hes drunk. he… he isn’t drunk often.” its a bold faced lie, yet you still tell it, covering for your boyfriend and dampening the anger still sketched across rafes brow.

“mhm.” rafe leads you back outside. he doesn’t talk to you for the ride back to tanneyhill, but it doesn’t feel the same as the oppressive silence that fills the car whenever you’re with scott.

“thank you. i’ll leave in the morning.”

rafe just nods.

you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at scott. “well?” “well what?” he questions, throwing his hands in the air.

“you really don’t know what today is?”

“no, and you won’t tell me!”

“forget it.” you push yourself off the bed. “i’m taking the jeep.” you call out, not bothering to tell him where you’re going.

you’re not even sure at first as you drive around before you ultimately decide to drive towards the tennis courts. you have none of your equipment, but you can at least sit in the stands and watch others play as a way to pass the time.

“what are you doing here on your birthday?”

you let out a squeal in shock, almost closing the door on yourself. “rafe! you scared the shit out of me!” “sorry.” he holds his hands up, wide smile on his face. “but seriously, you’re playing tennis on your birthday?”

“scott forgot.” you blurt out. “so… i was just kinda driving around aimlessly.” you shrug.

“well, let me take you out then birthday girl. lunch?” you realize after rafes suggestion how hungry you are and nod quickly.

rafe takes you out to your favorite restaurant, immediately telling the waitress it’s your birthday and you’ll be having dessert first, making you giggle and roll your eyes as an ice cream sundae is brought out for you to share.

“hey.” rafe says, bringing you back to the tennis courts to pick up your car now that the sun has set, having spent the entire day together. “i got you a present.”

“really?” you gasp. “rafe, you didn’t have to!”

“you’re my friend, its no problem.” he shrugs, reaching into the backseat and handing you a thin wrapped box.

“oh my god, thank you.” you reach across the center console, pulling him into a hug before ripping into the colorful paper, eyes widening when you realize what you were just gifted.

“absolutely not, its too much!” you lift up the beautiful gold bracelet, stone embellishments inlaid into the pattern.

“come on, you deserve something beautiful today. let me help you put it on.” rafe doesn’t give you any time to argue, taking the bracelet and slipping it around your wrist, fingers gently touching your skin as he clips it.

“i-i seriously can’t thank you enough.”

“all i want in return is for you to be happy.” rafe says, looping your fingers together.

you squeeze them back, holding back your tears as you mutter a goodbye, promising to call rafe soon before heading back home to scott. any time you feel upset on the ride back, you just look at your gift and think of rafe.

“you still don’t know?” you call as you enter the house.

“it’s your birthday.” scott appears from the living room, handing you a gift bag.

“are you serious?” you follow him deeper into the house as he flops back onto the couch, eyes on the television.

“i got you a gift, what more do you want?” scott groans.

you can’t help but laugh, a mean, bitter laugh as you look into the bag. “you’ve got to be kidding me.” it’s an eyeshadow palette with a $2.99 sticker on it. you don’t care about the cost of gifts, but this is clearly something he just picked up from the dollar store with zero thought.

“its makeup. you like girly shit.” scott shrugs.

“yeah, thanks.” you say sarcastically, throwing the bag onto the coffee table as you stomp away. you hear scott following you, and you almost make it into your room before his hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back towards him.

“what the fuck is your problem?” he shouts.

you want to yell back, want to scream in his face and let go of all your rage, but as his hold tightens on your wrist, you don’t dare to speak up.

“i tried to get you something you liked.” he reasons.

“i know.” by some sick standards, he did.

“i can give you something else you like.” scott guides your hand to his crotch, placing it there before you snatch your hand back.

“i’ve got a headache.”

“of course you do.” scott rolls his eyes, walking back down the stairs without another word.

“you could have at least asked me before you agreed to dinner.” scott says, changing out of his sweatpants into an old pair of jeans.

“you don’t have to come.” you shrug, adding the bracelet rafe gifted you last, your favorite accessory to every outfit, no matter how casual. “its just gonna be rafe, topper and kelce.”

“of course im coming. you think im going to let you go out to eat with three men without your boyfriend?” “do you not trust me?” you raise an eyebrow.

scott just shrugs, and leaves his answer at that, grabbing his car keys as you follow behind.

you’re the last one to arrive, a small apologetic smile on your face as the boys see scott following right behind.

the waitress comes to get everyones drink orders now that the party is complete. you order a lemonade, with scott getting himself a beer, as usual. you notice rafe gets just a cold glass of water, his eyes meeting yours from his spot across the table.

“alright, what can i get yall to eat?” the waitress pulls out a notepad and pen.

everyone orders for themselves until it gets to scott. “ill have the stake, medium well. she will have a side salad.”

you furrow your brow, you never talked about wanting a salad beforehand. “um, actually i’ll have the chicken parm.”

the waitress glances between the two of you before nodding and scurrying away.

“god, you’re getting so fat.” scott says under his breath, yet you still clearly hear.

you wait a few minutes, attempting to listen to whatever sport kelce and topper are going on and on about, when the urge to cry becomes too overwhelming and you have to excuse yourself, walking towards the bathroom before slipping outside.

you are leaned up against the exterior of the building, chest rising and falling as you attempt to control all the feelings you have building inside of you.

“why don’t you say anything to him?”

“god, rafe.” you place your hand on your chest. “you’ve got to stop sneaking up on me like that.”

“i heard what he says. i see the way he treats you, and i can’t just sit back and watch that happen.”

“what am i supposed to do?” you look up at rafe in desperation.

“break up with him.” he says simply.

“we live together. i-i have no place to go. this is a small island, and we have mutual friends. i can’t just walk away and never see him again.

“so how long are you going to put up with it? because i am seconds away from smashing his face in.” rafes fist clenches in anger, like hes visualizing punching scott this very moment.

“i… i’ll do it today. at home so i can get my stuff then i’ll go to a hotel-”

“tanneyhill. you’ll come to tanneyhill. i told you, the guest bedroom is always open for you.”

“thank you, rafe.” you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, allowing the minutes to stretch by as he holds you.

“lets get you inside, yeah?”

you nod, allowing rafe to lead you back into the restaurant. scott has a suspicious look in his eye but stays silent.

“we need to talk when we get home.” you say, scotts foot pushed down on the accelerator as he speeds home.

“what is there to talk about?” he questions.

“just some things i want to get off my chest.” you leave it at that, returning to the silence you’ve come to know well.

you can barely wait until you’re through the door before the words spurt out. “i want to break up.”

scott stands there with a blank expression, causing you to doubt whether you actually verbally said anything.

“i want to break up.” you repeat.

“no.” scott says, face flushing with anger.

“what do you mean no?” you question.

“is this because i called you fat? well, im sorry for that. i just think you could lose a little weight.” scott throws his hands up in the air like he’s the victim.

“i just can’t take this anymore. i’m not happy. you’re not happy. why are we torturing ourselves?” “you’re not leaving.” scott takes a step closer to you. “i won’t allow you to fucking leave.”

“scott, please.” you shake your head.

“you’re mine!” he yells, bursting forward to grab your shoulders, pushing you against the wall as you let out a shriek.

your eyes closed, accepting that this is the time. this is when you will be hit. you just hope it doesn’t break anything as you wait for your fate, but it never comes.

your eyes open to see rafe burst through the door, immediately accessing the situation and shoving scott away from you.

“what the fuck!” he shouts, charging towards rafe, but it's no use as rafes fist rises and meets his nose, knocking him onto the ground and out cold.

“are you okay?” rafe wraps you in his arms as your body crumbles, holding you up like your weight is nothing as you sob.

“i-thank you.”

“i’ve got you. come on, lets go get your stuff. im taking you to tanneyhill.”

you nod, in a haze as you gather up your belongings, leaving behind anything that can be left as you get just the essentials, rafe helping you carry them out, even as you step around scotts still body, lying on the floor. you check to make sure his chest is rising and falling, and then don’t look at him again.

“ive never seen you so happy.” sarah laughs as you flit around the kitchen, making the biggest breakfast you can for the entire cameron family. eggs prepared in every way, toast, waffles, pancakes, anything and everything. it’s really all for rafe, your savior.

“what is there to be upset about?” you shrug. “i’m single!”

“and youre spending lots of time with rafe again.” she eyes you up and down as your hand shakes slightly pouring a glass of orange juice for wheezie.

“shut up.” you whisper, but the smile doesn’t drop from your face, especially as rafe enters the room. you transformed in the night, the shackles of scotts emotional abuse finally falling away, allowing your true self to reappear.

“im taking you out to dinner tonight, y/n.” rafe says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“you haven’t even had breakfast yet and you’re already thinking about dinner?” you laugh, shoving a plate full of his favorites into his hands.

“to celebrate.” he shrugs. “maybe i’ll convince top to throw a party.”

“ugh, i really don’t want to be around drunk people.” you admit. you want to celebrate, but preferably without alcohol at least for a month. rafe just nods, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before taking a seat at the island next to sarah.

“after you’re done eating, you can help me look for an apartment or a condo.” you tell rafe. “maybe i could ask ward about-”

“you know you don’t need to be in a rush to leave, right?” rafe interrupts you.

“yeah, but i don’t want to take advantage.” you shrug.

“you’re not.” rafe says, that serious, intense look back in his eye.

“okay.” you nod, soft smile on your face as he takes a bite of his waffle. you turn back to the stove as the timer goes off.

“oh, and maybe we could look for some place to move in together.” you glance back at rafe as he speaks, not caring that your bacon is getting crispier and crispier. “probably time for me to leave the nest anyways… and there’s no one i’d rather live with than you.”

“gosh, y/n, you can talk about something else.” rafe laughs as you launch into another discussion about what kind of house or condo you could move into together, what features you’re looking for and renovations you want to avoid.

“i’m excited!” you whine, taking another bite of your food.

“its cute.” rafe says, making you almost choke as you take a quick sip of your water.

“i just really can’t wait to live together. it’ll be so refreshing after…” you don’t need to say his name, not so soon after.

“of course.” he nods. “do you want dessert?” rafe asks, seeing the waitress walking over.

“maybe we could split a hot fudge cake?”

“here’s another water, sir.” she winks at rafe, handing him another glass even though his is not even half empty. “and can i get you anything for dessert?” she leans down, feigning to be reaching into her apron for her notepad, but is clearly just showing off her chest.

“one hot fudge cake, two spoons.” rafe barely pays attention to her as she scribbles it down and walks away disappointed.

“well, she’s bold.” you huff, glaring at her back until she rounds a corner.

“jealous?” rafe smirks, making your eyes widen.

“i never said that!”

“mhm.” rafe takes a sip of his new water. “don’t worry, you’re cute when you’re jealous too.”

“really, thanks for this topper.” you smile, accepting his hand as you step onto his family yacht, taking you and a couple friends, of course including rafe, out for a day on the water.

“just happy to have my friend back.” he says. you feel so lucky to have such amazing people surrounding you, supporting you after your breakup and not holding the way you treated them while in your relationship against you.

you take a seat next to rafe as topper begins to pull the boat away from the dock, allowing your eyes to close and head to rest against rafes shoulder as you feel the sun warm your skin.

you lay like that until topper navigates the yacht into deeper waters for everyone to jump off and swim. you hang back for a moment, watching everyone throw in floating pads or inner tubes as you smile, feeling more relaxed than you have in months.

“ready?” rafe asks.

“oh, yeah.” you pull off your coverup and jump into the water, laughing when you come up as rafe cannonballs right next to you.

you spend the next couple of hours in the water, only getting out to dive right back in. you swim around with rafe, but manage to break away from his attention to talk to your other friends for a bit as well.

your stomach rumbles as topper calls for lunch, having packed sandwiches into the fridge in the yachts kitchen before you left. you sit on your towel on the deck, rafe bringing you back a sandwich and bag of chips as everyone begins to talk.

you watch happily, content to sit back and just be in the moment. you tense up slightly when topper brings out a cooler of drinks, relaxing only slightly when you realize it’s only enough for everyone to have one or two beers or white claws and no one will be getting plastered.

“wanna head back in the water?” rafe asks when you're finished.

“actually…” you look at one of your friends screaming as kelce scoops her up and jumps into the water with her in his arms. “wanna go lay on the sundeck?” “yeah.” rafe follows you away from the crowd until you reach the large white cushions and spread yourself over them, arching your back and stretching.

rafe sprawls out next to you, but turns himself to the side so he can look at you.

“i like you, y/n.” he says.

“i-” its so sudden, so forward, yet so rafe.

“you don’t have to say anything back. but you should know, especially if we are buying a place together.” you nod slowly, taking in his words. “i like you. and i want to kiss you.”

you just nod, a smile spreading across your cheeks as rafe moves closer, placing his hand on your cheek as he leans down, lips pressing against yours.

you’re elated for a moment, until your nose catches the smell of alcohol and you freeze, realizing there’s still the sticky sweet taste on his lips as you’re suddenly transported back to feeling what it’s like kissing scott.

you pull away suddenly.

“i’m… shit. i’m sorry.” rafe stands quickly before you can even process.

“wait!” you call out, legs feeling like jelly yet you force them to work, standing as you rush after rafe, but by the time you reach the main deck, hes taken off on one of toppers jetskis, heading towards home.

“what happened?” topper asks, seeing the tears in your eyes.

“we-we kissed and-” you let out a sob. “i got a flashback of scott because of the beer smell and i pulled away and-” another sob racks through your body. “he thought i was rejecting him but… i love him topper! i need to go and find him and tell him and-” “calm down, okay? you can’t do anything in this state.” topper places his hands on your shoulders, moving you to sit in a chair.

“everyone back on the boat!” he yells, his tone unusually authoritative as everyone scrambles to get the floaties back into the boat.

the yacht moves faster than you thought possible as topper races back, knowing how important this is to you, and to rafe. he’s not going to let his friends miss out on true love just because of a misunderstood trauma response.

thanks to the slow jetski, you reach the dock only a minute after rafe. you’re off the boat and running after him before the lines are even secured.

“wait!” your feet slap against the wood until you reach rafe, grasping his wrist and pulling him to face you.

“just-” rafe sighs. “let me go, y/n. you can stay at tanneyhill of course just… i don’t need you to reject me again.” “let me explain!” you shout, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i wanted to kiss you, i swear. i just smelled the beer on you, and i got a flashback to scott. i got freaked out, it had nothing to do with you. im just… still recovering.”

“shit.” rafe groans, head tipping back at he stares at the sky for a moment, collecting his anger. “i’m so fucking stupid. of course you need more time, you just left him a couple days ago.” “no im… i like you too rafe. i know i need to heal, but i want to do that with you. i love you.”

rafes face turns briefly to one of confusion before a smile takes over. “im going inside to go use toppers mouthwash real quick then im coming back to kiss you. don’t move.”

sfw taglist: @bejeweledreverie @winterrrnight @ladyinbl00d

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brenwritesss · 2 days

Text

Tru Fru part 2

Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: Paige invites you over to her dorm, allowing the two of you to get to know each other.

(If you want an alternate smut version, let me know! Or if you want a part 3)

(Also sorry for the real late upload, I ended up rotting in bed all day yesterday and never finished the ending to this part)

You stood in front of her door for five minutes, contemplating whether or not you should even be here right now. You had just met this girl twenty minutes ago and she didn’t even second guess having you over at her place. Should that have been a red flag?

You don’t even know what the two of you would be doing once you were inside. What was there to talk about? Considering you didn’t even know who she was, you doubt there would be much in common. You put your keys into your pocket, allowing you to knock on her door after almost running back down the hall and back into your car.

You heard someone stumble on the other side of the door, a few voices rising to the surface. You were unaware that she had roommates. You stood there quietly, taking in your last few seconds before the door opened. A girl who wasn’t Paige and was taller than you, looked at you confused. “Hi?”

“Hi, uh Paige invited me over. Is this the right dorm?” You looked back at your phone making sure the room number she gave you matched the room you were at right now. And there were no mistakes.

Her confusion turned into smiles when she said, “Oh, you’re the Tru Fru stealer.”

“Excuse me?”

She broke out into laughter. “Yeah, you kinda dirty for that, not gonna lie.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t steal anything, it’s her fault for not getting there sooner and taking it.”

“And you right,” she moved away from the entrance, allowing you to walk inside. “I’m KK, by the way.”

You smiled at her, turning towards her. “Y/n. I’m assuming you’re on the basketball team too?”

“And a Tru Fru lover. So I better not be seeing you in any Target taking the last bag,” she said in a tone that let you know she was joking.

“So who’s better? You or Paige?”

“Girl, me for real. Trust.” There was something about KK that instantly brightened your mood. You didn’t know how to explain it.

“Yo KK, down to join me in a new round?” Another girl walked out of a room towards your left. She was wearing a hoodie just like KK, her braids coming down to cover the top of the letters. She held a video game controller as she stopped when she saw you in the middle of their living room.

You gave her a small wave, smiling shyly. “I’m Y/n.”

“You’re Y/n? I’m Ice. Girl you are gorgeous,” she said, complimenting you.

A blush tinted your cheeks and you let out a small laugh, “thank you, that’s so nice. You are so pretty.”

She flipped her hair back with her hand. “Thanks girl.”

“Ay, what y’all doin out here,” Paige’s voice echoed through a small hallway, stopping short when she sees you standing next to KK. Her arms going behind her back, she smiled at you, “I didn’t know if you would actually stop by.”

You shrugged. “It’s not like I had anything better to do,” you joked. “And this bag is too big to keep to myself.” You held up the Tru Fru bag that you two fought over.

Both KK and Ice snickered, obviously knowing what had happened at Target. “You still want to pay up?” You threw her the bag, Paige catching it with ease.

She looked you up and down and that familiar feeling you had felt back in Target resurfaced. Paige was still in that Tru Fru sweatshirt and UConn sweatpants that you had met her in. That hoodie is about to be mine, you thought to yourself.

“Nah, I like having your number more,” she said, making the butterflies in your stomach multiply.

Ice made a sound, making everyone turn towards her. “Okay Paige coming in with the rizz.”

“Shut the hell up,” Paige scolded, lightly smacking her arm with her free hand.

KK pulled out her phone, “Yo, we finna call Nika and Azzi and show them your mad flirting skills.”

Paige rolled her eyes while you laughed, having no clue who Azzi and Nika were but you assumed they were more of Paige’s teammates. Paige walks towards you, eyes on KK. “You’re not gonna call them and we are gonna go chill in my room.”

Paige grabbed your hand and the action surprised you. Ice gave you and Paige a look that screamed ‘what the fuck’ while KK just continued laughing, typing in her phone.

Paige led you into her room, which was bare compared to yours. Her bed was fit into the corner, a bright purple comforter atop that you just wanted to snuggle into. Her dresser was directly across, a TV and a playstation decorating the top of the dresser. Next to her bed was a nightstand holding a pile of books.

You stood in the middle of the room, not really knowing what to do. “Nice room.”

“Thanks,” she said, more of a whisper. After closing the door behind her, she leaned against it. “Sorry about my teammates, they’re joking.”

“Oh I don’t mind,” you assured her, “my roommate is the same way, so I get it.”

She smiled at you and pointed toward her bed. “You’re chill to sit down.”

“Thanks,” you smiled back and took a seat on her bed. You couldn’t lie, this was incredibly awkward as you both didn’t know what to say.

Paige sat down next to you, looking at you while opening the Tru Fru bag. “So, what’s your major?”

“Biology. What about you?”

“Oh shit,” she said. “Biology’s cool. I’m majoring in human development, family studies. But I plan to go pro in the league after I graduate.”

You admired her determination in her answer. Even after only knowing her for an extremely short amount of time, you could tell she was very passionate about basketball. Just like how you were with biology. How you both were willing to do anything to achieve your goals in your careers.

“How long have you been playing?”

Paige adjusted her seating, turning more towards you. And closer to you. “Since I was a kid. You have no idea how many photos my mom has of me in basketball jerseys when I was like seven years old.”

“I don’t think I could ever play a sport like basketball. But hockey,” you continued, “that’s where it’s at.”

Paige raised her eyebrows, your comment earning a chuckle from her. “Really? Hockey?”

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s a hot sport to play.”

“So is basketball not hot?” she asked, popping a piece of Tru Fru into her mouth.

You reached into the bag, grabbing a handful and moving your legs up onto her bed so that your whole body was now on her bed. “It’s hit or miss.”

“Watch me play then that’ll change your mind,” she winked, earning a laugh from you.

“You inviting me to your game?”

“Obviously.”

You both stayed there for a while, eating the fruit. You could feel the tension between you two so you took to looking around her room while you could feel her eyes on you, examining every part of you. “So do you play hockey?” Paige asked you.

You shook your head. “I wish.”

“You should,” she said as she leaned towards you. Only a few centimeters toward your ear she whispered, “since it’s a hot sport, you’ll fit right in.”

“Well now I have to play,” you whispered back.

Still close to your face, her eyes lingered on your lips then back up to your eyes. “So what do you think?”

“Of?”

“Tru Fru.” She holds the bag in between your faces. You grab it from her, eating some. “It’s actually better than I thought it would be. I can see why you’re so obsessed with it.”

“I’m not obsessed.”

“Explain the merch then,” you said, pointing to her sweatshirt.

“Playing college basketball has its perks,” she whispered once more and gently grabbed your hand. You had a Tru Fru piece in between your fingers that you were about to eat. Paige guided your hand toward her mouth, her lips tickling your fingers as she took the piece from your hand. “Like getting a pretty girl’s number.”

Every part of you melted when she did that with your hand. “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to make me fold.” That was a lie, you were folding right about now.

“Deal.”

There were a few voices outside Paige’s door but the two of you drowned out the sound with the growing tension between the two of you. You smiled at her, biting your lip in the process. Paige’s hand was still wrapped around yours when KK barged into the room.

“Hey Paige, the live wants to say-oh shit,” KK yelled, turning the phone away.

“KK, what the fuck,” Paige shouts, moving away from you in an instant. Ice came in, taking the phone from KK and going into another room.

KK ran up to the two of you. “Y’all I’m so sorry, I thought y’all were chillin’ playing video games or something, not making out.”

You set down the Tru Fru bag. “We weren’t making out. We were talking about hockey.”

Paige looked at you then back at KK. “Why would you go live right now? You do realize they just got a full view of her right?”

“What?” you asked, confused as to what they were talking about.

“Bro, I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t do it on purpose.” KK looked scared almost. Not at Paige, but of what happened. Or what was going to happen.

You stood up, backing away from Paige and KK. “Can you guys tell me what’s going on?”

Paige itched the back of her neck, scrunching up her nose. “KK was live on instagram and she walked in with the camera pointed at us.”

You shrugged. “That’s not bad. Only a few people were on the live right?”

KK gave you an anxious look. “No yeah, it was only a few,” she trailed off, “thousand.”

You swear your eyes could have popped out from your skull with how wide they grew. “I’m sorry, what?”

KK continued apologizing, “I’m so sorry Y/n, but a few thousand people just saw what looked like you and Paige kissing on live.”

"I'm assuming that's really bad then?" you asked.

Paige walked over to you, looking you in the eyes when she says, "I'll make this up to you with all the Tru Fru you want because this is about to be trending on social media for a bit."

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wcbb

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dontexpectmuch · 2 days

Note

hii, could u maybe write something about joining jude in the celebrations today and sometimes you get a little overwhelmed with big crowds so he’s protective of you and looks after you? 🥹

loud cheers and applause all around the place invaded your ears, the smell of smoke and beer, sweat and other liquids filled your nose as your eyes danced around the crowd in front of you. you coukd feel the sweat on your back roll down at times with how hot it was around you.

the sight if the crowd and fans slowly got smaller as the parade train rolled down the street. you and some other partners of the players were in the back, looking at the happy team with happiness bubbling inside of you as well.

the parade for the team just ended, everyone is on a high that they do not plan to come down of anytime soon, laughter and excitement are still present as if the day had just started. you knew that it would be like that, jude had told you this morning. and he also told you that he would be next to you if you ever felt overwhelmed, though you could not bring it over your heart to disturb this beautiful moment for him. you’d just suck it up for the time being and try to be as happy as possible for you boyfriend.

now, you were in the building where the next party would be held, a more intimate one with families and other staff members from the team. your eyes wander around the huge room, hoping to catch a glimpse of jude. while you are at it, you start to walk towards the buffet, wanting to grab something to drink because of the hot temperatures inside.

“¡chica! where have you been!” an excited voice behind you calls for you, making you turn around.

you are met with the sight of an excited eduardo, his smile so contagious that you can’t help but copy it. you feel relief wash over you as you see a familiar face, automatically moving closer to him.

“i was here and there, y’know.” shrugging, you smile at him while the two of you look around the room, the noise around you rising by the minute. “congratulations, by the way! all of you played amazing and truly deserve this!”

he smiles at you, loving the compliment coming from your mouth, “what can i say-“

“not everyone is blessed with such an amazing teammate like me, eh?”

you feel judes arm along your shoulders and how he pulls you closer against his chest, his voice is clear and loud, perhaps due to all the cheering that is still going around.

eduardo laughs, shaking his head and patting judes shoulder before he moves away, a new drink in his hand as he dances with another person.

“hi.” you turn around to face your boyfriend, his smile never leaving his face and eyes bright.

this sight alone makes your heart roar, suddenly everything else around you disappears in a buzz and you solely focus on him.

jude takes a sip from your water before he puts his arm back around your shoulder, “where have you been?”

“i was with the others, behind the team and all.” you tell him, head leaning back against his shoulder.

even though it was really hot inside and you would like to keep cool, no one could ever make you leave judes touch voluntarily, so you enjoy it while you can.

“how are you? everything okay?” you couldn’t see his face, as the two of you were looking ahead, though you knew that he was concerned about your well-being, making your heart flutter.

you could always feel his eyes on you, no matter where he was or where you were at, he always made sure to keep an eye on you to see if you were comfortable, which you really were. you tried to stay as calm as possible, even if you don’t enjoy large crowds, just to help jude have a good time during the celebrations.

“i’m fine, amor, really.” you take his hand into yours and lift it up to your mouth, gentle kisses feathering against his knuckles to convince him.

his eyes wander around the room, his teammates’ laughter and their cheers painting a bright smile on his face. with winning the league, creating a new environment for himself to gain the best experience ever and having you by his side to share all of this with, jude could not want to be in a better position than he is now.

now thinking of you, he genuinely hopes that you also had a nice time with him and the others, even though he wasn’t able to dedicate most of his time to you. but you seem content, relaxed smile on your lips as you also look around the room, comfortable sigh leaving you.

you push yourself off his shoulder to look at his eyes while your hand stays in his, “you should go and celebrate with them some more, show them how horribly you can dance.”

“ha, ha, ha.” jude rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop himself from smirking at your words, “as if you can dance any better.”

“in fact, i can.”

you hear him scoff, his hand slightly squeezing yours before his eyes turn serious, “babe, ‘m bein’ for real. as soon as you feel uncomfortable, you tell me and i’ll call mum. she’ll pick us up.”

this time you are the once to roll your eyes, even though you love it when he gets protective, you also want him to enjoy his time.

“lo sé, bebé. i will tell you, i promise.”

he opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted when some of his friends call him to come and take a group picture together.

“i-“

“just go, i promise i will tell you when i need to go home, okay?” your reassurance makes him visibly relax, nodding his head at your words.

with one last kiss on your cheek he moves away quickly, the cheers around you once again rising as he joins the group.

yeah, he was your cute boyfriend that could not dance to safe his life, but he will also always be the one that will look after you no matter what, and you will be forever grateful to have him in your life.

———————————————————————

guess who’s back

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #football x reader #football one shot #x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x you #football #jude bellingham fluff

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

Text

the girl next door 24

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

The afternoon passes peacefully by the soft babble of the brook. Your forgotten friend stays with his camera but doesn’t bother you much. You remember him vaguely. Some years of your childhood seem to blend together but you recall the boy and his lawn mower. Your grandmother would give him a five dollar bill as your mom asked why you hadn’t offered to do it first.

You’re more surprised that he remembers you. You’ve always been a side note. Nothing or no one special. More than ten years later and he seems almost happy to see you. Well, like he says, a familiar face can be a comfort when everything else is new.

You still your pencil and look up at the sky then over your shoulder. Peter grabs onto the bridge and swings himself up from below. His camera hangs from a strap around his neck as he tidies his hair. He smiles as he comes across the bridge, his eyes flicking towards your sketchbook.

You hesitate and turn the page towards him, showing him as your heart pulse. You don’t often share your work and the river scene is much more than your usual subject. He considers it, leaning in as he nods.

“Wow, very nice,” he praises. “You’re very good at that. Not me,” he chuckles and scratches his neck, “the camera does all the work.”

You close up the book with the pencil inside. You rock and look behind you once more.

“Guess you should get going, huh?” He asks.

You shrug.

“Can I walk with you? I wouldn’t mind getting the lay of the land,” he offers. “Is it far?”

You shake your head and press the book to your chest. You turn without a word and lead him across the bridge onto the paved path. You come up onto the sidewalk, the sun beating down hotly on your faded denim and heavy cotton.

“I’m sorry to hear about your grandma,” he says, “she was a nice woman.”

You nod and give a bittersweet smile. She could be, when she wanted to be. Other kids deserved kindness, but you, you were useless.

“Can I show you something?” He asks as he grabs his camera and clicks the buttons, “here, look.”

He turns the little screen to you and shades it with his hand. You look at you keep your feet moving. A monarch butterfly floats above a broken dandelion, just beyond the river’s edge. The framing brings the eye right to its colourful wings.

“Pretty,” you say.

“Huh, yeah,” he lets the camera hang again. “Just a bit of fun. A hobby between classes.”

You chew your lip and don’t comment on the last part.

“Engineering,” he supplies, “heavy duty. You go to school?”

You don’t react as you squeeze the edges of your sketchbook. You look down, your soles scuffing on the pavement. You frown and shake your head.

“Ah, well, you know, it’s not for everyone. You sell your art?”

You pop your head up and look at him. Huh?

“Yeah, I’m sure you could sell that if you made it digital or something,” he points to your book.

Maybe but you don’t have a computer or a tablet or anything like that. You won’t let him know all that. You just shrug and keep walking.

“Anyway,” he laughs off the awkward silence.

You look ahead as you come in sight of the house. You see Steve’s car in his driveway and your insides mulch. They’re home. You stop at the corner and face Peter.

“I’ll walk from here,” you insist.

“Oh, uh, I don’t mind.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “Thanks.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he grins.

“Maybe.”

You tramp off and glance behind you, only to make sure he doesn’t follow. He watches but stays on the corner. You turn ahead as you near the front gate of your mother’s house. Your name frightens you as it comes from the other side of the fence.

“Where were you?” Steve charges down his front steps, so quick and determined that you wince and stumble onto the grass as you look at him. “We were looking for you.”

“Oh,” you bat your eyes.

“Oh?” He echoes, “sweetie, we were worried.”

“I... went for a walk.”

He looks you up and down, the lines in his forehead lessening as he heaves a breath. He still wears his nice shirt and trousers, but his tie is gone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His gray hair is neat but for a shank that threatens to fall down his forehead.

“Drawing?” He asks. You nod. “You should leave a note, next time.”

“Sorry,” you bite your lip and notice how his eyes catch on that gesture.

“Your mom’s a bit out of it. It’s been a really long day for her and the last thing she needed was to worry about you,” he shakes his head and crosses his arms. You slump and look at your feet. Your mom worried about you? “I just got her to lay down, I told her I’d find you.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat louder, “okay?”

“Sweetie, I’m just looking out for you. We’re a family now, aren’t we?”

Your jaw clenches and you stare at him blankly. He keeps saying that but you don’t know. You and your mom were barely that. She just tolerates you.

“Sorry if I seem impatient,” he says, “we need to talk about some things.”

“Talk?” You swallow dryly.

You think you know what he wants to say but you thought he might wait until tomorrow. Your skin buzzes. Your future has always been dull and predictable; just another day with your mom, at home. Now, you might lose both.

“Come on, it’s still sunny out, we’ll sit out back and I’ll make some lemonade.”

You try to hide your uncertainty but you can’t feel it straining in your cheek. You put your head down and go around to his side of the picket fence. He waits for you to go ahead of him and leads you around the side of the house. He takes you onto the deck and you sit at the table.

“Don’t wanna wake your mom,” he says, “I’ll be right back.”

You stare out at the yard. It’s still very unreal to you. They’re married but everything still looks the same. The distant shouts of child drift in the air and the steady rustle of leaves rises from bushes and trees alike. The sunlight grows unbearable as you sit in its blaze.

The sliding door shuts and Steve plunks down two glasses of lemonade before he sits. He shifts and adjusts, pulling the chair around closer to you and puts his elbow on the table. He watches you as you avoid looking back at him.

“Thirsty? You must be hot, why don’t you come in the shade?” He suggests.

You don’t say a word. You sit there behind a wall, waiting for it to shatter. You grip your book in your lap and stare at the bright green grass.

“Ahem, so, sweetie,” he clears his throat, “I know this has all been so sudden but... me and your mom talked this out in every direction. After what happened, the hospital, well, she needs help. Professional help. She needs a nurse. Someone to come look after her a few hours a day. And... the invoice wasn’t easy to look at either...”

He lets his words hang. You and your mom aren’t well off. You never have been. You live in that suburb by the grace of your grandmother’s bequeathal. An emergency room visit isn’t cheap and a nurse is completely beyond your stipend. You frown.

“But...” you blink. “I take care of mom. I...” you feel bad to mention the money but it’s your only income, even if most of it goes back to her.

“I know, honey, we talked about that too,” he leans forward and caresses your arm, just above your elbow, “and it’s okay. I told you, I’m going to take care of you both. I’m here to support you. Maybe... maybe you could find something else to earn some money. I know a few gallery owners...”

You keep your head down as goosebumps rise under his touch. It crawls up under your loose sleeve. You shrink down further.

“Maybe... I’m not that good.”

“Who told you that?” He continues to tickle you, more firmly as he shifts closer. “I know it’ll be strange at first, sweetie, but we all just need to get used to each other.”

You stretch your hands across your sketchbook and go rigid.

“It’s okay if it’s a lot to process. Take your time,” his hand creeps along your shoulder and down the back, edging along your bra. What is he doing?

You croak, “okay.”

“You know, sweetie,” he retracts his hand from your sleeve and tugs it straight. You wince as he leans forward and nudges your chin up, “today was intense but I don’t want you to be unhappy.”

You just stare at him. What does he want you to say? You can barely think straight.

“And screw what that waiter said, that dress looked gorgeous on you,” he smiles and drags his fingertips down your neck, his eyes following them, “it fits you perfectly.”

You clasp your sketchbook tight as heat roils around you. It must be the humidity or the sunlight boiling you from the inside. His hand dances along your tee shirt and he sits back, balling his hand up as he rests it on his thigh.

“Here, let me show you,” he lifts one hip and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his phone, “look.”

He flicks through his phone and brings up a photo. He turns the screen towards you and you reluctantly glance at it. You lean in as you can hardly make it out at first. It’s zoomed in so it’s just you and Steve. You cringe at how your chest seems about to burst from the dress. Your gaze trails down to his fingers curled into your side and sensation ripples up your spine at the memory.

“You’re a pretty young woman,” he says, “having a nurse, well, that means you’ll get to enjoy this very exciting time in your life.”

You sit back. You can’t look at the picture again. It’s awful. You hate it.

There’s a tap on the door and you flinch. Steve sits back stiffly and cranes to see over his shoulder. He blacks the phone screen and stands slowly, his hand grazing over his belt and giving a subtle tug. The fabric along the front tents as if creased. You don’t know, you hardly look at the odd bulging. You don’t even know how you noticed.

He spins and waves at your mom as she leans weakly against the inside of the sliding doors.

“Must be her new meds,” he says, “I’ll be back, sweetie.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers

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teapartyprincess4two · 2 days

Text

Call Out My Name- J. Webber

pairing: OFcreator!reader x CoStar!Jake

classification: angst, smut

inspiration: request1, request2, Call Out My Name by The Weeknd

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, mention of online sex work, use of y/n, jealousy, slight cursing, Daddy kink, arguing, possessive!Jake, FWB (kinda?), slapping, cream pie, camera usage, somewhat pervy/ gross side character, smoking & alcohol

summary: When you film a video with somebody else, Jake’s jealousy takes over.

—

Your whole life you’ve been known to tell a good lie. You’ve never been necessarily sneaky, you’ve just always been a good actress; a good pretender.

That’s why it’s easy to pretend that Kevin, the man on top of you, is making you see stars. He’s jabbing his penis inside of you like a double edged sword, managing to make every angle less pleasurable than the last.

You put on the performance of a lifetime, but only because the cameras are rolling. A red, blinking light stares back at you to taunt you; to let you know that it’s not over until he’s done.

So, you arch your back off the bed, kiss all over his body, wrap your legs around his waist, chanting words you don’t mean. Words along the lines of, “It feels so good,” “Just like that,” and “Faster! Harder!”

The whole time, as Kevin pounds into you at an ungodly, un-pleasurable pace, all you can think about is Jake. Jake always managed to make you feel good even when the cameras were off. Yet you somehow always find yourself under subpar men.

A loud grunt, and a sweaty forehead against your shoulder pulls you out of your trance.

“Holy fuck that was good!” Kevin groans, his voice choppy as he attempts to catch his breath. His entire body collapses on top of yours, suffocating you under his weight.

This is your grand finale, the big show!

You let out a high pitched moan, claw at his back, and shake beneath him (as much as his weight will allow you) as you praise his hard work.

“So good! Fuck! I’m coming!”

You sit in the moment for a while, uncomfortably adjusting yourself under Kevin as the camera continues recording the awkward silence.

Finally, when you decide this entire interaction needs to end, your palms press flat against his shoulders to push him off of you. His body rolls onto the opposite side of the bed, chest still rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his high.

You throw on a robe and walk over to the camera, turning it off and looking expectantly at Kevin. He smirks at you, misreading your expression completely.

“Already ready for round two?” He chuckles. “Couldn’t get enough of the stallion, huh?”

He stands up and begins walking over to you while stroking himself, ready to engulf your frame in his arms.

You scoff, picking his clothes up from the floor and shoving it into his chest. “Let’s see how many views this gets. Then I’ll think about it.”

Kevin wears a dumbfounded expression as you kick him out of your house. You’re definitely NEVER collabing with him again, no matter the views.

—

Loud music bumps through the club speakers. A cold drink sits in Jake’s hand, the same drink he’s been nursing all night.

All week he’d been looking forward to a night out with his friends, but now that he’s actually here, he’s not sure he’s enjoying it as much as he thought he would. Maybe it’s just because you haven’t arrived yet.

Kevin stands across from him, retelling stories that everyone is only half-listening to. For as long as Jake has known him, he’s hated Kevin. Everything from the way that he walks, talks, dresses, and even the way that he name drops all of his collabs.*1

As an online sex worker, Jake knows that collaborations between creators are no strings attached and meaningless (for the most part at least). But as Kevin says your name, and describes in detail how good the sex was, Jake can’t help but feel jealous.

“I had her in every position you can think of,” Kevin boasts, holding his arms out as he thrusts the air. “I don’t think I’ve ever made someone cum that fast either,” he continues, pretending to slap ass as he continues his gross display.

Jake scoffs, unintentionally gaining Kevin’s attention.

“Jake! You’ve filmed with her before, right?” Kevin asks.

Jake’s done more than film with you, but he’s not the type to show off. “Yeah, we’ve collabed here and there.”

Kevin jabs Jake’s side, “So you know how tight that pussy is then.” Jake’s heard enough, he shoves Kevin away from him and downs the drink that was still in his hand.

He sucks in through his teeth, slamming the glass onto a nearby table before pushing his way out of the club. “Fuck’s his problem?” Kevin says in confusion, watching as Jake disappears outside.

Jake doesn’t know why he’s so upset, or even why he’s jealous in the first place. He knows you’ve had sex with people other than him, it’s literally your job, but for some reason it gets under his skin ever time.

The thought of you under another man —even if it is just for work— and enjoying it makes him see red. Sometimes he wishes your relationship wasn’t so transactional, that he could have you all to himself even when the camera wasn’t rolling. But he’s forced to accept the fact that what you two share is purely business.

Jake now stands outside of the club, back against a rough brick wall as he tries hard to think of anything other than you. He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, craving the burn that smoking brings him to distract his mind. He’s quick to light the stick and take a long drag from it, blowing in the general direction of an approaching figure.

The street is dimly lit, causing him to squint his eyes until you finally come into view. It’s almost like his jealousy summoned you.

Immediately you notice Jake, excitedly skipping over to him as quickly as your tight leather dress will allow you. “Got one for me?” you ask, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at his cigarette.

You look so happy to see him, but his face doesn’t mirror your expression. He’s quiet, trying to keep to himself as much as possible before his mind inevitably reminds him of Kevin’s words.

He pulls another cigarette out, watching as you place it between your lips and wait for him to light it for you.

“How come you’re not inside?” you ask through puffs of smoke. Jake can’t stop looking at your lips, reminiscing on all the times you wrapped them around his cock while a camera was pointed at your face.

“It was getting loud in there,” he replies simply, before mindlessly continuing, “Plus I couldn’t listen to Kevin keep talking about how good it felt to fuck you.”

You grimace at the mention of his name. “Kevin’s here?”

Jake’s jaw clenches, fingers flicking the cigarette onto the floor. “Don’t sound too excited,” he scoffs with an eye roll.

What the fuck? You choke on the smoke, coughing loudly as you reply, “I’m not?”

“Whatever, let’s just go inside. Everyone’s been waiting for you.” Jake’s pushes off the brick wall, ready to walk past you and into the club, but you stop him by standing directly in his path.

“Move, Y/n,” he grits, stretching his neck out to avoid eye contact.

“No. Why are you being so pissy?”

“I’m not. Now move.” Jake tries walking around you, but you just scoot over and block him again.

“Jake,” you say sternly, trying to pull his attention to you, he’s upset and stubborn. “Look at me.”

Finally, he meets your expectant gaze, and the look in his eyes is one you’ve only ever seen during sex. “C’mon, wouldn’t wanna keep Kevin waiting,” he grumbles, a clear displeasure evident in his tone.

Finally, it clicked.

“Are you jealous?” You tease, chuckling slightly. His expression shifts from annoyance to embarrassment, mostly because he never thought you’d catch on or that he made it so obvious.

“You’re jealous!” You exclaim, trying hard to hold back your laughter. Once again, he scoffs, but he’s terrible at hiding his embarrassment.

“Aw Jake, don’t be jealous,” you tease.

“Video did get a lot of views though.” It’s true, the video brought a lot of traction to your account, but so did every single one of your other videos.

An idea pops into his mind at the revelation, but you don’t give him time to respond before you’re turning on your heel and excitedly walking into the club.

—

All night you’ve been working towards making Jake more jealous than he already was. All you had to do was stand close to Kevin, chat him up a bit, and pretend to be interested in whatever he quipped back. Kevin was definitely getting the wrong idea, but if it got you closer to Jake, it didn’t matter.

Jake’s eyes have been glued to you from the moment you entered the club, trained on your every move. His blood is boiling, his jaw is clenched, and his fists are bawled.

He needs to come up with an excuse to get you alone as quickly as possible, just so you two can make a video of your own. Honestly, he’ll be content for some alone time with you even if the camera isn’t involved.

Jake watches in jealousy as your hands grip Kevin’s bicep, supporting yourself as you throw your head back in laughter. Surely Kevin isn’t that funny.

Kevin’s arm manages to escape your grip and slither around your waist, his hand resting on your ass before squeezing it. You know Jake’s watching, so you let Kevin put on a show.

When Kevin slaps your ass, loudly and proudly, Jake decides he’s seen enough. So, he walks over to you without a real plan, but he’s being fueled by rage and jealousy.

Jake leans down in front of you, whispering into your ear, “Meet me in the parking lot.”

You struggle to hear him over the music and Kevin’s hold on you makes it hard to scoot in closer to him.

“What?” You whisper shout.

“Meet me in the parking lot,” Jake repeats, gritting his teeth and sending an unreadable look towards Kevin.

He’s quick to dismiss himself from everyone else, bidding his goodbyes as he walks out into the parking lot. As you watch his brooding figure disappear, your thighs subconsciously clench together. For some reason, the miserable, possessive aura that radiated from him was causing a heat to grow within you.

After some minutes, you make up an excuse as to why you need to leave. Something along the lines of, “I have an early day tomorrow.” Luckily, no one questions your excuse, or the way you giddily skip out of the club, not even Kevin.

When you exit the building and round the corner into the parking lot, you spot Jake leaning against the hood of his car. A cigarette sits between his lips, the lit end blinking with each inhale.

“No Kevin?” He says with a sly grin.

You cock an eyebrow at him. “I can go get him if you want?” You turn on your heels, pretending like you’re going to walk back into the club.

“I was kidding,” he grumbles, pulling your body into his roughly. You slam against him, your crotch hitting his already erect member.

Jake’s arms wrap around your waist, both hands landing on your ass. He squeezes firmly, massaging your skin repeatedly.

“Why’d you call me out here, Jake?” You ask, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

“You know why,” he hums, applying pressure to your back until you’re basically grinding.

You decide to tease him, knowing that he’s so unbelievably horny that it’ll work him up even further. “I don’t know why, Jake. Care to explain?”

He’s still grinding himself into you, his breath becoming heavy with every passing second. Jake’s mind is going crazy with the thought of you on the back of his car, camera in your face, praising every inch of his body.

Jake’s head falls onto your shoulder, mouth latching onto the skin of your neck in a soft, sloppy attack of kisses. “Just thought we could… you know, make a video of our own,” he murmurs against your skin.

You want to give in, to take him right there in the middle of the parking lot, but you know that the further you push him, the greater the reward.

“We’ve made enough videos. They don’t bring in as many views as my other ones…” you say, stifling a moan. It’s a lie, but he doesn’t have to know that. Your videos with Jake are easily the most popular on your account.

“… As my videos with Kevin.”

Jake’s lips come to a halt, hands becoming stiff on your ass.

“Yeah?” Jake says.

“Yeah.” You reply, a stubborn underlying tone in your voice.

He unlocks his car, opening the back seat. “Get in.”

“What?” You laugh, slight confusion written on your face.

“You heard me,” he growls.

As you begin crawling into the backseat, his hand lands a firm slap on your ass.

“We’re gonna see how many views we can get you.”

—

Even though this is what you’ve wanted all night, now that you’re in the backseat of Jake’s car, you feel nervous. You’ve filmed videos like this before, yet you feel like a virgin anxiously awaiting to be touched.

Because you’re in a car, you have none of your camera equipment, so you’re wondering what Jake will record this on.

“C’mere,” Jake murmurs, catching sight of the way you anxiously play with the hem of your dress. “What happened to all that confidence?” He teases as you make your way onto his lap, finding a comfortable position over his crotch.

Instinctively, you grind onto him, but his hands are quick to stop you. “Uh uh. I’m in control, baby.”

“You were acting like a stupid brat. You think brats deserve to be rewarded?” He asks, pulling his phone out of his one pocket. You don’t answer, but you don’t have to because he does it for you, “They don’t. They get punished.”

The phone’s flash shines in your face, a clear indicator that he’s started recording. Suddenly, you become shy, because even if this is what you do for a living, it always feels more vulnerable and real with Jake.

A shocked gasp escapes your lips as he swiftly maneuvers you so that you’re lying across his lap. Your tight dress has managed to ride past your hips at this point, providing Jake the perfect view of your ass which he gladly captures on camera.

“You know what happens to brats, Y/n?” Jake asks, his unoccupied hand massaging your thighs and ass.

Your voice is squeaky as you try not to get lost in the feeling of his hands all over you, “Mmm— No.”

Suddenly, he delivers a quick slap to your bum. You weren’t expecting it, and you’re so lost in the moment that all you can manage to do is squeal.

“You like that?” He taunts, focusing the camera on the red handprint that’s forming on your skin. You bite your lip and nod your head, batting your eyelashes at him. Not only did you know that this would rile him up, but you actually did like that.

“Fucking brat,” he grits. Jake’s hand lands on your ass again, only slightly harder than before. The sting courses through your body, eliciting the smallest moan from you.

He delivers another slap. “I won’t stop until I know you’ve learned your lesson.” Slap.

You cover your mouth, attempting to muffle your moans and whimpers. But it’s no use, you’re enjoying this much more than you’d care to admit.

If it weren’t for the wetness that formed in your panties, you might’ve allowed this to continue all night. But, as he continues delivering slap after slap, all you can think about is the erection that is poking at your stomach.

So when he proposes the question, “Have you learned your lesson?”

You’re quick to reply with, “Yes. Yes, Daddy.”

The pet name flips a switch in Jake. It’s the first time anyone has ever referred to him as that, and he’s instantly addicted.

“Say it again.”

You crawl back into his lap, sitting right above his crotch. Your fingers weave through his hair and tug the strands.

Slowly, you lean close enough for your lips to graze his. “I learned my lesson,” you whisper, “Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he whimpers. Suddenly he doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to remain in control. There’s something about the way the word sounds coming from your sultry voice. It has him weak.

You grind onto his cock as you connect your lips with his. The kiss is sloppy, needy, and tastes of desire. Jake’s completely forgotten about the phone, tossing it to the side and allowing his hands to roam your body.

His strong, rough hands travel from your ass to your boobs, pulling the dress down until your breasts are free. He hungrily latches onto your nipples, sucking and nipping at the sensitive buds until your head is thrown back in pleasure.

Your body continues gyrating against his, the material of his jeans providing you with the slightest relief. It still wasn’t enough, though, you needed to feel him, all of him.

You pull his face back up to yours, capturing his lips in another heated makeout session. Moans and groans are swallowed by the kiss as his tongue slips into your mouth. You’re breathless, but the kiss is so much better than oxygen.

One of your hands begins palming him through his jeans, fumbling with the button and zipper in an attempt to free his cock.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg against his lips.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you so good,” he grunts, watching as you pull his pants down. Jake’s cock springs free, precum already leaking from the red, swollen tip.

As you pump him slowly, spreading his natural lubrication along his shaft, he uses one of his fingers to pull your panties to the side. The fabric pushes against your clit and the pressure is soon replaced with his fingers as he circles the bundle of nerves rhythmically.

You’re quick to position yourself over his cock, sitting on the tip momentarily before sinking down on it completely.

“Jake— fuck!” You moan, throwing your head onto his shoulder. Jake’s size always manages to overwhelm you.

You’re about to start bouncing on his dick, but he stops you with strong hands on your waist.

“That’s not my name.”

Rutting your hips in response earns you yet another slap to the ass.

“Don’t be a brat. Say my name,” he growls.

You clench around his girth, desperate for some sort of relief as he continues to hold you in place.

“Say.” Slap. “My.” Slap. “Name.” Slap.

Your asscheek is red and stinging, the need growing deep within your core. “Jake?” You tease, feigned innocence laced in your voice.

In an attempt to reposition himself, he bucks his hips upwards into you. You whimper at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix.

“Wanna act stupid?” He asks, mostly to himself. He grabs the long forgotten phone, its flash once again illuminating your exposed body. “I’ll fuck you stupid then.”

In one swoop, Jake lays you on your back in the backseat. Your tits jiggle against the fabric of your dress that’s pooled beneath them, an excited giggle being the only thing keeping you from moaning.

“You won’t think shit’s funny when I’m done with you.”

His large hand slithers up your body, wrapping around your neck as he begins pounding into you relentlessly. Small hands wrap around his wrist as you try adjusting to the feeling.

He’s fucking you so fast, so good. Muffled and strained moans ring through the car, harmonizing with the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

Jake’s still pointing the camera in your face, capturing your fucked out expression perfectly. He expertly angles the camera down to your wet cunt, biting his lip at the sight he’s met with. His length plunges in and out of you repeatedly, squelching as it’s coated in your slick.

“Jake— I—,” you stutter through your words, the euphoric feeling of his dick suffocated between your walls clouding your mind with lust.

He pulls out of you completely, immediately missing the feeling of your pussy wrapped around him, but he needs to teach you a lesson.

Your hips lift from the leathery cushion beneath them, chasing his cock in a hungry haze. You whimper and claw at the wrist that’s wrapped around your throat, begging desperately for him to stuff you again.

“Say my name,” he commands. Your nose scrunches in indignation.

His grip on your throat loosens, that same hand traveling down to his aching cock. Jake teasingly traces the tip along your cunt, earning another hip buck from you.

“You know what to do, baby,” he teases.

“One word will give you everything you want.” He slaps the tip against your throbbing clit. You want to continue playing this game, but you know you won’t last long.

You sit up, propping yourself up on your elbows. The camera has the perfect view of your face and your pussy that clenches around nothing.

Your eyelashes bat against your cheeks as you bite your lip. “Please, Daddy. Please fuck me.”

As soon as the pet name leaves your mouth, Jake is diving back into you in a hungry frenzy. The force pushes you back onto your back. His pounding thrusts have you seeing stars, his tip kissing your cervix each time.

“Was that so fucking hard?” He grunts. One of his hands grips your waist, providing him with the leverage necessary to continue fucking you deep and hard. The other hand, is focused on filming every beautiful second of this. From the way you look wrapped around him, to the way your mouth falls open because of the sheer pleasure coursing through your veins.

His grunts bring you closer to the edge, especially when mixed with the filthy words that fall from his lips. “Did Kevin fuck you this good? Did his dick have you squirming and whimpering like this?”

You’re too fucked out to respond, causing Jake to pound into you even harder than before. “Hmm? Did he?”

“No, Daddy. No one fucks me this good— fuck!” Your eyes screw shut as he fucks you at a particularly delicious angle. “Only you do, Daddy. Only you.”

You feel your climax approaching quickly, so you slither your hand down to your clit. Your fingers rub circles into the sensitive bud as you chase your high.

Jake’s orgasm must be close too because his hips stutter and his movements become sloppier, a string of curse words and moans melodically falling on the skin of your neck.

“I’m coming!” You squeak.

Your legs convulse and shake as your orgasm washes over you, your core clenching around Jake’s cock as he continues pushing and pulling inside of you.

“Fuck. You feel so good, baby. So, so good,” he praises as your plushy walls continue clamping around his dick.

He’s so unbelievably close, all he needs is to hear you say his name one last time. “Say my name, baby. I’m so close.”

You chant the pet name like a mantra, kissing his sweaty chest and shoulders repeatedly to help him reach his orgasm. He loves the way you say it and would gladly listen to you say it forever if he could.

Jake’s hips snap into you one last time as hot, sticky ropes of cum paint your insides. A breathy, animalistic moan racks through his body as he collapses onto you.

For the first time in a long time, the weight of a man’s body on you doesn’t feel suffocating. Instead, it feels comforting and you’d love for him to remain this close to you for as long as possible.

But, unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. So, as you both recover from the powerful orgasms that just surged through your body, he pulls out of you slowly.

You immediately miss the feeling of him inside of you and as he turns the phone off, you find yourself wishing you were still under the spotlight, because maybe then the moment would last longer.

You sit up and adjust your dress. “Hope you got your footage,” you comment, attempting to sound nonchalant. “It’ll get a lot of views.”

Jake pulls his pants up, sending you a bewildered look. “You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m sharing this,” he chuckles.

Your brows furrow in confusion, a slight twinge of embarrassment painting your expression. “Was it not good enough?”

As you await his response, you crawl into the passenger seat. He follows suit shortly after, joining you in the driver’s seat.

“Was it not good enough?” He scoffs, restating your question like it’s an insult. “It was too good.”

A blush forms on your face. You don’t know what it is about Jake that always makes you feel like a giggly teenage girl.

“It was too damn good, baby. And Daddy doesn’t like sharing.”

Instinctively, your thighs press together. He always managed to rile you up within seconds.

“You’re mine, don’t forget that. I’m greedy,” Jake states.

You nod your head slowly.

“And whatever Daddy wants, Daddy gets.” His right hand rests on your thigh as the other works the steering wheel. *2

“Yes Daddy,” you whisper, earning yourself a squeeze. If it meant he’d fuck you like he just did, you were going to continue calling out his name.

—

MASTERLIST

a/n:

okay so I’m writing Arranged CH.2 rn, but this idea just came to me based on the two requests (linked). Also, I need a smut break tbh I NEED TO WRITE SOMETHING FLUFFY AND/ OR ANGSTY. which is what Arranged is perfect for 😏

I’m trying to gain the motivation to write frequently again so I can post more, but it’s a process. I’m getting there guys.

Thank you my sweet anons for these reqs (linked), hope you enjoy!!!

- L.A.M.B 👼🏻💗

—

1* Kendrick V. Drake, thoughts? Personally, I’m team Kendrick 🤔 the songs are too damn catchy

2* I know he says “whatever daddy wants, daddy gets,” as a joke, but let’s pretend he says it to get us all worked up. okay? Okay.

—

taglist: @nickgetsmewetter @sturniololovers @raysmayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03 @k-l-a-w-s @maryx2xx @biggesthat3r @herxyzblog @getosuckers @sturnioloarchive @tillies33ssss @fratbrochrisgf @aurizp @riasturns @sturnikitty @sturnrc @sturtriple16 @sillyfreakfanparty @imwetforyourmom @mattslovelygf @certifiednatelover @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @luvr4miya @somegirlfromasgard @l0vergrlll @pepsicolapussy333 @unbruisable @sugrhigh @khxna @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @callsignwidow

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐 if your user is striked through, I wasn’t able to tag you :(

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ktgoodmorning · 8 hours

Text

Goodnight, mi Tana

Aitana Bonmati x adhd!reader

This is just my experience as someone with adhd, I know I don't speak for everyone!

Masterlist

“Baby, do you realize what time it is?” You jumped at the sound of Aitana’s voice suddenly breaking you from your focus on your book. She had been gone most of the day with some friends and you hadn’t heard her come home, let alone come out to join you on the balcony. Your eyebrows furrowed because of course you didn’t know what time it was, but you weren’t sure why it mattered. You had been laying there for a while now, reading and working on your tan, just basking in the beautiful weather.

“I don’t know, three, four O’clock?”

“It’s almost eight! Have you-”

“Eight?!” You jolted up, “How the hell is it eight? I’ve been out here almost the entire day. How did I not notice?! I haven’t even eaten!”

You thought you’d been outside for maybe an hour or two, definitely not the whole day. Now you had hardly any time left to do the laundry or any of the other more “necessary” tasks that you put off until you had done some reading.

In your slightly panicked state, your girlfriend came to join you, taking both your hands in hers to break you from your thoughts and try to calm you down. “It’s okay, love. I can help you get some of that stuff done before we go to bed, and we’ll have plenty of time to finish it up tomorrow.”

You pulled your hands from her hold and roughly ran them over your face with a loud groan. “No, Aita, you don’t understand! I wasted my whole day out here and I still have so much energy because I want to do other stuff but now I need to start winding down to go to bed soon.”

Aitana was used to you sometimes getting frustrated at yourself for things like this but this was the worst you had been in awhile. It was clear you had no intention of being outside all day but once you got into your book, there was no way of stopping you. It killed her at times to see the way it affected you and how you got so angry at yourself even though you both knew you were doing your best. “Well you’ve still got time, you could start something else tonight and finish it up tomorrow?”

“No! Why would I bother starting it tonight if I can’t just finish it? If I start something else I’m gonna be up late trying to finish, there’s no point.” Your voice had inadvertently raised, something that happened quite a lot and you were both used to at this point. Your girlfriend knew not to take your yelling personally and that it wasn’t her that had you losing your patience, it was entirely yourself. She’d almost prefer if it were her fault though, because at least then she would know how to help. When it was with yourself, there was little she could do.

“Why don’t we just start by going inside and getting you some food? Then we can go from there and see what time it is.”

You gave her a slight nod and allowed her to help pull you up and lead you inside to the kitchen, motioning you to sit down while she got some food out for you. “Any requests?”

“Uggghhhh, no. Nothing sounds good, I’m not even hungry anymore.” You buried your head in your hands, resting on the table as you whined at your girlfriend who was just doing her best to help you.

“I’ll just get you a little bit of everything then, and I’ll eat whatever you don’t want. At least one of them should be okay.” Atitana was mostly talking to herself, sensing that you had hit a wall where you didn’t feel like talking much and just wanted to focus on regulating yourself. She could see your shoulders rising and falling as you took some deep breaths, but decided to keep working on getting some food together, rather than try to help you calm down right now. She kept a close eye on you while she finished making your food, wanting to make sure you didn’t get any worse. When she set the plate down in front of you, she ran her hand gently over your back to get your attention.

“Baby, what can I do for you? I really think eating will help but we could go eat on the couch instead, if you want?

You remained silent but gave her a nod as you pulled your head from your hands and tiredly looked up at her.

“Oh, baby,” she pushed some hair behind your ear, heartbroken by the helpless look on your face, “Let’s go sit down; I’ll bring your food.”

You followed her out of the kitchen, looking much like a young child who had just been woken from a nap, and laid down on the couch lazily.

“Do you want me to grab you a blanket before I sit down?” Aitana set your plate down on the coffee table and was now just looking at you expectedly, trying to figure out how to help you.

“Tana,” your voice was almost a whisper, suddenly much quieter than you normally were. “Could you just lay on me for a few minutes?”

Her previous face of worry broke into a soft smile, more than happy to fulfill your request. “If I ever say no to that, there’s something seriously wrong with me," she giggled into your neck as she gently laid down on you, both of you instantly relaxing into the contact.

Both the pressure of her on top of you, along with the sound of her laughter, helped distract you from the anxieties that had been building just moments earlier. It was like hitting control alt delete on your spiraling and making it magically disappear. Suddenly your breathing was calmer, as well as your mind, and you no longer had to worry about all the things you didn’t get done, you had all the time in the world to make sure it all got done tomorrow.

After a few minutes of just laying there, both at peace with where you were at, the Catalan woman’s head popped up to look at you. “Think you’re ready to eat some food?” Her persistence made you smile. She obviously knew that food would help you feel better but didn’t want to push too hard to get you there.

“Si. Food sounds like a good idea.” Aitana rolled off of you and passed you the plate she had made up, full of a variety of different foods. She knew how picky you got when you were in a bad mood so she made sure there were plenty of things that were always safe bets. “Gracias, Tana. This is perfect,” you leaned over to give her a short kiss, “You know me too well.”

She brushed it off with a small shrug and kissed you again before you started digging into the food in front of you. “Don’t feel like you have to eat it all, I’ll finish anything you don’t want. Then maybe when you’re done you can shower and get changed, and then we’ll put on a movie or something?”

You groaned, mouth still full of food. “I don’t want to shower, it feels like so much work.”

“What if I say I’ll join you?” You quirked an eyebrow at her, trying to see if she was serious. “I’m not saying anything’s gonna happen, I’m too tired for that. But I’ll still join you if you want?” Your girlfriend watched you continue to shove food in your mouth while you contemplated her offer.

“If you’re joining, then I’m in.” Her eyes lit up instantly now that she knew her plan would work, just smiling at you and cuddling into your shoulder as you finished your food. Knowing you didn’t like sitting in silence for long, she filled you in on her day and her time with her friends, getting you caught up on everyone’s lives. You normally didn’t like to sit and listen to people without chiming in yourself, but with Aitana, you could do it all day long if you could. Something about the way she would break into little giggles and looked so bright when she talked about the things she loved, just made your heart full.

You hadn’t even noticed you had just finished the last of your food until she pointed it out to you because you had been far too focused on listening to her story. “Baby, I’ll take your plate, if you go get in the shower. I’ll come join you in a minute, yes?” You responded with a kiss before getting up and helping her up as well. Both going your separate ways until she could join you.

...

After your shower, you both got changed and brushed your teeth together before getting cuddled up under the covers of your bed.

“Do you want me to put a movie on? We don’t even have to watch, maybe we just put one on in the background while we just cuddle?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect.” You rolled into her side before she even had a chance to respond, chuckling lightly at your sudden clingy-ness. “Don’t put on anything too serious, I’m not planning on paying attention. I’ll probably end up talking through it or falling asleep anyways.” You both giggled at your words. It was true. You almost never made it through a movie and Aitana was always there to tease you about it.

You snuggled into her further, placing your head on her chest as she held you against her. “Maybe I should read a little bit before bed. I didn’t have much left in my book when you came home today, I bet I could finish it.”

“Amor, I mean this in the best way, but you have over a hundred pages left. If you even look too hard at that book, you’re gonna be up all night trying to finish it. That’s not a good idea. We have training tomorrow.”

“But Tanaaaaaa. It’s really good and I just think that I’d sleep better if I knew what happened. We only have morning training so if I’m tired I could just take a nap in the afternoon.”

“I understand you want to finish your book baby, but you aren’t pulling any more all-nighters. You need sleep, it’s not healthy.” You only responded with a pout, eyebrows furrowed together, locking eyes with her in hopes that she’d give in to you even though you both knew it wouldn’t work. You were constantly giving her this face yet she rarely gave in, especially if it was something related to your health and well-being. When she only responded with a blank stare, you dropped your head back to her chest to continue chatting.

As soon as you got comfortable again, the two of you immediately fell into conversation about anything and everything. You talked about the transfer window and all the current football news, the book you had been reading and all your thoughts on it, truly everything that popped in your head. Somewhere in the midst of your talking, you realized that the movie Aitana had put on in the background was actually somewhat interesting, making you split your attention between it and your conversation.

“Baby! Are you even listening?” she tickled your side lightly as a way of bringing your attention back to her.

“I’m sorry, Tana!” You giggled into her neck, hugging your arms around her tightly. “I was trying to listen but look, the movie actually got kinda good!”

“You never get through entire movies! And now when we finally get smart and put on a boring one you suddenly pay attention?!” She wasn’t actually mad at you, the huge smile on her face made that incredibly clear. You just beamed back at her. The two of you probably looked ridiculous as you both smiled at each other from ear to ear, saying nothing while the movie continued in the background.

“Aita, you should really pay attention, it’s good!” Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at you before following your attention back up to the television. The two of you managed to snuggle even closer together, if that was even possible. You still talked here and there when you thought of anything but were mostly focused on the movie.

It wasn’t long until you felt Aitana’s breaths evening out underneath you. When you lifted your head to look up at her, you found her sleeping peacefully, clearly exhausted from her busy day. You moved slowly in hopes of not waking her up, trying to reach for the TV remote to turn it off and go to bed. Of course the second you moved though, her eyes fluttered open and a look of confusion crossed her face.

“What are you doing, baby? I’m watching!” Her accent was thicker than usual, giving away her little nap no matter how much she wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. The way she pretended to hide the fact that she was falling asleep just so you could finish the movie made you smile. She was always doing things like this, and you couldn’t have been more grateful for it.

“Aita you’re falling asleep. We can finish it tomorrow night, it’s okay. Let’s go to bed.”

“No! No, I’m not falling asleep!”

“Okay, well I’ll just turn it off anyways and we can keep chatting.” Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at you, obviously knowing what you were up to, but still getting further settled under the blankets. You reached over to turn off the lights and plug in your phone before you ended up laying face to face with Aitana. Your legs were tangled together in the sheets and the two of you were just looking at each other, sharing a soft smile. Her eyes were wide open now that she had woken from her little nap, but you couldn’t decide if she was actually feeling that awake or if she was just trying to hide the fact that for once, she was the one who drifted off during a movie and not you.

“We should really be sleeping right now, Tana. We have early training tomorrow and we both know you like getting to bed early.” You could function just fine with little to no sleep, or at least you liked to think so, but Aitana was a different story. She was much more strict on her sleep routine and would definitely feel it if there was a change to it.

“I know…” she trailed off, going quiet for a moment. “… wait! Remember what Ingrid was telling us about their anniversary coming up?”

“Oh my god, yes! Do you think she’s actually gonna do it? I know Mapi would love another cat but I just can’t see Ingrid going through with it! Can you?!”

And there you were. Both exhausted, both needing to be up early in the morning, both excitedly gossiping about your best friends. This was normal for you but normally you were the one who started it and kept you both up later than you planned, not your girlfriend.

It was obvious that Aitana wasn’t used to being up this late when her accent became harder for you to understand and her words started slurring together. It slowly became an intertwined mix of English, Spanish, and Catalan that you had no hopes of comprehending.

“But Bagheera is su bebé, así que tal vez no want someone else para robar la atención and maybe- wait why are you laughing at me?”

“Tana, you’re half asleep and making no sense. You’re not even gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, I really think you should go to sleep.”

“I’m not even tired, though.” her grumbling was hardly audible as you just shook your head at her, amused by the reversal of your typical roles.

“Okay well I’m gonna go to sleep, you can keep talking if you want, okay?” her only response was an incoherent mumble as you curled up into her side and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Goodnight, mi Tana. I love you.”

I really like my other adhd!reader one better but we'll see. I don't love this one. I wouldn't be shocked if I still do more like this though.

Requests are always encouraged! I'm starting to run low on ideas lately!

Masterlist

#wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingaitana #barcelona femeni #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati imagine #aitana bonmati x reader #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #espwnt x reader

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unreliablesnake · 3 days

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John didn’t like the way Johnny treated you. He asked you to join them for a drink, saying he needed his girlfriend after being away for so long, yet he spent his time in Simon’s company, getting drunk under the lieutenant's supervision while they were gossiping like stupid teenage girls. He saw the way they acted around each other and often wondered if there was anything more beyond their friendship. It was none of his business, of course.

Still…

If there was anything to know, the question was simple–did you know? Was this an open secret in your relationship or did you have a deal? Or were they doing things behind your back? It was clear as day that you felt like a third wheel as you levitated towards Kyle and himself for the most part of the evening. You were smiling and laughing, although he could see the sadness in your eyes.

“You okay, love?”

When Kyle excused himself for a moment, he sat on the stool the sergeant previously occupied and leaned closer to you with his elbow resting on the bar top. You flashed a tired smile at him as you nodded, clearly ready to steer the conversation in a completely different direction. But he wasn’t about to let you do that so he put his hand on your shoulder and looked into your eyes.

“You can tell me, I’m good at keeping secrets,” he tried with the hint of a smile. But you only shook your head and quickly finished the rest of your drink. “Listen, I’m not blind, I can see how badly Johnny tends to treat you. If you want to talk, I’m here.”

For a moment he thought you wouldn’t respond. For a short second he assumed you would stand up and leave him there. But then you gulped loudly with your eyes seemingly locked on his lips, then leaned over to kiss him. At first he didn’t know what to do, but it felt so good that he had to give in to his needs. So he kissed you back, his hand moving from your shoulder to the base of your neck to pull you even closer.

He slowly slipped off his barstool then moved to cage you between himself and the bar top, his lips never leaving yours. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Kyle stopping a few feet away, his gaze shifting somewhere else once he realized what was happening. John sighed into the kiss when he realized he should stop, that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to get this intimate with you in front of everyone, including your boyfriend.

But it was hard for him to resist, so he placed a soft kiss on your cheek and said, “Why don’t we get out of here?” You moved your head back to look at him, searching his blue eyes for a clue to see if he was serious. He nodded, hoping this would convince you. “I’m sure Johnny wouldn’t even notice until later. I want to cheer you up, sweetheart.”

You only smiled at him. And that damn smile on your perfect lips was his downfall.

#i have no excuse #john price x reader #john price #captain john price #captain john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #call of duty #modern warfare #mw2 #mw3 #ghoap #ghost x soap

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daycourtofficial · 11 hours

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I will follow you into the dark

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3k | warnings: character death, depictions of violence and gore, depressive tendencies shown

Summary: going through the five stages of grief after Azriel’s death is much easier with his shadows’ assistance

Alternate summary: “daycourtofficial stabs everyone in the heart” - @milswrites

Author’s note: this is heartbreaking as hell but I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever written. I legitimately sobbed while typing this. Tagging my pookie @illyrianbitch bc I sent her an early draft and her fic ‘when the heart is still longing’ inspired a scene in this

Cold. Ruthless. Calculated.

Words used to describe who Azriel was for the first five hundred years of his life. He wore a mask of indifference, a cold exterior to the world, letting them believe he was nothing more than the cruel exterior he showed everyone past his beloved family.

Until he met you.

You, whose extraordinary kindness and never ending patience for him helped him through the darkest pits of his soul.

It’s this past self he thinks about as the blade meets his skin, tearing through layers of muscle, blood spilling down his chest as it’s removed.

It’s this past self he reaches out to, begging for one moment to go back. To go back and save himself so much time. He would go back, his wings carrying him across Prythian, his landing harsh as he sprinted through your hometown.

He wouldn’t stop until he knocked on your door, his knuckles aching from how hard he would knock. He’d give anything to go back, even if it was just an extra forty-five minutes. He would run until his lungs burned, his legs barely able to hold himself up. He’d run down the cobbled street the two of you would walk down after a night at Rita’s, leaning against each other for support after a night of drinking.

He’d run past the bakery the two of you would meet at every Thursday morning, splitting pastries between the two of you and gossiping about your friends. He’d run up the stairs to your apartment, running up the steps you two walked thousands of times. He’d stop in front of that green door, the spot you two stood in for your first kiss.

He would knock and knock and knock, his fingers bleeding from how hard his knuckles were hitting the wood. He’d look at you as you opened the door, confused as to who he was and what he was doing there.

“You don’t know me, but in a few days I’m going to run into you at the bookstore. I’ll be with my friend Nesta and she’ll push me into you. She’s never admitted it, but I think she saw how I was staring at you and did it to force me to talk to you.

“You were so pretty, paging through some novel. I owe Nesta everything for pushing me into you, making me fall into the chair you were sitting in. It looked ridiculous - Nesta made sure to let Feyre broadcast it to everyone.

“I never cared. You were everything then, and you’ve been everything to me for over a century. What I wouldn’t give to come back here, to find you earlier, even just forty-five minutes. I’d give anything for more time with you.”

His eyes would peer around the apartment you moved out of decades and decades ago, moving all of your furniture into the house a ten minute walk from here. It would all smell like you, not a trace of him on you yet.

He would beg and plead with any god as to why he deserves just one extra minute of your time.

But he’s not in that apartment that you don’t own anymore, he’s somewhere in the present, he thinks. Azriel’s not sure where he is, but he reaches out towards you, trying to send every ounce of his love down that bridge that connects the two of you. He reaches a hand out, wanting to hold you one last time. He can feel your fear thrumming his chest as your hands frantically apply pressure to his neck, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

He interrupts your pleas, stroking his fingers on your cheek, smearing his blood across it.

You’re here, he thinks.

He loved making you blush, your own blood changing the color of your cheeks as he flirted with you. Now his own blood was coloring your skin, a last marking of himself on you.

Every word from his mouth caused the blood to gush from his wound, but he didn’t care. He was fighting for every breath, every word. He knew this was the end. He was just grateful to the Mother that the last thing he’d see in this life was you.

He chokes on his blood, coughing exacerbating the wound.

“In every life.”

He pulls himself up, using your shoulders to brace himself. He pulls your lips to his, soft and delicate, as if it’s the first time he’s kissing you all over again. As if you’re back on that cobblestone street, the two of you standing right in front of your door, a mess of limbs and lips.

The blood on his neck is traded for the tie he wore, one that you had complimented him on as you saw him. You had pulled him down to you by his tie, pulling him to your lips.

And now he was pulling himself up to you, a final goodbye.

He pours everything into it, pouring every last bit of himself through the string connecting the two of you, clinging desperately to that connection for every moment.

You kiss him back just as urgently, hands holding his wounds. His mouth is salty as your tears start running into the kiss, your hands sticky and warm with his blood.

Your kisses become more and more urgent as he starts losing energy, your sense of urgency increasing as he starts fading, that golden bridge connecting the two of you not as bright as it was with each passing moment.

You know he stopped kissing you back a moment ago, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. This should be a fairytale and true love’s kiss is enough to bring someone back.

You pull back, moving his face into your neck, unable to let go. You can’t hear anything except the echo of where your bond was, as if it clanged all the way down your body as it disconnected you from him. You feel someone grip your shoulders, desperate to pull you away from your mate. Your sobs are piercing as you tighten your grip on him.

He’s still warm, he can come back. Still warm, he’ll be back. You start rocking with him in your arms, your tears creating tracks in the blood on your face. A body is pressed to your back, large and warm, and large tan hands cover your own on Azriel’s face. You hear slight sounds, you think it might be Cassian, but you’re not sure.

You don’t feel his tears on your neck

All you feel is a deep, gaping hole inside of you where Azriel lives.

Lived.

Your breaths come fast and choppy, and you start jerking in Cassian’s arms, the feeling of him too much, too much. You felt suffocated, your powers boiling within you as his body grows colder.

His shadows slithered over you, several of them still remaining with their master. Their patterns were meant to be soothing, but it wasn’t working. Several of them cloak Azriel in mourning, their usual energetic nature dulled in the aftermath.

The air in the room changes as all the heat is sucked into your body, your skin blazing. It happens so quickly - you feel Cassian pull away from you as someone slides Azriel’s body from yours, somebody else rushing forward and tackling you to the ground. Instead of hitting hard flooring, your head hits grass, your body racing with adrenaline.

You look up to find Rhysand letting go of you before backing up. He has tears down his face, his eyes a muddier shade of violet than before.

“Let it out. Here. Now.”

Your skin is boiling, everything in you desperate for release. All you feel is the tendril of a lone shadow around your ankle as you burn. You can’t hear Rhys’s sobs, only the roaring of the fire as the grass catches the spark.

The next week goes by in a blur. A funeral - one where the town of black wore deep blue to honor your mate’s lifetime of sacrifice. A few shadows remain with you, the only reason you’re able to get through his funeral is with their touch.

“Hey Az.”

The grass is wet with dew, the early morning fog sticking to it. You don’t notice how damp the ground is beneath you as you sit next to him. Your hands grasp the grass next to his grave, the dirt over his grave too fresh for anything to be growing on top of it.

Your fingers thread through the blades, holding tightly, as if you can uproot them and pull him back to the surface, back to you. As if you kept digging you could find that bond nestled within you somewhere.

Your lip wobbles as you try to say something, anything. The various flower arrangements that surround you both speak of how many visitors he’s had.

He would tell you that the bouquet of orange lilies are from Elain, because those are currently in bloom in Day. He would tell you that the arrangement of blue and black came from Rhysand and Feyre, the flowers meaning ‘a great sacrifice’.

You can’t bring yourself to tell him how the world has become duller in his absence, how you hardly eat or bathe, hardly leave your home at all. How Nesta and Feyre take turns visiting you, ensuring you eat and bathe, getting you to move your legs at least once a day.

He’d be disappointed you weren’t taking care of yourself. He’d want you to continue on, despite the unbearable horrors that live in your chest. It felt like your entire ribcage were burst open, your pain and sadness leaking out of every pore for all to see.

Despite the fact that centuries together have led you here, at the end of the road. A road you happily traveled, knowing it would end here eventually.

You’d never regret choosing him, opening yourself up to this inevitable heartache.

You just regret every moment that happens now that he’s gone.

His shadows have followed you to the cemetery, their presence one you’re grateful for. You know they love you, much like Azriel did, and you’ll take any part of him you can cling onto.

You know they’ll leave eventually. No one understood them. Were they sentient beings? Or were they mere whispers of Azriel’s presence, an echo of an echo of his power, disappearing whenever they wish?

You sit, your back leaned against his tombstone, the words “beloved mate” pressing into your back. You moved over, wanting to be as close as possible to him. You don’t much care if the dirt sticks to your skirts. Nuala and Cerridwen won’t say anything to you. They felt his absence too.

You push your hand into the dirt, grasping at it in hopes he’ll grasp your hand back. All you feel are the shadows swarming your fingertips, imitating his soft touch.

You lay in your bed, the one that is much too large without your mate. The shadows cloak over you like a blanket, carrying his smell with them.

They missed him too.

You sealed some of Azriel’s clothes away, a magical enchantment that preserved their smell. You were grateful you had the shadows for now, however fleeting their presence may be.

Where Nesta and Feyre helped you bathe, the shadows helped keep your room clean. You stayed in the House of Wind, everyone agreeing you shouldn’t be alone during this time. That was weeks ago, you think.

You’re not really sure.

Time wasn’t moving like it used to anymore. Hours and days pass without your notice, a gray fog hanging over you at all times. You move through the monotony of grief, unaware of your surroundings or how you get anywhere half the time.

You blink and find yourself at his grave.

“It was supposed to be me,” you half yell at the grave marker, your blood getting warmer with your anger.

You hate it. You hate how everything he was, six centuries of a life well-lived, were boiled down to adjectives and monikers.

“Beloved mate.”

“Beloved brother.”

You hated those words, as if that’s all he were. The words don’t tell how he would pick you up when you fell asleep reading and carry you to bed, how he’d help you cheat every time you played cards against Cassian because you laughed so hard whenever he flipped the table, or how his fingers would brush the hair from your face when the two of you cooked dinner every night.

‘Beloved’ is nothing to how your chest felt when he’d come home and see you before he updated Rhysand after being gone so you knew he was okay.

‘Brother’ is not enough to convey how much he loved Rhysand and Cassian, how much love and sacrifice they poured into each other.

“You said I could go first. You promised. And now I’m here, alone, without you. And I don’t- I don’t know how to do it.”

You were yelling, screaming at this slab of granite. You kicked the flowers on the grave, watching them fly through the air as the petals fell.

Yellow for friendship.

“It was supposed to be me! Not you!”

You tug at your hair before you lose all your strength, sinking into the grass covering his grave. Your tears resemble morning dew as they cling to the grass, your knees becoming green with the contact. A few shadows wind through your hair, a few others bring back the bouquet you kicked, placing the flowers back where they were, albeit a bit damaged.

“You’ve never broken a promise before.”

Your voice is weak, the stone in front of you unresponsive to your breakdown.

Life moves on. Everyone feels Azriel absence - even Lucien, so full of words is quieter around you. They don’t know how to talk to you anymore, your life becoming more and more hollow as the mating bond in your chest decays, growing into a moldy, decaying thing that turned you rotten.

Why him? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else? Why was it your mate - the one who sacrificed everything all of the time? Why wasn’t it Cassian or Rhysand or any of his spies?

Anyone but him.

You’d do anything.

The days keep moving, the forward progress of time a joke to you. Or perhaps you were the joke to the Mother. You slug through the days, finally able to bathe and dress yourself, but struggling to remember to eat.

Then the voices start.

It’s one soft voice, one you could hear in any lifetime, any world and know who it belonged to. His voice soft as ever delicately telling you to eat, coming and going on the wind around mealtimes.

You listened to it. You could never stay no to him, even if it was just an echo of him living in his shadows.

It was well known amongst his family members that Rhysand required his beauty sleep. Eight hours minimum of undisturbed slumber.

Which is why he is tearing through his house on a warpath at whoever is at his door at 2:30 in the morning. He angrily slung on a robe, harshly opening his door, ready to chew out who lay on the other side.

He did not expect to find you, panic stricken, shadows swirling around you.

Your sobs fill his ears, “they won’t stop, Rhys. They keep telling me everything. That Feyre’s asleep, Nyx is asleep and cooing. Cassian’s snoring, Nesta’s awake and brewing tea. They won’t stop.”

You start to collapse, but the shadows hold you up long enough for Rhysand to grab you and bring you in through the threshold.

He places you down on the couch and inspects the shadows swirling around you. He watches them flit about, some moving away, some circling you. He steps on one as it slithers past him, holding it in place.

He looks at you as he grabs the shadow, holding it between his thumb and forefinger, watching it wiggle in his grasp.

“Is this the first time they’ve spoken to you?”

You shake your head no, whispering, “they speak one at a time usually. And not like this.”

His gaze is sympathetic, sitting you on his sofa. “What do they usually say?”

You look down at your shoes, a sense of shyness overcoming you. You pick at your pants, “mostly to eat and take care of myself.”

You hum, remembering, “last week one of them told me Nyx was going to fall, which is how I caught him so quickly.”

Rhys’s eyes are penetrating as he gazes at you, his eyes are a curious shade of violet.

“Can we try something?”

Months later, you return home, the black of your clothes hiding the blood soaked within them. You traipse through the foyer, forgetting it was even family game night. Their conversations halt at your appearance. Despite wearing the same colors of the Night Court, the black looks like a deeper shade on you.

Or perhaps the shadows circling you made you look as if you belonged amidst them rather than the fae looking at you.

You nod to Rhys, your only form of communication these days. He nods back, a strained smile on his lips, devastated to watch what you’ve become, grateful he made a pact with Feyre to never continue on without her.

You don’t miss how his hand squeezes her a little too tight.

Your family watches as you step back into the shadows, the darkness consuming you once more. You prefer to stay in them instead of being alone. You linger in their embrace, their consumption of you everything you need, the remnants of Azriel’s scent lingering in this liminal space. You inhale his scent once more, tears stinging your eyes. In the darkness that surrounds you, never knowing where you end or begin, not knowing exactly where in the world you were.

Where nothing and everything existed, floating through your mate’s truest companions, you hear his voice calling to you, the soft tenor of his voice coming from a direction you can’t quite pinpoint.

Or perhaps it was only an echo.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading 💕

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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ghouljams · 3 days

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'Til Death (Remember Me in Your Will)

Rating: Mature (Minors Do Not Interact) Words: 3.7k Tags: David "Hesh" Walker/F!Reader, Sugar Daddy au, Dom/sub undertones, flirting Summary: You start dating Hesh as a way to supliment your income. It's not like you've never sugared before, you know how to play this game. It's just too bad Hesh seems to have his own ideas about what this relationship is. Next Chapter > ao3

You’ve always been smart. You don’t know if you’ve always been pretty, but you try not to be too harsh on your younger self. You also have bills to pay. You’re fortunate enough to be doing what you love, working a job you’re passionate about, and getting paid shit all for it. Luckily you’re not the one paying your bills. You have sugar daddies for that.

Like you said, pretty, and smart enough not to rely on one stream of cash. You have a couple men you sugar for, all old enough to make sure they know you’re not looking for love, and with enough experience to get you off at the end of the night. It’s a good situation, everyone gets what they want, and you don’t worry about your job paying you barely above minimum wage. When one man drops you, you hit up your favorite sites for another. Which is how you got here, staring at Hesh with a cup of coffee held tight between your hands and a hangover that throbs like a lobotomy.

What you don’t know is how he got in, but you’re more focused on his offer than anything else. Drop the other men you sugar for to be his exclusively, and he’ll double every dollar they pay you monthly. You’re not greedy by any stretch of the word, but your mouth waters at the proposal. That’s a lot of money he’s laying on the table.

“And what about sex?” You ask him. It’s been months of dating him, and Hesh still hasn’t touched you. In fact the smoldering tension between you has made all your other relationships feel cold. Forcing you to rely on your toys after sex these days when your other daddies fail to perform. That doesn’t mean you want to cut it off cold turkey. You can’t, not when he still makes you throb eagerly even with the hangover migraine. If he doesn’t want you, there’s no deal.

There’s something steely in Hesh’s eyes when he leans forward, his elbows settling on his knees. His smile is wicked, predatory, it makes goosebumps prickle over your skin. Your blood runs hot, and follows his eyes as they drop to stare between your legs.

“Baby,” He purrs, “I’ll fuck you over this table right now, all you gotta do is say yes to me.”

(six months ago)

You check your makeup in your compact mirror. Not your favorite, but you find the men you date appreciate the femininity of it. There’s something terribly alluring about swiping your pinky over the corners of your lips with a compact mirror in hand, and you don’t get that sort of sex-out-of-the-bag flavor with your phone camera. You really need all the cards you can get tonight too. You’ve got a date with a new man, a new sugar daddy. You don’t usually go for them when they’re this close in age to you, but he seemed nice, and paid in advance(no strings attached), so you’re taking the chance on him. He offered to pick you up, but… you’re not about to get trapped in a car with a man you don’t know. It’s better having a quick escape route if the date goes south.

You snap your compact shut and tuck it neatly back into your purse when you spot your date. He hands his keys to the restaurant’s valet, and offers you a smile. He’s wearing a suit, you expected as much with the caliber of restaurant he suggested, but it’s nice being dressed up for. You hold your hand out in greeting as his long strides carry him close. You’re pleasantly surprised when his fingers grip yours and raise your hand to his lips. He just grazes your knuckles, his eyes heavy on yours as he kisses your hand. They’re green, you note. Not just his eyes either, his suit too. It’s so dark you’d mistaken it as black, but it’s green, and it makes his eyes positively electric looking.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” He smiles, dropping his hold on your hand and slipping his around your back as you turn to walk into the restaurant.

“I just got here,” A white lie, you got here with ten minutes to spare, never early or late for the men you date. Your date hums, his thumb rubbing against the small of your back, right where the zipper of your dress ends. His hand splays wide, his pinky grazing the swell of your ass. It sends a little shiver through you, the touch quickly removed as your date gives his name to the host.

“Walker.” He voice, sure and even, louder than the intimate softness of his voice when he’d greeted you, makes something warm slither down your spine.

“David Walker,” you feel the name over your tongue, adding the last name to the one he’d had on his profile. You feel the way his attention slips back to you heavily, it may as well be another hand with the warmth that it draws over you.

“My friends call me Hesh,” He sounds proud, but not like he’s puffing out his chest. There’s no bragging to the nickname, just the simple exchange of information.

He settles his hand on your back again when the host leads you to your table. The firm pressure not pushing you, not hurrying you, but steadying you. You wonder if he doubts your ability to walk in the heels you picked, or if he’s simply the touchy sort. You suppose you’ll figure it out soon enough. He pulls your chair out like a gentleman, helps you scoot in to the table, and takes his seat across from you without a wasted movement. You’ve never met a man that seemed so immediately comfortable in his own skin.

You suppose that comes with the territory. The men that pay you, pay you for a reason. You’re arm candy, or a kink, or an easy lay that’s a step better than a prostitute for men too important to “date down”. You know all sorts of men, but Hesh… Hesh seems like he could find a partner easily. Maybe it’s a time issue. You’ve only dealt with some of those. The type of man that doesn’t have the time in his life for dating. You slot the possibility into your mental file for Hesh, and settle your elbows on the table, leaning against them with a smile.

“So,” You draw the word out, give him time to eye the way your breasts push together against the low cut of your dress, “how was your day?”

It’s a simple question, one that never feels out of place, but busy men will always talk about their work. Hesh’s eyes drag over you, flicking to meet yours from their brief rest on your chest. He smiles, taking the menu set in front of him to look over as he speaks.

“I’m in the military if that’s what you’re askin’.” You feel yourself falter a little, regaining your composure, your smile, when he glances up at you.

“You must be busy,” You try, keeping your tone interested but light. You dislike intelligent men, the ones that can see through you, see through your questions, it makes it harder to play the game when both sides know the rules. But a date is a date.

“Hard to date with deployment looming,” He admits, or perhaps supplies, helping you build your mental catalog for him. You nod, you can see that. It would certainly make it hard to keep someone around without an incentive, hence the use of a sugar baby. Ah, got it. You file him neatly into the correct box and reach for your water glass.

“I can imagine,” You raise a brow, taking a sip, busy men like talking. Busy men tell you about themselves, what they can do for you, what you should do for them, how busy they are and how little time they have for you, as if you’re meant to be grateful for every second they allow you.

Hesh waits. He sits patiently, watching you with interest as you swipe your thumb over the lipstick stain you’ve left on the rim of the glass. He’s quiet, observant. Unnerving. Busy men talk, and Hesh isn’t talking. He’s watching, taking you in like he has all the time in the world. He sets his menu down and laces his fingers together on the table. You wish you couldn’t feel the hesitance in your fingers as you take another sip of your water, delaying the inevitable.

“Do I make you nervous,” He asks after your third sip. There’s a keen evenness to his tone, low and deep enough to shiver goosebumps over your skin. You set your water down and plaster on a smile that feels as fake as you’re sure it must look.

“Of course not.”

“You done this before sweetheart?”

“Sugar?” You can feel Hesh’s hum, the warmth of it spreads through your chest, his eyes soft and his smile inquisitive. “Once or twice.” You lie.

“Once or twice,” He turns the words back to you. An interrogation technique you often employ during these sorts of things. It works though. You bite down the need to correct him, to tell him maybe it’s more than just once or twice.

“It’s hard to pay the bills with just my work.” You explain, though you’re not sure why. Something in your stomach flutters to explain yourself to this man, the desire shakes itself through your bones. He reaches for his own water glass, draws the moment out as you watch his Adam's apple bob with the motion of swallowing. You've done this a good dozen times, but no one has put you on your toes as quickly as Hesh has. You take the moment to give him a once over. There's a slight shadow over his jaw, we'll groomed stubble that feeds its way into close cropped brown hair. Young-ish, with an age to his eyes that makes you wonder what he's been through, what he's seen. He's just at what you would call “acceptably older” if you were actually dating him, but he still wears his youth in the gleam of his smile. He watches you like a hawk, and you in turn watch him like a rabbit.

“Non-profit, right?” Hesh confirms, and you nod, before quickly giving a verbal affirmative. Verbal answers are more confident, and you've done this too many times to be losing your confidence now. Hesh is outside of your normal routine, but a sugar daddy is a sugar daddy, and at the end of the day they all want one thing. A pretty thing on their arm. They don't care about what you do or who you are, as long as you go home with them at the end of the night. “Do you enjoy it?”

The question takes you off guard. Or, not the question itself, you've heard that a hundred times at least, it's the genuine interest disguised behind an impassive smile. You blink at him.

“I-” you don't give details about your work, they don't want details, you give the necessary ‘yes’ and move on to talking about him or playing footsie under the table, “I do it’s-”

Your waiter stops beside the table, and you feel Hesh's attention leave you like a weight falling off your chest. He speaks with conviction, orders wine for the both of you, and where you usually feel as though that sort of move is right out of a “how to show women you’re the boss 101” handbook, on him it feels natural. He’s used to commanding attention, to giving orders. No wasted breath, no wasted words. Hesh orders and you wonder if he’ll do the same for your meal.

“What did you say you did in the military?” You ask when the waiter leaves, and Hesh’s eyes feel all the heavier on you for your interest.

“We were talking about you,” He corrects. The way he sits and looks at you show a man that holds not just himself to high standards, but everyone else as well. The weight of his full attention is crushing now that you’ve felt it leave you, and yet it sparks something in you. A desire to please. A desire to live up to those expectations.

He’s here for you, you don’t want to disappoint him.

You’ve never had a conversation with a man who makes you feel so aware of yourself. You can feel the brush of fabric against your skin like a touch, and each breath you take seems to tease you as your dress pulls over your chest. And his eyes… He touches every inch of exposed skin he can with them, drawing warmth over you until you’re positively alight with want. You have to excuse yourself to the restroom. He stands with you, old school manners you’ve only seen in movies, and offers a hand to help you around the table. You think you feel the brush of his fingers over your hip, his touch burning through you even when you must have imagined it.

You fix your makeup in the bathroom mirror, attempt to clean up some of the mess you’re making in your panties. God. It’s been so long since you had a date that stoked the fire low in your stomach, a man that looked at you like something to be desired not just a sure thing. When’s the last time your date seemed so interested in you, asked questions to further your answers, brought up topics that related to something you’d mentioned and not just something he could brag about? When’s the last time you had a good date with a hot guy and weren’t worried about whether it would be worth your time?

God have you really not thought about the money this whole time? You’d been so swept up in the way Hesh spoke to you, the way he looked at you, that you couldn’t think of anything else. Even now you can’t help thinking of the way he’d purred, “Anythin’ you want,” when you’d asked what to order. The memory of his voice makes you press your thighs together. You want to know what he’d say to you without the filter of public decency. You want to know how he’d touch you behind closed doors.

He stands again when you make your way back to the table, waits for you to sit before taking his seat. You notice he’s barely touched his food since you left, only picking up his knife and fork when you do. You slot “slow eater” into your folder on him. It doesn’t matter you suppose, he sips his wine, always pours another swallow for you when you run low, and yet he seems to finish with you. His food is gone just a bite after yours is, and he leans against the table as the waiter whisks your plates away. Like he’s waiting for something.

It’s easy to slide your foot against his calf, easy to see the heat that burns in his eyes. You’re careful of your heel, but you’re well practiced in this game. He wants you, you know he wants you. That’s how these things work, pick a pretty girl off the site and take her home at the end. You get first right of refusal and some extra cash in your pocket, he gets to boast about the pretty thing he’s screwing.

“You hopin’ for something sweetheart?” Hesh catches your ankle under the table, firm fingers stopping you from trailing past his knee. His tone is casual, playful, his grip is not. “Gotta use your words like a big girl.”

“I’m hoping we can get the check,” You purr. Your dates usually rush for it, signal the waiter as quickly as they can to shuffle you into the back seat of their car, or the nearby hotel. You don’t think you’ve had a date ever end at dinner, the same way you’re sure you’ve never had a dinner last quite as long as this.

“We?” Hesh smiles, his thumb rubs your ankle, the friction making you shiver, “You offerin’ to split the bill little one?”

“Of course not Daddy,” the title falls from your lips with an invitation to touch further. You try not to stretch too obviously into his grip, feel the slip of your skirt as his fingers push up over your calf like a curtain drawing the evening to an end, “Just thought you might like to have dessert elsewhere.”

Hesh’s hand is warm and appreciative as it strokes your leg. You feel the drag of calluses, rough palms skating over your soft skin, and wonder how those thick fingers will feel once they’re inside you. Men like him… they like when you’re a little bold, they like knowing that you’re not too shy to avoid falling into bed on the first date. You’ve honed your edge against the predictability of the men you date, and you know you’re right by the way he catches the waiter’s eye and taps his fingers against the table.

You settle into the warm feeling of victory, and the knowledge that you’ve snagged another source of income. Not to mention the added benefit of sex. Hesh touches you with an idle sort of intimacy that makes heat throb between your legs, he touches you like it’s his right to, like he holds command over the how and when of it. You don’t think he’s the sort of man people often say ‘no’ to.

He drags his fingers over your shin, settling your foot against his knee as he takes his hand from under the table to take the check. It’s a bit of a stretch, the burn in your hamstring of keeping yourself looking presentably seated while still abiding by his placement is a wonderful precursor for the night ahead. You keep your eyes on him as he pays with barely a glance at the bill as he hands the waiter his card. The whisper of wealth. No, you don’t think people say ‘no’ to Hesh often. If ever.

Hesh slips his card back into his wallet as he stands, and moves around the table to offer you his hand. You don’t need it, but you like the way his fingers curl around yours, the firm grip he holds you with as you stand. You brush your hands over your skirt, letting the hem fall back into place. You don’t miss the way Hesh’s eyes follow the sway of your chest as you lean forward. Men are all alike, perfectly predictable.

You press close to his side, letting him feel the soft curves of your body as he leads you out of the restaurant. He hands the valet his ticket and you make a mental note to call one of your friends to come grab your car. Although you suppose you don’t have to spend the night, you can uber back here in an hour or so and grab it. The restaurant staff know you well enough they can let you park here for a bit.

“Are we going back to yours or finding a hotel?” You can’t say you aren’t interested in seeing where he lives, but a hotel is closer, and you’re ready to go.

“Neither,” Hesh hums, “you’re going home.”

He’s not- he’s not interested? Your confusion must read too clearly on your face because Hesh’s hand finds your waist and drags you close. You tip your head to avoid bumping your nose against him and he takes the motion as permission to kiss you. His lips searing yours as his hand squeezes the meat of your hip. You’re quick to wrap your arms around his shoulders, quick to press against the length of him, your chest to his, your hips to his. You can feel the thick twitch of his cock where you push yourself against it. (Fuck is that all him?) He’s like a furnace, radiating warm want that soaks into your skin. The night air feels freezing on your exposed skin

Hesh’s lips part, his breath a sigh as his head tips. The soft push of his lips against yours is exceedingly gentle for the hunger you can taste behind it. It shivers down your spine, aches in the creek of Hesh’s grip on your hips, a want that you can’t quantify. Your lips slide over his, his stubble tickling you a little as you part and kiss, part and kiss, again and again.

He presses, forces you to lean back, arching into him. You’re reliant on him to keep you standing, trusting your balance to a man you barely know. It makes your skin prickle, makes you want. You wiggle your hips, try to entice him to give you what you know he’s looking for, even slip your tongue in the part of his lips. His fingers tighten until you squeak with pain and pull away from the kiss.

He pulls you up, lets you go to take his keys from the valet. You can still feel his spit slicking your top lip, the tingle of his stubble against your bottom. You balk, the dark fabric of his suit does enough to hide the outline of his cock in the low light but you know what you felt. How can he just leave you like this?

“You’re serious.” You realize, and Hesh pauses with his hand on the top of his car.

“I am,” No wasted words. You hesitate, worry your lip between your teeth before you can stop yourself. Hesh waits you out, patient as a saint.

“But I thought-” You try to blink through your confusion, “I thought this went well.”

“It did,” Hesh smiles and it isn’t patronizing or pitying, but there’s something in it that doesn’t feel entirely friendly, “I’d like to get to know you better, that’s all sweetheart.”

You frown. The first genuine expression you’ve given him all night and it’s a furrowed brow. You fix your face before you lose the next date to your pouting. Hesh’s brows are heavy, his eyes lidding as he watches you. There is something dark and unreadable in the way he looks at you, something heady that makes you dumb. The chill rushes to you when he looks away, climbs into his car, and leaves.

#cod x reader #x reader #david walker #david hesh walker #david hesh walker x reader #hesh walker #hesh walker x reader #hesh cod #cod hesh #hesh x reader #sugar daddy!Hesh #f!reader

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currentfandomkick · 2 days

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Started as one thing and veered in another direction, enjoy!

Masterlist here

Last time was a fluke. A mistake… right?

Danny glanced around him, and looked in the mirror.

He looked the same. He didnt know how he even did it the first time. He had blacked out.

He still inspected himself. No gills or scales.

No glow-in-the-dark white on his skin in vertical lines flanked by black. Besides the usual body hair.

No green freckles. He… he can admit to missing those.

He kept checking daily. For any signs that, that form(?) was creeping back into his day to day.

That stupid ectopus he’s convinced is on ecto-dejecto or ghost steriods kept coming back.

It was to the point Boxy was concerned and ‘guarding his sleep’ (in exchange for origami boxes/cubes. He even made some for Lunch Box).

Danny decided to conk out during one of Lancer’s lessons after another attack the nogjt before.

He’s pretty sure Tapas/Taco is being restrained by his parents in an ecto-proofed tank.

Ancients he hopes so.

Lancer called him back after class, with that stupid ‘i know you are better than this and that accident does not excuse such poor behavior young man’ attitude most of the staff had toward him.

The actual lunch ladies were chill, and therefore his favorite. And Lunch Lady since she took to packing him an extra lunch that Boxy drops off. Something about fighting your food to eat it daily being ‘unacceptable!’

Whatever.

“Mr. Fenton, I understand that you are facing more challenges than your peers, but do try to stay awake in my class.”

“Got it. Blame Tapas.”

“You can’t blame mexican food for all your issues.”

“I don’t—Tapas is the ectopus that’s been obsessed with me and Phantom since the stupid thing showed up. It keeps escaping the Thermos, and i honestly have no clue how to keep him contained long enough to throw it at ecto animal control or ghost jail.”

“… Mr. Fenton, have you considered staying with relatives away from Amity until this issue is resolved?”

“I literally can’t.” His core sank at the idea. “Ecto contaminated and dependent. Medically speaking, until portable ecto is something that can be handled over long distances, I can’t leave for more than a hundred days, give or take, before dying.” No matter how much he wanted to at times.

Mr. Lancer frowned at him. “If possible, would mixed in-person and online schooling be something you’d be amenable to? I can speak with your parents and arrange alternative student success plan, but its clear the situation won’t improve unless better accommodations are put in place.”

Danny opened and shut his mouth. “If I can get them here, sure.”

“Excellent. I would like to continue your classes with myself in person to better monitor your progress, or we can do tutoring after school or during my usual block for Saturday detentions.”

Danny nodded in a daze.

Then something crashed in through the window.

“Adventures of Tom Sawyer!”

Danny threw himself against a wall, trying to get Taco off him, only to get pulled through a wall, and further.

Hey tried scrambling for something to grab, but he phased through everything and he couldn’t go ghost in front of everyone seeing him get kidnapped by an extra annoying octopus.

The fact it was being filmed made it Worse.

Fuck.

Masterlist here

If you want to join the tag list, comment on the master list or reblog saying you want to join

Tags: @theizzyof3malec3 @brattysleepyreader @sebas-nights @elidaweirdotaku0520 @bianca-hooks123

#dpxdc #long post #danny phantom #mer!danny #reincarnated danny #topo is a menace #dp x dc #part 3 i guess

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cloudedgalaxies · 3 days

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Three Nights Remain

Leona Kingscholar loves sleep more than anything else in Twisted Wonderland. So he is determined to continue sleeping all through the night when he has to host two freshmen crashing in his dorm for taking a rather stupid deal he had nothing to do with. It wasn't his problem.

Yet for some absurd reason, the three nights that the prefect stays in Savanaclaw, he doesn't get a wink.

Second Choice, Last Place

(part one) (part two) (part three) (read on AO3)

Word count: 4.5k

The moment Leona saw one of his freshmen bringing the herbivore and the weasel into his dorm, he knew that it was going to be trouble for him. He tried to avoid it as much as he could. Anything that didn’t involve him wasn’t his business, and wasn’t about to become his when it meant more work added to his plate he kept purposefully empty.

But here he was, watching his dorm get humbled by that very same freshman and strange package deal, where one wasn’t anything more than a pipsqueak and the other didn’t have a drop of magic in him. Here he was, finding that strangely enough, the person he thought would be dead last in a fight seemed oddly good at throwing down when the need arose.

Here he was, in his room, with two extra freeloaders on his couch that were much too loud and much too foolish for his taste, if they had gotten into a situation dire enough that forced them to stay here of all places. “Thank you again for letting us stay here,” the prefect said, as he made sure for the umpteenth time that his and Grim’s bags weren’t taking up any more space than they had to like a good little student.

Leona just hummed, making himself comfortable on his bed. “Don’t make me regret it.” Out of all the reactions that could have gotten out of him, the herbivore laughed. It made Leona crack open an eye to peer at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” Yuu sighed as he shrugged out of his uniform jacket, still trying to be as unimposing as possible as he draped it over his bag. “Usually I’m the one regretting things. Like this deal, for example.”

“Getting cold feet now?” Leona taunted, almost more a leer than a real question. He couldn’t help but smirk just a little. “You made your bed, herbivore. Now you gotta lay in it.”

Yuu huffed lightheartedly, the faintest hint of a smile etched on his lips. “Grim’s already taken care of that, I’m afraid.” He looked down at where the thing was already conked out, spread out on enough of the couch that it’d be a pain for the freshman to fit, too. Maybe that was the reason why he sighed, glancing down at bare wrists revealed by scrunched-up sleeves. “You wouldn’t happen to have a first-aid kit, would you?” he asked, that smile turning into something of a frown.

Another hum, as Leona eyed him through the slit he had to see through. “Didn’t know the herbivore was so easy to knock around.” He didn’t look all that beat up, but Leona could smell the tang of metallic blood in the air. Somewhere, skin had been broken. Wherever it was, he did a good job of hiding it, he’d give him that.

Maybe Leona was being a little mean. Something in him paused when the prefect’s eyes flickered, a dimmer thing flashing in them. “Didn’t know the lion took such pride in playing with his prey,” he shot back, making Leona’s second eye open as his eyebrow raised. “What a catch I am. ‘Doe-eyed and dimwitted,’ I think you put it. You must be flaunting me to everyone who’d listen as your best hunt.”

So the herbivore still had guts, even after facing beastmen full of snarling teeth and crackling spells. Leona smirked this time, tail flicking from where it was next to him. “Finally decided to drop that little act of respect, huh?”

Yuu grinned back, something twisted and dark and just evil enough to make Leona wonder if this frosh was really as out of place in this school as he originally thought. “Not at all.”

Doe-eyed, dimwitted and cheeky, he mentally added, a little more amused than he should’ve been to find out that the prefect had claws beyond just physical fights. “If I got anything, it’d be in the bathroom,” Leona finally said, trusting he wasn’t blind enough not to miss the door.

“Thank you very much, Housewarden Kingscholar.” He almost didn’t let the laugh that got out of him be anything more than another hum, but it did when Yuu somehow schooled his features to look as prim and proper as physically possible. He didn’t know how to feel about it. He could be asleep and yet here he was, laughing at some forgettable freshman’s joke.

Leona decided he’d sleep now, letting his eyes shut again. It wasn’t his problem that he had been foolish enough to make a contract with the cephalo-punk, and it wasn’t going to be. The only thing that he would contribute and take from this was a temporary lodging and a new, equally temporary servant.

But then little noises kept coming from beyond the wall—clinking and ripping and the shuffling of clothes—and he found that it was enough of a distraction to keep him awake. “Knock it off,” he called with a lazy snarl, turning onto his side. There were days that he didn’t mind his heightened senses, and then there were nights like now, when he almost wished he was as deaf as a human so that he could get to rest.

“Sorry. I’m almost done.” Leona’s ear swerved as he picked up something else. A faint gasp, the sharp inhale of a hiss. He felt a growl rising in his throat when he heard it, though he didn’t know quite what it was directed at. Irritation that he was still awake, he decided on, when another of those breaths were sucked in.

Leona dragged himself off his bed, stalking over to the doorframe. Yuu almost jumped when he saw him, making a little flash of predatory satisfaction run through the housewarden. It was accented with the smell of blood, sharper now, since the wound was exposed to the fresh air instead of covered like before. It was a gash on his arm, still weeping a thin stream of scarlet.

It wasn’t just that one place, he realized, when his eyes slid to the hand gingerly letting his bunched-up shirt fall again. There was a bandage already on his abdomen and a bruise budding on his hip, only the very edge visible from where it dipped below his pantline. Leona supposed if he looked closer, took in a deeper breath, he’d find hints of even more blood and blue on his body.

That growl returned. “You really are easy to rough up,” he scowled, eyes smoldering as he looked at the prefect. Yuu averted his for a moment, but then thought better of it, staring right back with a face that said how unafraid he was. Leona’s glower grew. He was too bold for his own good.

“I’ve managed just fine until now,” the herbivore reminded, going back to his wounds as though Leona was nothing but a shadow on the wall. He didn’t make a sound when he dabbed some sort of ointment on the cut, biting the inside of his cheek to muffle it. But Leona still caught the faint scent of pain, something just as sharp and thick as though he was feeling it himself. If he looked close enough, he could see the way the herbivore’s eyes squinted, in annoyance and exhaustion and a list of other things Leona didn’t want to list, because he shouldn’t be thinking about it anyways.

What a pain.

Yuu opened his mouth as Leona stepped closer, undoubtedly about to shoot another quip at him, but he stopped when he noticed that the housewarden had swiped a roll of bandages, ripping off just enough to wrap around his injury. His wrist was thin, Leona found himself musing when he felt the way Yuu’s heart skipped and thudded from his vein. It was almost impossible to see what he really looked like, thanks to the uniform that was at least three sizes too big for him, but even then, he wasn’t nearly as brawny as he’d imagined, to be able to take on the number of his dorm members he had and win. Then again, he would have to be small, to avoid the spells that seemed to follow him like fire streaking through dried grass.

He didn’t say anything, even as Leona tied the bandage ends together, keeping it there to cover the slice on his skin. “Thank you,” Yuu finally murmured, when Leona dropped his hands and leaned back, eyeing him a bit more. He really was puny. He couldn’t imagine that he’d be close to a filling snack to the menaces that were the Leech twins, let alone himself.

“Just stop making noise.” Yuu sighed, but the hints of a smile were on his face. Leona almost scoffed at it. The prefect started to put back together the supplies, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen into his face back again. That was when he saw it, able to look at it without distractions like other people or fights that he’d started.

Leona had known that Yuu got hurt from when he’d overblotted, but he had never been able to see just exactly what he’d done. It was the first time he was seeing it from so close up—taking in the claw marks that spread from the side of his head to the corner of his jaw, still red and still fresh, even though the tournament had been some time ago now. With how big and long the four scratches were, Leona was almost surprised that the herbivore still had an ear on that side. But miraculously, it was still there, only with a few nicks and tears to speak of.

It was healing as nicely as it could, but even so, it would no doubt hurt like no one’s business if it was put in saltwater—like the very sea he was going to dive into. That silent growl returned, but now Leona knew what it was directed at.

“You’re staring,” the prefect mused, not looking over at him as he crouched to put the kit away. “I’m done now, I promise. You can go back to sleep.”

He felt something whisper inside him, like mounds of sand were forming to weigh him down. “Change into something else,” Leona grumbled, despite the way something putrid covered his tongue like rotten meat. “Your shirt’s bloody.”

The prefect blinked, and it almost looked like he was noticing that for the first time when he caught sight of the crimson stain on its front. Leona fought the urge to make that growl audible. “I don’t really have anything else,” he admitted, looking a little embarrassed as he did.

Of course he didn’t. Whether that was because the eels didn’t give him enough time to pack, or he just never had enough clothes in the first place, Leona didn’t know. He sighed either way, feeling the telltale drag of drowsiness start to pull him back to his bed. If he didn’t get to go back to it within a few minutes, he’d be angry. “Take something of mine then,” he ended up saying, trying to make this go faster so that he could get to sleep earlier.

“Are you sure?”

Leona just eyed him in return. “Anyone with half a sense of smell in this dorm would catch a whiff of it. They’d be on you in seconds if they knew it was from you.”

It wasn’t a lie. The members of Savanaclaw were more feral than they should be some days, and it ended badly for anyone who was foolish enough to show their weakness off for others to exploit. If they knew that Leona was housing a wounded defect instead of just a defect, things would get bad for the both of them.

Only, he wasn’t either of those things. Leona didn’t know what to think as he watched Yuu tentatively open his closet while he stalked back to his bed, taking out the first shirt he thought Leona wouldn’t mind him wearing. This was a person—a herbivore—that had somehow taken him on at his stupidest, weakest, but still most powerful moment, something that he still didn’t know all the details of and didn’t want to, and won. Out of everyone in this school, Leona could count the people who were capable of that on one hand.

And yet, he still got pushed around like he was the weakest in the pride, beaten and used like a chew toy. Every time Leona had seen it, when those little spats had taken place in the botanical gardens for whatever reason, he had seen how the prefect had never fought back. He just defended himself with a look of set grimness on his face, and once his assailants were satisfied, he just went back to his day like they did. Maybe it was because he didn’t have magic. Maybe it was for some other reason, but all Leona knew and cared to know was that that was the way of the world. Those not favored were always second choice, and those not gifted were always last place.

Leona’s eyes narrowed as the prefect reappeared again, gently scooting Grim away for him to have enough space to curl up. Except, he didn’t. He reached down for his bag, pulling out a stack of documents thick as Leona’s wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, a snarl in his voice. It was too far past when he should have been asleep. It was too far past when the prefect should have been asleep, if Leona cared, but now he was starting yet another thing to keep them awake.

Yuu gave him a smile. Even in the dim light, Leona could see how it was strained, speaking of how desperately he wanted to drift off, too. “You can turn off the light. I won't disturb you.”

“That’s what your words are sayin’, but that’s telling a different story,” Leona countered, shooting an icy look at the papers. There was no reasonable way that a freshman should have that much of anything, homework or dorm responsibilities or anything else.

He didn’t put them away, much to Leona’s annoyance. He couldn’t read the text on it from his position, so he couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but he had a sneaking suspicion about it when Yuu sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “They have to get done by the end of the week,” was all he told Leona, an apologetic tone woven into his voice. Leona met it with an unimpressed stare. “Pretend I’m not here. I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”

Leona’s eyes narrowed. Yuu tried to give him a sheepish smile, and that was finally the thing that made Leona relent, rolling his eyes as he let his head fall on his pillows. “You’d better be.” The last thing the prefect did before Leona made the light go out with a wave of his hand was put a finger to his lips, already displaying how silent he could be.

It wasn’t his problem, and it wasn’t his mess to clean up. So Leona let his eyes close, nestling just a little further into his bed to get comfortable. But he found himself keeping his ears alert, pricked and swerved just the right way to pin down the herbivore’s every noise. He really was quiet, Leona would give him that—the only thing he could pick up for the most part, even with his inhuman hearing, was the faint scribble of a pen and the occasional louder exhale of a weak sigh.

At one point, there was something a little off. The air changed in a way Leona couldn’t quite place, making everything smell and sound and feel different. Then there was the sound of a cork uncapping a bottle, a whispered swallow, the rustling of a jacket as something was taken out or put back into his bag. Everything changed to normal a few seconds later, as though the strange abnormality had never happened. Leona chalked it up to his half-asleep state playing tricks on him, when he wasn’t quite sure what was real and what wasn’t.

But the sounds continued. Every time Leona thought that he was finally done, as a silence dragged out for long enough that he felt himself slipping into complete sleep, something would always break it. The resuming of writing on paper, or a little murmur so breathy Leona couldn’t even call it a whisper.

Finally at his wit’s end, Leona let his scarred eye open, peering through the night to catch a glimpse of the herbivore. He doubted that the prefect had moved from his position in all the time they’d spent in darkness. If he had, Leona couldn’t tell—he still was hunched over his papers, pen moving as though it were the last thing keeping the world from ending. He’d gotten through a good portion of it, at the very least. The stack at his feet that Leona assumed were the finished ones was thicker than he’d expected it would be, especially when he could hardly see in the dark as well as Leona could. Efficiency seemed to be one of his strong suits, if nothing else.

Yuu stopped as he finished the sheet he’d been working on, staring down at the ones on the ground with a dull look in the eyes that otherwise glowed like two ghostly blue stars. Leona could practically hear the gears turning in the herbivore’s head, screaming and clicking from the lack of oil rest would give them. And then he stopped, listening to his mind's pleas by joining the two stacks together before storing them back in his bag. Leona breathed a sigh.

Only for the prefect to pull out another stack of papers.

Enough was enough. “What,” Leona hissed, making Yuu jump at how a single emerald fire was aimed at him from the dark, “are you doing.”

“My homework,” he answered, too surprised to lie. It took another snarl from Leona to finally make Yuu come to his senses, albeit if he had any. “I thought you were asleep.”

“You can see just how right you are, can’t you?” Leona could hear the way Yuu’s breath hitched when he lifted his head, raising up to glare at the freshman. “Wasn’t that other stack it?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “No. That was— that wasn’t.” Yuu seemed scared. Good. It reflected in his eyes as Leona sat up further, silently demanding a better answer out of him. “They’re from the headmage,” he admitted, fidgeting with his hands under the housewarden’s smoldering gaze.

“‘Course they are.” It almost sounded like Leona wasn’t convinced, with the venom starting to seep into his voice. He was more surprised that the birdbrain would trust a job like that to a freshman with no place in the world and no magic to his name. Maybe that was exactly why, he realized, as he remembered that Crowley was the reason why the herbivore had even been investigating him in the first place.

It clicked then, what Yuu's role was in everything. Of course—he was someone unnoticeable and disposable. And Leona’s anger surprisingly changed to a new target, as he recognized just how little say the student in front of him had in anything. But no one in the room had to know about that. “Put them away,” he ordered, giving the papers such a heated look it wouldn’t be surprising if they spontaneously combusted. Yuu opened his mouth to speak, to no doubt argue with him, but Leona stopped it with another hair-raising snarl. “Now.”

Yuu gave him a look that only seemed half-annoyed, with how worry and fear was taking up the rest of his brainpower. “I’m sorry. I—”

“Stop talking.” Yuu immediately listened, closing his mouth without another word. So now he had some common sense. “Lay down ‘n sleep,” Leona told him, narrowing his eyes more for every second that passed where he didn’t. “I’m not askin’, and I’m not saying it again.”

Leona watched with eyes that didn’t miss a thing as Yuu did as he said, making sure there was no way for him to worm his way out of it again. Maybe he should start calling the herbivore the weasel instead of the pipsqueak, he thought with an almost sarcastic tone. He was small and slippery enough to be one.

Finally, the freshman seemed like he was done. So Leona laid back down again, hoping for sleep at last. “Sorry,” the herbivore mumbled, not-quite-quiet enough for Leona to miss.

His eyes opened again from where they had almost closed shut, feeling those sand dunes press down on his chest again. “Go to bed,” he answered, in a voice that was not quite as harsh as before.

The prefect shifted one more time, readjusting the blanket draped over his body for one final last noise of the evening. “Good night.”

Leona sighed, forcing himself to stop staring at the ceiling and listening to the prefect. Some sleep he was getting.

Once Yuu and his gang of freshmen disappeared from campus, Leona returned to his room instead of his regular spot in the botanical gardens. He’d been tipped off by the herbivore’s frantic studying to know that there were going to be one too many classes there for him to stomach, so he returned to his room instead, peacefully and blissfully quiet without his two extra roommates.

And yet, he did not sleep. For some strange reason, Leona dug through his possessions, without rhyme or reason, trying to remember where it was that Ruggie told him he’d stored a particular group of stuff. Of course, he’d been falling asleep, so he hardly remembered what the sophomore had said to him. At the time, Leona hadn’t cared in the slightest, but he supposed he was a little ticked off at his past self now, when he’d rummaged through enough places and thrown enough things around that he wanted to just stop and get in his afternoon nap.

Then, finally, in the last few seconds Leona had grumbled to himself he’d spend doing this, he found it, left to gather dust in a box in an unused room. Anyone without magic or muscle would have been doomed to get buried in all the discarded things, which was why Leona had held off looking in there until he was completely sure that was the only place it could be. It really was for the best that Yuu and Grim roomed with him, Leona found himself thinking, before he threw the thought out of his head.

He’d done more than enough for today, Leona decided. So he haphazardly threw it onto one of the many piles of things scattered amongst his floor and slunk back to his bed, hoping to catch a few winks before Ruggie came looking for him for lunch.

No one at this school pulled any punches, Yuu found, even for those younger and weaker than them. Any other day, under any other circumstances, she would have respected that. But now, when she was tired and cold and sore, Yuu just wanted to go back to her moth-eaten bed and let the world crumble around her.

“You’re not done yet,” Ruggie chimed, noticing how Yuu and Grim were about to fall back onto Leona’s couch and pass out, even though it was littered with mess. “We gotta clean, then you can conk out.”

Of course. Yuu sighed, grabbing Grim by the scruff to pick him up again and set him on the ground, too tired to speak. “This feels messier than last night,” she mused despite herself, knowing it was probably a little rude, but exhaustion removing her filter.

“It always seems that way when it’s your job to clean up.” Yuu hummed, grabbing any and all laundry nearby to throw in the hamper. If nothing else, she could try to be quick. Then she could get to the mountain of paperwork she still needed to do, between her homework and the papers Crowley had assigned to her.

The last few rays of sun trickled in through his balcony, and Yuu couldn’t help but pause for a second, watching the great ball of fire descend to the horizon. She only had two more days to achieve the impossible. It would have been difficult enough with a month, but with only three sunsets given to her, Yuu had half the mind to just curl into a ball and let herself give up.

But she couldn’t. Yuu wasn’t the only one standing to lose something now. It was the mess she’d told her friends she’d help them get out of, so it was her burden to bear. Yuu sighed, rolling her shoulders to hopefully shake some of the aching soreness in them from swimming the entire day, and got back to work. Leona did nothing but watch with half-lidded eyes, lazily following their movements as the two of them cleaned while Ruggie oversaw.

Once the rest of the room was devoid of things haphazardly tossed around, Yuu moved onto Leona’s desk, seeing that there was clutter still near its surroundings. She hadn’t meant to pry, but when she carefully took the blanket that was draped over the table into her hands, folding it absentmindedly, her eyes dragged across the words of the opened book below.

And then they widened. “Leona,” she called, feeling a spark of hope ignite in her for the first time in weeks, “are these your textbooks?”

His eyes had closed, and they did not reopen at her query. “What’s it matter?”

It wasn’t a yes. But it wasn’t a no, either. “Could I borrow them for tonight?” Yuu asked, glancing down at Grim when he made his way over. Hopefully he didn’t miss the silent plea she’d given him to start reading, just in case Leona suddenly got up and snatched them away.

Not that he'd do that. Or maybe he would. After last night, Yuu wasn’t really sure where his boundaries were in what did and didn’t make him mad. But the housewarden just hummed, not bothered enough to give her a proper answer. It wasn’t a no. “Thank you,” she breathed, taking them in her hands as though they were the most fragile glass and bringing them back to her makeshift bed.

“You’re still doin’ homework?” Grim exclaimed, the hint of disapproval in his voice. “We’re not even goin’ to class, minion. There’s no point.”

“We’ll still have to learn the material,” she countered, only half present in the conversation. The last of her attention on her surroundings disappeared when Ruggie snickered, echoing in her ears like the whispers of sand grains shifting against each other. Maybe tonight, she could finish her homework before such an unreasonable hour.

And Leona watched through that one hardly-opened eye, as the last of the light disappeared from inside his four walls, and yet the prefect still worked.

#first time posting fic on tumblr so fingers crossed the formatting is okay!!#this is both so much easier and so much harder than doing it on ao3 #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x mc #leona kingscholar #yuu #twst yuu #leona kingscholar x yuu #leona kingscholar x reader #three nights remain #cloudedgalaxies

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 days

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Your Mark On Me, Part 15

Summary: things are no good.

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Rating: explicit. Dead dove do not eat

Warnings: explicit language, explicit dark content, kidnapping, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of stealing money, degradation (not for sexual play), spitting, hitting, pinching, slapping, restraining, mocking, blood, human auction, forced removal of IUD, realization of voyeurism, sexual recordings without knowledge, dark imagery 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.4K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Rage. Blinding hot rage that boils every ounce of his blood. Hating himself doesn’t even cover it. Leaving you the way he did as a broken shell of the woman that he first met. You had shown resilience to his impossible needs. You had fallen so hard, and he still withheld how he truly felt for you.

The threat was enough to not just chill him all the way to the core of his being, but the video — whoever it was had caught him. Caught exactly what you meant to him on video. Words he had never spoken in years, and they had the evidence. Coupled with the threat of not only you, but Bucky’s Shy Violet. His unborn son. And Steve could not be responsible for that much pain.

Steve can barely see as he flees the hotel he left you in. A crumpled mess. A true depiction of the barren wasteland he left your heart. People don’t love as deeply as you did, and have someone rip it out with scars that may never heal. He’s an example of that. And he did it to the only person who he had ever truly been in love with.

He meant every word to you this morning, even the ones you would never hear. Why did this person, this entity hate him so much that he would threaten three people that had no part in this scheme? He had to tell Bucky. He also had to be able to visually see, and he can’t put anything into words except the red hot coils of desire to burn down the world.

Questioning if what he did was the right answer. He was told they knew his weakness, and you would be removed from his life. He beat them to it. He took away the person that they knew was his the one that would destroy him. But who? Who hated him that much to want to destroy him? Clearly it was competition but there was only one person, or people that were competitive with Steve.

“Sam?” The other man sighs. Hearing Steve's voice as wrecked as it was didn’t take much to realize what the idiot had done. “Who’s watching her?”

“You put Loki outside. Told him to watch her for a few weeks. Said that you figured she would move on. But you’re a fucking idiot.”

“They,” he yanks the steering wheel to the side of the road, throwing his car into park before pressing his palms into his eyes, and wills the tears to not spill over his lashes, “They were going to kill her and Bucky’s Shy, and…your family.”

“Figured as much. I told Nat to get the kids to the safe house. Just like you should have done with Dove. With her and Bucky there everyone would have been safe. You’re too fucking irrational. You don’t think. You should have discussed with me, and we could have came up with a plan. But you didn’t like that I heard what you said,” Steve pulls at wads of his hair, and he slams his fist on the steering wheel. “Love doesn’t make you weak.”

“I told you that you didn’t hear anything,” still in this world of denial and wanting to protect his ego. His pride? Protect anything but the person he truly cared about. You.

“You love her. You’re a coward that couldn’t even tell her to her fucking face. Is a million dollars really going to make up for what you did? You’re the problem here, Steve. She was the solution. Go back. Go get her, and I’ll take her to the safe house. I’ll leave Nat and Bucky with the kids, and Shy, and we will figure out what the fuck is going on,” Steve shakes his head. You hated him. He made sure to make you feel worthless to him, and hope that one day you could move on.

The thought of another man touching your flesh sears into his mind. Thinking this dumbass could ever hold you and love you the way he did. It was a toxic love, but he found serenity in your bright glow. The devil came to find his goddess of spring. The link that kept his underground hell blooming into the most beautiful chaotic garden.

Every morning he could see the sun shining on your face like you were the beacon, and it was trying to find you. But instead, Steve did. He tried to dim every bit of your light, and instead you changed him. And how did he repay you? He left you, his beautiful goddess, a void. Gave you every opportunity to turn into the darkness that he helped flourish. Instead, you were making him lighter.

You had a link to the depravity of his world that was Lark, and one wrong move and you would become a demon to addiction. A beautiful woman lively turned into a servant for drugs and the underbelly that he helped create. Try and be noble all he wants, he still sold a lie to users. He catered to the whims of one of the most powerful things in the world. Addiction.

“Sam,” he says as he starts to turn the car around. “I made a mistake.”

“Get your girl. I’m calling Bucky. We’ll keep her safe, and we finish this once and for all. It’s time,” without hesitation and very little thought Steve knows exactly where the threat came from. Peggy. The one who set this all off to begin with. No doubt a woman who thought she had broken Steve would be infuriated that he had managed to actually fall this time. The purest form of love. Childlike. He was in fact so in love with you it hurt him.

Pained every inch of his inky skin. He was only trying to let his Dove out of her cage, and let her fly alone. He was no longer the cage that kept you trapped. He was made pure again, and was a dove right along with you. He wasn’t meant to set you free, he was meant to fly out of his own cage with you.

He fucked up. He knows you may never forgive him for this whiplash, but if it meant that you were going to keep your life, that was the burden he would have to bear. He would carry the weight of that on his back for the rest of eternity as long as he knew you were alive and well. He had to. Because he was in love.

You don’t cry. You barely blink. Couldn’t even move to clean yourself off as per his request. That towel lays haphazardly on his spilt cum, and you stare up at the ceiling trying to make this a nightmare. He was a liar. That wasn’t Steve, and as much as you wanted to cut etches of his story off his skin, you wanted him to hold you even more.

It is a bizarre feeling to hate and need the same person. Time has no meaning on this bed. Earlier today you saw him for the man he used to be before Peggy tried to destroy him. And then he burned that man at the stake as he became the monster you first met. The lord of the underworld, and he brought you down into his depths, but maybe it was all one sided.

Watching as the room spins around you in a humiliating and dizzying haze. It’s why he couldn’t look at you. He has fought and fought his true feelings, and because he couldn’t accept them he had to remove the seed that was sprouting in his heart. The seed that was changing winter into spring and you saw lightness and color that once resided inside of his soul.

You hate him. And still, you’re in love with him, and you need him to hold you and tell you that wasn’t him. That he was sorry, and he was so in love with you and he was done fighting, and you doubt that moment will ever come. If you could close your eyes and never wake up that would be the most fitting. You didn’t want to see anything anymore.

“Dove?” Your eyes stare blankly up at the ceiling, and you swear there’s a pattern to the odd appearance of it. Dots that you feel are just the stars, and they’re covering you in a warm blanket. As warm as the fuzz that is thrown over your body.

“Sissy, how much money did he leave you?” Your blinks start to slow down, and you hope that they’ll eventually close forever so you don’t have this sickening feeling in your stomach. “I’m going to take this and invest in — things, yeah. You don’t need it. You’ve got your school you can bounce back on, okay?”

If there is one thing you wished it was that Steve could have quit fighting the inevitable. That he would have just admitted the feelings he had for you, and the two of you could run away. Money and power are just as dark of an addiction as the drugs he sold. And he was letting his addiction win.

“Won’t you let me get you dressed. You don’t want to leave here naked. And — he didn’t love you. That mess on your stomach is how he treats the girls he threw away at the club. Used their warm flesh to fill a need, and then…”

“You’re lying,” your eyes finally focus on your sister, and you turn and look away from her quickly. She no longer was the vibrant older sister you once knew. Either Steve had been lying about your addiction and usage, or she had found another supplier. “What happened to you?”

“You should look in the mirror,” you didn’t want to look at your face. You’d look like a bird with clipped wings that could no longer fly because that’s just what you feel like. “Get dressed.”

“What are you doing with the money?” You inquire. But she doesn’t respond just goes towards your bag, and opens up one. Tossing over a dress, and you finally take stock of what’s going on. Sitting up in the bed so see her clinging to the bag with cash in it. The stupor you were once in now is a dull pain of the past hour. “Lark?”

The door opens up to your room, and scramble to cover yourself. You know him. “Dovey, it’s time for you to go. He’s been waiting on you,” tears flood out your eyes as you shake your head. “You really want him to see you with Steve’s cum on your stomach. Your pussy fucked out, and tits hanging out? Now,” he clicks his tongue, snapping a finger at Lark, and your sister scurries out of the hotel room.

“It’s just you and me,” grabbing at your foot, he pulls you down to him and you kick and scream. Biting every time his hands touch you. Your reason to fight became apparent because whatever is wrong is worse than the empty gut you have now. “He threw you away!”

“Fuck you!”

“Keep fighting me, and it’s you that’s going to be fucked,” clearing his throat your room is flooded with men, and they all close in on you, struggling to hold on to your body before with one snap, you go into blackness. A darker world than you have ever ventured to. A world where things will never be the same. Left and broken, now stolen and restored. Fight is still there.

Steve sprints to your bedroom, racing through every part of it. Knowing without seeing physically that you’re gone. His hands pick up and throw everything in its path. Destroying the room just like he destroyed you. The luggage with clothes is still here, but the suitcase with money was gone.

Lifting up the mattress he flips it over, standing in the fucking room that was devoid of you. You were gone, and he can’t shake the feeling that you were taken. Stolen from this room, and from — he can’t even say himself anymore. Because he left you. You weren’t his to steal. He fucked up.

Chest heaving as his mind races on where you could be. He has an idea of who took you and it sickens him. He sees what Lark has become. Rumlow was the worst kind of drug dealer, because he dealt in more than just drugs, he dealt in women.

“Steve.”

“I fucked up,” he turns around. Eyes pleading at Bucky. “Why are you here?”

“Sam’s with the girls. I’m risking my life and the chance to see my future son because I can’t imagine what you’re going through. You fucked up, but I can’t let you wonder your what ifs or wonder where she is. I can’t let you lose the love of your life,” Steve shakes his head, the anger turning into the worst pain he’s ever felt in his life. As the last of his humanity is wrenched from his fingers. “Why can’t you say it? Does she mean that little to you?”

“She means more than any amount fucking words, Bucky. She means everything. Shy and Ember were threatened. Nat and the girls, and a lot don’t even know that Sam and Nat are together and have kids. Why do they want her?”

“They’re trying to make your kingdom crumble. The dark lord of the seedy underbelly. Ruled by fear and power. For a drug lord you had some morals, if that’s what you want to call it. And there’s…”

“Peggy,” Steve gulps, glancing around the room that is as messy as his head. Disheveled in every crevice. He has to clear his mind if he’s ever going to find you.

“I want you to make me a promise,” Steve nods. Taking a few deep breaths to center himself. It ends now. He won’t hold back. It’s time to burn the world down to save you. Rumlow’s entire organization will disintegrate. He doesn’t even care where the two of you end up. He needs to know you’re alive, and living the life you want. And he hopes you still can find a place to put him in it.

“If we find Dove, I need you to tell her exactly how you feel, you coward. Quit waiting until the girl falls asleep before you say it.”

“Deal.”

“Let’s go save a dove.”

You could look at Steve trying to destroy you as a good thing. There’s a numbness that courses through your veins, or maybe it’s just a sleepy fog since the moment he walked out that door. Staring at the sleeping form of the man that tattooed you while your arms are restrained above your head, you wonder how you slipped this far into this world of darkness. Your will to fight dormant and resting. Now you observe. Paying attention to everything while you remember every bit of this moment. Something eventually had to help.

You don’t hate Steve. In fact the reason he did what he did seems to be to avoid this bullshit right here. Protecting you from whatever this hell is, but he failed. He let the wrong one watch you. And your own sister somehow played a part. You’d cuss him for the fool that he is when he comes to rescue you. And then allow your exhaustion and anger to rain down him with a fury that is hibernating.

Your eyes start to droop a bit. The adrenaline and heart shattering moments hitting a climax so high that your body is spent. There is no time for fear, and no time for anger. It’s survival. Steve would find you, and you would kick him in his perfect balls for ever hurting you. Even though the idea of him throwing that door open to save you like a scarred Prince Charming was looking damn fine, you can’t ignore what he did.

“How long has it been?” A sickeningly sweet voice walks into the room, and her beady eyes look you up and down. “What is she wearing?”

“Whatever I could put on her. You said you didn’t want Rumlow to see her the way I found her. You’re still so concerned with him leaving you for someone else?” His head bounces to the side with the force of the smack she connects to his face. “Why else do you need her covered?”

“I don’t need to see what cunt Steve’s been shagging. Pretending that she was the only one while he was fucking Rumlow’s whores at the club,” you roll your eyes, but refuse to comment. Sam kept tabs on Steve, and even told you he’s never seen him so much as glance at another woman. Her tactics of wearing you down were futile. You couldn’t sink any lower. The bottom has already been reached and all in a few short hours.

“You’ve been fucking like rabbits, and he still hasn’t fucked a baby in you?” You spit on her, gaining a slap against your own cheek. Her red painted nail wipes of your saliva from her face before she embarrassingly rubs it on your face.

“That’s rich coming from a double crossing bitch. You can only smack me when I can’t fight back?”

“You’re a bitchy one, aren’t ya? So tell me, sweet princess, how have you remained without a bastard?”

“It’s called birth control, you idiot.”

“One I need to cut out of your arm? Or rip it out from between your legs? Or do you trust the pill?” What the fuck was this woman getting off on? You aren’t even sure what her fucking problem was, or why it concerned you so much. “Rumlow has suffered with his business, while Steve flourishes. He needs to be destroyed, but I much prefer slow torture,” her fingernails connect to your arm, and she uses far too much pressure to slide all over the delicate skin of your arms before her eyes zone in on your lower body.

”Remove it.”

“What the fuck? No!”

“Stick another fucking needle in her neck and remove it,” she is psychotic. More than Steve could have ever realized. “You know your pretty sister? Yeah, it was easy to break her spirit. It’s funny what money and drugs can get people to do. What would destroy Steve? To see you broken from another human. To see you as a ghost of who you were. A zombie that he can’t even recognize. You know how many people are willing to bid for Steve’s precious Dove? Use your body to work out their frustrations on their biggest competition. Your sister sold you out for money and drugs, but the good thing is she is no longer being pimped out. But you — Steve will never want you again. Remove it. She can be someone else’s problem.”

Her stilettos click out of your room, and Loki stands up to walk closer to you. You flail, screaming out obscenities and no towards him. Having very little room to get any leverage over him. They were all fucking mental. “No! Don’t touch me.”

”It’ll only sting for a minute. You keep getting stuck with this, you’re going to have a bigger problem,” his voice is cloying in your ear as he grabs your face. Coming closer to you with a needle before it drives into your body.

“No! No! Please, no!” Another wave of blackness. Falling into an oblivion of a dark void that has no end in sight. Whispering out, “No,” one more time, and crying because no one can hear you. Being stripped away from the only salvation you knew, and now becoming the exact opposite of what Steve desired the most in you. Untouched. She wanted to sell you, auction you off while Steve can either be searching for you, or pretending you never existed.

You just want to go home. Home to the cabin, and pretend that he was coming home to you. Hold onto happy moments while your humanity is ripped from you. You hate her.

Your head lulls back on your shoulders, and the dingy light of the room tries to filter through the darkness, and you try to grasp it. Hoping that light can save your soul from the monster Peggy was forcing you to become. You hate her.

He didn’t like it. He hated it. Hated that you were ever put in this position, and he had himself more to blame than anyone. The very thought of something going wrong just wasn’t an option. He didn’t need anything to go wrong. He needed you. He needs to know that you are okay, and you were free to live a life.

The thoughts of you choosing a life that didn’t include him was on his mind, but he couldn’t think of that. Everything had to be perfectly planned out. He knew that Peggy was a vindictive bitch, while Rumlow was a pathetic one. He assumes that they’re hoping for an appearance by him.

It wasn’t a secret what they were doing. Everyone knew they were putting you up for auction. The reception went from an absolutely no because they knew Steve’s vengeance would be grisly to the ones that were drooling and licking their jowls at a chance to fuck Steve over. But retaliation would happen. To all of them. There would be a retribution on every single person that participates in the selling of you.

Every last one of them will get the fiery death of his dreams, and if you wanted to facilitate he would let you watch as they all burn. He failed in the one thing he promised above all else and that was to protect you. He’d make it up. He would get you. Or he would watch it all burn.

—

There’s moments in your life where you freeze up. Your body goes into autopilot, and you’re just there. Going through the motions. While your body is numb to every poke, prod, and movement by someone else. Your mind is on high alert. Listening to every door open. Absorbing every conversation. Your eyes take stock of all that is around you. Memorize every face as you dream about their demise.

You knew there would come a time when you had to identify people because you still hadn’t given up hope that Steve would keep his promise. Rumlow was a boastful idiot and he was letting everyone know who he was going to have up on that stage. Steve would hear about it, and you didn’t doubt that he would have fun in taking care of everything.

That’s not to say that you didn’t want to add another scar on Steve’s body, and you wanted to scratch him, and maul his perfect face, but you need him to wrap those stupid beefy arms around you and carry you out of this disgusting place. You know if you allow your mind to go into the dark places that you would lose all hope, and you’d never stop crying. Or worse become the devil Peggy was trying to make you.

You didn’t even speak to them when they’d ask you questions. You’d just stare at them blankly as they pinched, slapped, and pushed you around. You wouldn’t allow yourself to let them break you. Not yet. When this is all over you could have those moments of clarity, but right now it’s just to survive. And that meant focusing on everything.

You even knew it took Loki exactly thirty-four steps to get to the chair that set outside of your cage. And another forty-two steps to get to the door. You knew that he was the biggest coward of all, and needed to hide behind a more powerful man. Scheming and lying through his teeth while he collects secrets and information as his own form of currency.

He was loathsome. Peggy was the worst bitch you had ever met in your life. A woman who didn’t want Steve, and also couldn’t bare to see him happy with another woman. The kind of woman whose ego got in the way of the bigger picture. While Rumlow was describable he had bigger reasons for doing this. Peggy’s reasons didn’t go past needing to make Steve feel emasculated.

Disgusting woman, all dolled up for a pretty picture. Steve wasn’t a hero, but he could admit it. She wants to act like there was a moral high ground that she was part of, and still involved with another drug lord. That man just didn’t ask questions. You’d come to learn that Steve did, and that’s why Peggy had to ruin him.

“Are you still sore?” It is a stupid question when your arms were always extended above your head, the fact that she made people remove something so personal from you. Sore didn’t even begin to describe it. “You still mad at me, princess? And if you fucking spit on me again…”

You roll your eyes up to meet her, a sinister smile tugging at your mouth. “Ghastly woman. It’s what you deserve. You can pay for Steve’s sins. They always do,” another one of her tactics is to make you think you were nothing but a fleshlight to Steve. But you knew better. “Do you know how many girls that he has made become a sex worker? Rumor has it he filmed porn right in the club.”

Blah blah blah. You did actually talk to Steve. You also listened. It’s something she didn’t do well. Cocky little bitches never wanted to be the quiet little girls that people think aren’t threatening. Like you. She sees a weak submissive bird. You weren’t weak, and you weren’t dumb. You had more knowledge than she could even fathom about the ongoings of Steve’s enterprise. And there’s one thing she forgets, those sex workers Steve employed had a choice. She had removed yours.

“Are you going to play your game of not talking again?” Smirking, you roll your eyes before concentrating on her shoes. You weren’t going to give her the respect to look her in her face. “You’re such a spoiled child. Did your daddy Steve not spank you enough?”

“Nope,” Steve was not your daddy. He was your Captain.

“You do speak,” god, she’s a pompous twat. If she was closer you would spit on her, just for telling you not to.

“I don’t make it habit of talking to trollops,” with a painted red nail, she slaps you across the face, and your mouth fills with the pungent taste of metal. You gather it in your mouth, waiting. She is already getting closer to you.

“You fucking bitch. I will enjoy seeing you sold, and I will revel in the ways that they use your body to fuck over Steve. And that man never cared for you. You were just warm wet flesh,” one step too close to you, and you let her feel the blood she brought with her slap. The red paints her neck such a brilliant color and you chuckle, “You were just a whore to him. Let him fuck you raw. Intimately. Wanna see?”

Spinning on her heels, she snaps a finger at Loki, “I want Steve fucking her stupid on a loop. Let her watch every moment that was ever a lie. Break her fucking spirit, so she knows Steve never loved her. He couldn’t. Because he loved me, and will always look for a replacement. But there's only one me,” if only she knew that the love that Steve felt for her was nothing compared to how he felt about you. You knew it. He told you.

The sound of his voice stings as the monitor is lit up with the two of you. Precious moments stolen, and there is no telling how many people had seen this. You keep your eyes on Steve, more than you ever did while he was pumping into you. Steve never said the words, but he also couldn’t act. The way he stares at you with so much passion and love, versus the anger he had when he broke up with you. Such a lying coward.

You sniffle, refusing to let any tears cloud your vision or run down your face. You were becoming immune to the physical pain, but seeing a private beautiful moment with Steve hurts so deeply. Even the way he paints your skin with his fingers after making love. Yeah, Steve fucked you and would fuck you hard, but what you just witnessed was sweet. Almost like the first time.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Loki staring at you, and you twist your head to gaze back quickly, causing him to flinch. “When you came to our home…”

“It was just a place for him to hide you and fuck you. Don’t make it seem so domestic.”

“Was this your plan all along? Fuck Steve over?” He shrugs his shoulders, moving to turn back around after making a face with Steve’s grunts on the television. “He’ll enjoy torturing you.”

“You think very highly of yourself. Where were you at when I found you? Broken, naked, and used on a bed. Let’s not forget the money your sister stole from you. What do you think she’s going to do with that much money? Face it, Dovey, everyone around you used you and then left you. Steve for your tight cunt, and your sister for money. You’re better off this way.”

“Don’t call me that,” you wouldn’t let him win. Lark’s involvement is the most painful. Your therapist long ago told you drugs changed people. But inside of that body was still your sister. Somewhere.

“Don’t cry, Dove,” he mocks you as a single tear falls from your face. There’s no sincerity in his voice. And you want him to suffer from your own hands. “I finally know what it sounds like,” and you can’t wait to hear him plead for his pathetic life. His time will come.

You gulp as someone pulls on your leash. Fitted with a dog collar, and lingerie. You stare out blankly at the crowd as words about who you are and what the bidding starts off as begins. Faceless people litter a small crowd, and raised paddles keep being held up.

You try and focus on all their faces, see who is bidding the highest, and it is a zoo. Going so fast it makes you dizzy, and you sway on your heels. The price goes too high for average schmucks, and it seems it is a war between two people.

Both the man and woman are masked, and gloved, and neither have Steve’s features. You feel yourself for the first time slipping into despair. Feeling he didn’t actually care at all, and this is the result. Being sold like cattle.

“Two million,” the man say with finality, and the woman shakes her hand, refusing to pay that much. He left you. You really were worthless to him. Played in his stupid games.

“Sold to Mr. Wolf. Come collect your new pet,” the masked man stands up without a word. Pulling the leash from your handler before scooping up in his arms. Vacant. There’s nothing left. Steve left you to rot.

“I’ve got her,” he says into your ear, and it’s a weird sensation, causing goose pimples to arise on your skin. You didn’t have any idea why he was talking to you. You just need to forget the life you once came from.

The harsh light of the outside stings your eyes, and you start to regress in your body. The fight is finally over, and you just are in disbelief. “We’re out of the building. Clint, lock it down. Steve, I’m taking her to the safe house.”

“Steve?” Your body starts to tremble as the tears you have held in for far too long pours out.

“Shh, Dovey. I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’re going someplace safe, but Steve and a few others are burning this down. “Do you know if Peggy was in there?”

“She was bidding,” your words are whispered and confused, using a hand to squeeze on his metal arm, “Bucky?”

“I’ve got you. I gotta get you away,” he places you into the car, buckling you up before he gets in the seat himself. “We’re outta here. Send them right back to hell. Dove, were there any other girls up for auction?” You shake your head no, starting to curl into a ball. Your arms are still so stiff and sore. “She was all. You’ve got free range, Steve.”

Steve’s mouth curls into a gruesome grin. Eyes blazing as he heads towards the building, “Peggy is mine. Fucking bitch.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @annaallicce @feyfantome @jesevans @tittittoee @bananapiedreams @onclouds999 @darkserenity24 @abbatoirablaze @ashychangeling @identity2212 @mrsevans90 @weirdothatwritess @floralwsloki @thestralwriting @ambearsstuff @kandis-mom @hoodiesandicedcoffee @awhoreformoree @nyxbellabarnes @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @rogersbarber

#your mark on me #dark fic #dark!fic #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fics #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #drug lord au

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harrysbelovedd · 2 days

Text

the day that i met you… [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - when sarah ditches reader last minute before their concert, rafe is reader’s new concert date.

warnings - swearing, fluff, slightly protective!rafe, established relationship

“When’s she picking you up again?” Rafe asked, glancing at his watch for the third time as you both waited on the couch for his sister.

“She said she’d be here thirty minutes ago, I texted her like three times,” I huffed out, slightly annoyed.

Sarah and I were supposed to go to a concert today, a Faye Webster concert on the mainland. We bought tickets together months ago and I was so excited about it. I’ve been ready for nearly an hour and she’s late.

Rafe sensed my annoyance, which only caused him to get angry toward his sister. “What’s her problem? Who the fuck does she think she is, ditching you like this?” Rafe mutters, standing up from the couch and pulling out his phone. “I’m calling her.”

He stands by the window looking into the yard with one hand on his hip, the other holding the phone to his ear.

“Sarah! Where the fuck are you, Y/n’s waiting.”

“What? You’re not fucking serious.”

“Stop ditching your best friend, fucking bitch—“

“Okay! Okay!” I rush over, pulling the phone from his ear as he hangs up.

“She’s hanging out with her fucking pogues, baby! Treating you like shit, and I don’t appreciate it.”

I set his phone down on the table nearby, placing my hands on his shoulders as I sigh. “Because she’s in love with John B.”

“Okay and?!” He huffs.

“I did the same thing to my friends for a while when I started falling in love with you, Rafe.” I reason with a giggle. “She’ll learn to split her time up later. She just wants to spend all her time with him right now.”

He rolls his eyes, “Well yeah, I’m a way better boyfriend than any pogue why wouldn’t you want to be with me all the time?”

I grin, patting his cheek lightly. “It’s okay, I have the tickets anyway. This just means you’re coming with me,” I shrug.

He stands still by the window as I walk toward the front door, picking up the keys to his truck in the foyer. “Let’s go, babe!” I shout.

I hear him shuffle over to the front door, whining slightly. “How long does this go on?”

“Till like 11,” I smile softly, placing a kiss on his cheek as I slip the keys into his palm.

“You’re so lucky I love you,” he replies, his hand giving my ass a playful slap as I giggle and follow him out to his truck.

“Trust me, you’ll have fun! I’ll play her music in the car so you can get a feel.” I tell him as he opens my door for me.

As we drive to the venue, Rafe’s hand finds its home on my thigh and I play Faye Webster along our drive. When I ask him what he thinks of the music, he just shrugs, saying it’s “whatever.” But when I look over when he’s not looking, he’s swaying his head to the gentle, jazzy, r&b rhythms.

“We’re here, baby,” Rafe whispers softly against my shoulder. My eyes flutter open, seeing the line slowly being let into the venue.

I clap my hands together, “Come on! We have to hurry so we can try and squeeze to the front!” I urge him as I jump out of the truck.

“Hey!” He shouts, rounding the truck to the passenger side. “You didn’t even let me open the door for you, settle down, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re in the front.” He assures, slinging his arm over my shoulder.

We get in line and I scan our tickets and the second we’re in, I grab Rafe’s hand and drag him to run. We’re able to slide through the crowd as everyone had only began to gather toward the front and secure a spot in the second row.

Rafe stands behind me, towering over me, sliding his arms around my waist with my back to his chest. “Can you see, pretty girl?”

“Yeah!” I tilt my head up, looking at him. “Thanks for coming with me.”

He smiles, “Of course. I was secretly hoping Sarah wouldn’t show so I could spend time with you.” He confesses.

I grin, turning back to face the stage and rubbing my hands along his forearms around my waist. As we wait for the show to start, I ask Rafe to go get merch and drinks for us while I hold our spots.

He comes back with the sweatshirt and shirt I liked—since I couldn’t pick, a beer for him, and shirley temple for me.

“Thanks,” I smile, reaching up to place a kiss on the corner of his lips.

Finally after what feels like hours, the lights dim and Faye’s intro begins.

I want to sleep in your arms, but not kiss.

She sings, I scream and cheer, Rafe recording the show for me on my phone so I can enjoy the moment.

As the setlist goes on, Rafe sways me side to side, me singing lyrics at him, a smile permanently etched on his lips the whole night.

As her last song approaches, she stands at her keyboard, playing the starting keys of Kingston.

I look up at Rafe and whisper, “This one is the one that reminds me of you. You know this one!”

He smiles, “Mhm. It’s my favorite.”

I turn around now, facing him instead of the stage. My arms sling around his neck, as his hands stay on my waist, his thumbs rubbing circles into my sides.

“The day that I met you I started dreaming..” we sing together, grinning widely.

We go to sing the next line, but the music abruptly stops, Faye telling her band to hold on. I turn around to see what’s wrong and see her looking directly at Rafe and I, smiling.

“You guys are so cute,” she says into the mic. “That’s what this song is about, y’know. A love like that. Cheesy as hell but, I love it!” She smiles, pointing at us. Everyone in the crowd turns to look at us and Rafe’s cheeks go red at all the staring eyes.

My hand comes up to his cheek as his chin rests on my head, I wave at Faye, blowing a kiss at her.

She laughs, “What’re your guys names?”

“Y/n and Rafe!” I shout.

She grins, “Alright, this one’s for Y/n and Rafe.”

The music starts over, Rafe and I swaying together and as the crowds eyes move back to Faye, Rafe stands up straight again.

As the song continues, Rafe and I sing together, grinning like idiots. He swears he was just lip syncing but, I heard him singing.

Baby, tell me where you wanna go

Baby, tell me what you wanna know

Give you everything I have and more

#obx fic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fluff #rafe obx #rafe cameron blurb #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #outer banks #outerbanks rafe #drew starkey #rafe cameron smut #rafe imagine #Spotify

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heyclickadee · 2 days

Text

I understand that people are going to cope how they are going to cope, and trying to find meaning in the handling of Tech in season three is part of that, but it’s also okay to criticize the show.

I like a good character death. Tech’s departure was not that. My issue is not that he’s presumed dead, my issue is that it and the handling of it is nonsense. So (I once again get very negative about my favorite show under the cut):

1. When you kill off a main character, you really have to kill them off. How you do so can vary from story to story, but you really have to do four things:

One, you need a good reason to kill them off in the first place. (“Stakes” is not a good reason. A secondary character, sure, but not a main one. More on that in a minute.)

Two, you need to make it perfectly clear that the character is, in fact, dead.

Three, you need to show the other characters processing and accepting that death. This is important because doing so will allow the audience to do the same and let the character go. This is especially important if you’re writing for a young audience.

Four, you need to make it explicitly clear that the character cannot come back. This is especially true in sci fi or fantasy. Especially if you’re the Character Resurrection franchise.

And guess what the show didn’t do?

Any of that. Any of it. What it did instead was ambiguously remove Tech from the story (uniquely in a show that loves making us watch characters die on screen; last time we saw Tech for sure he was alive), never gave a good reason for doing so in or out of the show, never showed us any character working through the impact of his loss (even though there was ample opportunity for Omega, especially, to do so), and ripped the “could he come back?” box wide open by parading CX-2 in front of our faces. It is never, at any point, handled like an actual main character death. It’s handled as a plot point from which the narrative moves fairly quickly, and treated by all parties as an absence. By all the rules of storytelling, Tech isn’t dead. He’s just ambiguously gone. And that means the writing team did a terrible job if what they wanted to do was kill him off. We should not be debating this after the show has ended if he’s actually dead.

2. I understand why some fans are trying to find meaning in losing Tech. I am not, because that meaning is not offered by the text itself. And, if the plan was to never bring him back, it should have been.

We are not, for example, offered a lesson about how not everyone comes home from the war. In order for that to have been the case, we would have needed to see someone, probably Omega, working through that. We would have needed to see her refusing to accept that Tech is gone—like we do in Plan 99, by the way—and slowly coming to terms with the idea that her brother isn’t coming home. But we don’t get that, not even as subtext.

Something else we could have gotten that would have worked with all the little visual reminders of Tech, empty chairs, name-drops, and even the CX-2 leading? The batch being so haunted by losing Tech and not really knowing what happened to him for sure that they start seeing him everywhere. But for that to work we would have needed, again, to see that as an explicit subplot where someone, probably Omega, again, gets really invested in the signs that Tech is coming back and even starts assuming that CX-2 is him, only to realize that she’s seeing what she wants to see and having to accept that Tech isn’t coming back, but that she can still keep Tech’s memory alive by following in his footsteps. That’s something you can kind of project onto what we’re given in the epilogue, but you do have to project it, because it’s entirely absent from the rest of the show.

As is, Tech’s sacrifice isn’t given any weight. From a narrative perspective, it was an incredibly contrived set of circumstances that accomplished nothing except punting Tech off a train, and gave Tech no choice but to remove himself from the story—exit, stage down. Losing Tech doesn’t, even sub-textually, serve as anyone’s motivation. It does nothing to move the plot or anyone’s character development forward. The primary motivators of season three were Omega’s kidnapping, Crosshair’s PTSD, and Hemlock needing to get Omega back.

Tech’s absence does nothing to move anything forward and only really serves to slow the plot down and make the others struggle to do anything because he’s not there to carry the team like he did in the first two seasons—and nothing about that would have played out any differently if Tech spent the season in a coma in a bacta tank. The only part of Tech’s sacrifice that has meaning is that he loved his family enough to offer it. And that is profound, but that’s not something that would be negated by a return because the love and the offer remain. As for his presumed death? His return couldn’t have taken meaning away from that, because the show never gave it any meaning in the first place.

And no, Tech “dying” isn’t something I have to accept. Tech isn’t a real person, he’s an idea, and an idea that didn’t come to fruition. I can point out the ways the handling of his departure didn’t work all day if I want.

3. CX-Tech was not an overly online theory. I need people to understand this. It was an assumption made by most of the casual audience. My sister, who has no contact with the fandom and doesn’t like me discussing the show at all until she’s seen it, assumed he was Tech. My brother-in-law, who was a die-hard Tech-has-to-be-dead-shut-up guy for the entire hiatus and the first half of season three, was convinced he was Tech. Every kid I’ve spoken to who watched the show thought he was Tech and is deeply confused that he got speared like that. My brother, who doesn’t even watch the show but who does walk by when I’m watching it sometimes, thought he was Tech. You can’t get more casual and away from the fandom than that.

The thing is, the answer we get isn’t that he’s not Tech. It’s, “We’re not telling.” Which means that as it currently stands, a season-and-a-half of CX buildup amounted to a five minute boss fight and a non-answer. That’s…not something that works! That’s atrocious writing if that was the whole sum of their intent all along.

And you can say, well, that was a clever misdirect! Plot twist! Except, one, misdirects and twists only work if the real answer is more satisfying than the false one, otherwise it just falls flat. Two, if it was a misdirect, it’s not one the creative team is willing to own. No one will touch the Tech-CX-2 parallels with a twenty-foot pole, except the Kiners, who have incredibly meaningful explanations for every musical choice but then say shit like, “that chord just sounds good in brass” about Battle of the Snipers (…before going on to say that the four note lose motif from “Plan 99” is Tech’s leitmotif…which is also all over Battle of the Snipers…and is only there according because the batch is divided in that scene, a scene in which Crosshair’s leitmotif is entirely absent even though he’s just supposed to be fighting his own dark side represented by a guy who’s totally not Tech. Sure. I’m going to go eat drywall.) Because acknowledging that and saying that was supposed to be Tech will just make the audience angrier, and they may not even be allowed to do so, and saying that it is Tech—you can understand why they can’t do that, right? The implications are horrific. But that horrific implication is probably what at least some of the casual audience who will never interact with the fandom or a single interview is going to walk away with.

4. The thing that bothers me most about all of this is the combined toxicity of the fandom and the leading from the marketing and social media. Part of the fandom saying that there were never any signs Tech could have survived (in Star Wars, no less) is starting to feel like gaslighting; and while I don’t think there was any malice in the leading in the marketing and social media—I’m even willing to give a tiny bit of leeway for the creative team maybe knowing something we don’t yet—it was handled badly, expectations for this season should have been set early and clearly, and as of right now it all feels like an incredibly cruel prank at autistic fans expense, whatever the intent may have been or may still be.

5. And finally, here’s the thing: I’m willing to give the writers a bit of leeway on this. I’m willing to grant that some choices may have been out of their hands for unknown reasons. I’m even willing to say that maybe they’re not really done with this story yet, that The Bad Batch could just be the first chapter of a longer show that was split up for stupid business reasons, and that the finale is the way it is because they had to have an ending of sorts without actually resolving anything. I’m willing to grant a lot of grace there. In fact, I actually think there’s a very good chance we’ll still get Tech back alive in canon, and sooner than later, if only because no one (not even the voice actors) seems happy about this, most fans are coping but disappointed at best, the creative team got asked about Tech non-stop for a solid year and a half, and the writers don’t seem at all committed. We know from the rest of the show that they know how to definitively kill a guy, and, frankly, Tech in the first two seasons comes across as something of a writer favorite. They like using him!

But whatever I’m hoping or suspecting, and whatever leeway I’m willing to grant the creative team here, the final product is all we have right now. And I am going to criticize that final product for badly handling a (presumed) character death and straight up breaking the central conceit of the show in doing so.

#the bad batch #one thing I will say #is that if I knew for sure #that ‘the cavalry has arrived’ was simply a midpoint #not really a series finale in the writers’ heads but just a season finale #and that this story was going to continue but now with more focus on Rex and Echo #with Tech as the bridge between the two series #I would not be nearly as harsh about the finale as I am #it doesn’t resolve anything it simply stops #because it had to end

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 22 hours

Text

Crushed 19

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: it's hump day, let's get humped.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

Jonathan doesn’t drive you back to your building. Instead, you walk with him through the halls to his condo. You stop outside the door as he slips the bags up to his wrist and unlocks the door. He holds it open and waves you inside.

You enter, rubbing your arm nervously. It’s been a long day. A long few days. You’re exhausted. You catch a yawn in your hand as you hug yourself with one arm and peer around.

“I’ll have to go into the office tomorrow. Can’t be avoided much longer,” he explains as he puts the bags on the side table, “you will stay here. To be safe.”

“Oh, uh, right,” you sway back and forth as you press your palm to the side of your neck, “um, I don’t mind--”

“I mind,” he interjects, “I can’t trust that animal not to act as what he is. Darling, you must think, yes? Learn from your mistakes. We both know he’s dangerous. I wouldn’t put you in such danger and I would hope you wouldn’t walk right into it.”

“I know, I wasn’t... I just... I wouldn’t want to impose,” your eyes drift away meekly, “that’s all.”

“Impose? Have I not made my feelings clear?” He approaches you, brushing his knuckles up your arm, “I cannot get enough of you, fawn.”

You smile but it’s hard. You feel weak. The day is only half done and you could keel over. He brings his hand up to cradle your cheek, “what is it?”

“Just tired,” you shrug.

“Mmm, how about... I’ll run you a nice hot bath. You can relax. We’ve done rather much today... you have been through even more,” he gives a doleful look, “you let me worry for everything. All will turn out, I’m certain.”

“I guess,” you purse your lips. It’s easy enough for him to say. He still has a job, you’re not so sure you do.

“Darling,” he brings a bent finger under your chin, tiling your head, “I will take care of you.”

Your lips part but you quickly close them. You don’t want to argue right now. You don’t want to point out that everything is still fresh and new. Or that he might not feel the same in a month or two. Or a year. Especially if you’re unemployed.

One day he’ll see how worthless you are.

“So let’s get that bath going,” he bends to kiss your forehead, “I’ve some bath salts which may help ease the tension. I’ll light a few candles...” he rambles as he turns and strides down the hallway. You follow after him reluctantly, as much as the bath sounds nice, you already feel like a burden.

You stand in the doorway as you watch him remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves. He fusses over the tub as of you’re not there. The water spills out into the deep porcelain basin and he stands. He turns and gestures to a towel on a silver bar.

“That is clean,” he says before he opens the tall cupboard near the sink, “bath salt... rose.”

He reads the canister before he uncaps it. He turns to add a sprinkle to the water, the floral aroma rising with the steam. He sets it aside and beckons you into the bathroom. You cross the tile as you play with the hem of your shirt.

He brushes past you and you turn to watch him go. You face the tub again and pull up your shirt. You let your pants slip down your legs and as you straighten, you hear him return. He places a three-wick candle on the ledge above the tub and lights it.

He looks at you, his eyes roving up and down, and he smirks, “I’m almost tempted to join you, darling, but alas, I do have a few things to tend to.”

“That’s... okay,” you murmur, hugging yourself as you stand in panty and bra.

He scoffs, “why are you playing shy, eh?” He nears and tickles along your collar bone, sending a shiver through you.

“I’m not, I’m... cold,” you lie and turn your attention to the tub.

“Mm, if you need any help warming up,” his fingers flutter up your neck before he retracts his touch, “should you need me, you need only call my name, fawn.”

“Alright,” you eke out.

You wait until he’s past you but don’t check to see if he’s gone. You strip down the rest of your clothes and near the tub. You lift your legs over the edge and sink into the water. You sigh as the warmth seeps into you.

You close your eyes as the water continues to lap down by your feet. You try to let the tension out. You’re thinking too much.

💔

You button up the shirt Jonathan left for you. You still feel uneasy as you slip into bed but you’re too tired to care. You might be invading his space but he doesn’t seem to mind much. Besides, the hot water has finished you off. You just want to sleep forever.

Your eyes roll back and you hide from the world. It doesn’t quite fade away, still vaguely present on the other side of your eyelids. That hazy itchiness settles in your head but the fog just won’t thicken to darkness. You’re awake, barely, kept conscious by the nerves rattling in your chest.

In your stupour, you remain vaguely aware of your unusual surroundings. Despite the threat that lingers on the other side of the walls, you can’t help but miss your apartment. It’s the first space that was truly your own. All that’s ruined.

You hear a dulcet tone, a low hum that’s soothing a much as it is stirring. You roll onto your side and grumble, peeling open your eyes as your ears prick. Jonathan’s voice precedes him into the room. You blink at him from the bed, curled up under the blankets as your warmth keeps you in place.

“Yes, I will have her there, never you worry,” he says breezily, “mm, yes, I’ve the time. I’ll add it to my calendar. Shouldn’t be any issue.” As you watch him, he meets your gaze and his brows flick up as he grins, “thanks, Eugenia, can’t wait. Yes, you have a wonderful night.”

He pulls the phone away from his ear and you recognise the case and the cracked protector. It’s yours. What the heck? You sit up and reach instinctively for him.

“Hey, that’s my phone,” you accuse.

“Yes, it was ringing and I thought you asleep. It was only your mother,” he drops the phone on the bed next to you. “I could hardly answer between messages from that pest you call a neighbour.”

“What?” You grasp the cell and slide it closer.

“She only wanted to confirm the time for the engagement party next weekend. You can wear one of your new dresses,” he explains as he goes to the wall mirror and checks his reflection, smoothing his hair before he unbuttons his collar. He works a path down the row and the fabric slackens around his shoulders. “I’ve made certain to make record of each message that creature sends. We may just need to consult authorities.”

“Colin? I—I blocked him.”

“Please do not say his name. It’s absolutely hideous, isn’t it?” He faces you as he shrugs off his shirt. “It seems he has found an alternative, that chit he keeps around.”

“Ally?” You wonder.

“Mmm, is that her name,” he drones as he dumps his shirt into the hamper. “Well, we needn’t worry about them much longer.”

He continues to undress as you pull yourself up against the pillows. Things just keep happening and you can’t keep up. You look up as he wears nothing but his short cotton boxers and nears the bed. You peek down at your phone and put it on the night table to right of the bed.

“I do think you should call your landlord and give notice sooner than later,” he climbs onto the foot of the bed.

“Notice?” You echo in confusion, “why--”

“You cannot go back, darling, it’s not safe,” he tugs at the blanket, pulling it away from your body, “I cannot in good conscience let you return.”

“But I—we can just let things mellow out, right? Colin will get over it--”

“I told you,” he grabs your ankle, “do not utter his name at me.”

He pulls you so you fall flat on your back. You throw your arms out and gasp as your head bounces onto the mattress. He separates your legs and perches between them. You lift yourself on your elbows, breathless, and stare at him.

“I can’t stay forever--”

“Did I ever say that?” He challenges, his blue eyes blazing up at you.

“No, but--”

“I understand things have escalated quickly, fawn, but we will figure it all out. I will be certain to clarify everything at the office, let them know it was simply not your doing,” his eyes cling to your face and narrow before slowly descending.

He glides his hands up your legs, crawling closer on his knees. He slides his touch beneath the loose shirt and tickles your naked skin. He sends a chill through you that speckles hotly. He feels your body, running his hands up and your torso as you quiver.

He slips his hands above the fabric as he kneels between your thighs. He unbuttons the shirt to your belly button, unveiling your chest and bending to dote on it. He cups one side as his mouth explores the other; nipping and nuzzle. You let out a pathetic noise as you cradle the back of his head.

You arch your back as his warmth draws you in and chases away your doubts. His long fingers soothe you and his intensity overpowers you. As much as this man has you uncertain, you cannot resist him. It feels nice to be wanted even if it isn’t who you wanted.

💔

Once more, you fall asleep in the afterglow of Jonathan’s attentions. How easily he can obfuscate your fears and doubts. How his touch can so easily distract you from the things that might keep you awake.

The weight of his arm settles over you, holding you to him, his hard long body coiled around yours. He keeps a leg curled between yours as his hot breath seeps into your scalp. You’re content, you’re safe.

Your sleep is only disturbed as he untangles himself carefully from you. You don’t rouse entirely, clinging to the pillow and dregs of fatigue. He tucks the blanket under your figure and the bed shifts with the absences of his weight. His scent lingers behind him.

You sink back down and fall flat on your back, spreading out across the mattress. The late night lull settles over you, lulling you down as the distant drone of Jonathan’s lilted voice further coaxes you. You moan through your slumber and roll onto his side, longing for him to return.

You blink and the blue digits of the clock have changed. Twenty minutes and he’s still not back. You shiver and flutter your eyelashes, rubbing your cheeks as you force yourself awake. You sit up dizzily, you can still hear him.

You shimmy to the edge of the bed and stand. You hug yourself as a shiver washes over your naked flesh. The button-up is lost somewhere in the bedding. You put your feet down softly as you pad across the room, following his timbre as it come between sharper tones.

You creep out into the hall, a bluish glow drawing you in. You follow the cool hardwood to the front room and hide in the dim as you squint. Jonathan has his phone in hand, the screen alight as his profile is limned in its shine. He watches it intently as you recognise the voice chirping from the speaker.

“That’s so lovely, dear, hope we can see you soon,” his mother chimes.

You waver on your feet. Oh, you shouldn’t listen.

“Will she be coming?” His father’s gristly accent comes through.

You pause before you can back up. Jonathan clicks his tongue, “yes, I think so.”

“Jon,” his mother titters, “oh, that’s so exciting! That’s... big.”

“Eh, yes, don’t think you ever let us meet one of the birds,” he father chides.

“Father, she’s not... don’t call her that,” Jonathan rebukes.

“I’m teasing, yeah?” The elder Pine chortles, “you’re gonna have to warn her about us. If that place has made you so soft, I shouldn’t want to scare the girl.”

“Father,” Jonathan utters once more, “she’s... not... She’s perfect.”

His mom squeals and giggles. You gulp and press yourself against the wall. What is he talking about? He’s talking about taking you somewhere. To his home? That’s a far way. Something he should probably ask you first. His mother is entirely correct; that’s big. His compliments cannot counteract the shock of his one-sided decision.

You sidle along the hallway, careful not to place your feet too heavily. As you near the bedroom, your elbow hits the frame and the thump casts silence through the apartment. Shoot.

You peer toward the front room and see Jonathan’s shadow closing in. He must have heard your misstep. You quickly flit into the room and ease into the bed. You pull the blankets over you and turn your back to the door. Your heart is racing.

You sense him in the doorway, watching you. Silent.

“Everything okay, son?” His father asks.

“Yes, it’s... fine,” Jonathan answers, “I’ll let you go. Wouldn’t want to wake her.”

“Oh yes, get some sleep,” his mother insists, “love ya.”

“Night, son.”

Jonathan crosses the room and you hear his phone meet the table on his side of the bed. The mattress dips as he climbs in and pulls the blanket over himself, nestling in close to you. He sighs and hums as he hugs you to him once more.

You lay, frozen and silent, praying he can’t feel your pulse.

“Did I wake you?” He whispers and kisses your crown.

You force a groan from your throat and feign grogginess, “hmm, oh, no...” You wiggle into the mattress and yawn, putting your hand over his.

“Back to sleep, darling,” he purrs as he nuzzles you.

#colin shea #jonathan pine #dark colin shea #dark!colin shea #dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #colin shea x reaader #what's your number?#the night manager #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #multifandom

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