#she was so ready to defend her baby and i have never gotten over it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ash5monster01 · 10 months

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Learning to Love Part 5

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 2.5k

Part 4 ←→ Part 6

Masterlist

“You’re going to his place again?” Mila groans from the couch. She thought you were going to stay home after the insane shift you both had just worked. She had also managed to put away half a bottle of wine in the time you were getting ready to go to Rafe’s. He had to work a late night at the office and he had practically begged you to come over for an hour or two even though you were exhausted as well.

"Yes, he is my boyfriend and he wants to see me" you tell her and she pouts, refilling the glass in her hand. You realize she should just drink from the bottle at this point.

"Lame" she says and you chuckle, pulling a hoodie over your head.

"You're only saying that because I have a boyfriend and you don't. Now you know what it's like for me sister" you point at her and she rolls her eyes so hard you're positive they could've gotten stuck.

"True but also why doesn't he ever come here, is he to good for our little apartment or something?" you know she's wine drunk but her words still make you freeze. You hadn't considered going to Rafe's all the time hadn't benefited your end of the bargain for a while. Your neighbors, friends, peers, were all supposed to see that tall glass of water come in and out of your own apartment too.

"No, we're just used to me going there" you defend and she shakes her head like this says something about your relationship that you don't know or understand. Before you can ask her what she's thinking your phone rings and your sliding it out of your pocket.

"Hey Rafe, I'm leaving now" you answer and Mila perks up on the couch, eyes landng straight on you.

"Is that Rafe, tell him he sucks!" she says just loud enough that you know Rafe had heard.

"Baby, can you ask Mila why I suck?" he asks and you sigh as you turn and face your drunk friend who should be bothering some other boy tonight.

"He wants to know why he sucks" you tell her and she grins deviously before propping herself on her knees and leaning over the back of the couch.

"He sucks because he expects his girlfriend to be at his beck and call to every need, always making her go over there to satisfy him when he can come over here and tap that fine ass in her own space too" the deep blush that covers your cheeks from your best friends drunken rant is close to a firetruck as Rafe chuckles darkly on the other end of the phone.

"So Mila wants me to come satisfy your needs in your own space for once huh?" you hate that his words send nervous tingles through your body.

"She's had a little bit of wine, mixed in with some shots some customers bought for her" you tell him and he laughs loudly.

"Stay home, I'll be there in a little bit. She's right, this isn't just about me" and you nervously gulp while nodding even though he can't see you.

"Alright, I'll be here" you muster out and he mutters a goodbye that has you ending the call and shoving your phone back in your pocket. The second you look up you're shooting a glare at your bestfriend who's devious plan has just worked.

"He's coming here, you happy?" you ask as you walk into the living room, flopping onto the couch next to her and she grins, sipping at the wine.

"I guess I better open another bottle" she tells you and you shake your head as she stands to find another glass which you'll happily take to calm the nerves you have about Rafe being in your own space. It's only after one glass he finally makes an appearance with a soft knock on the door. Mila yells for him to come in as you prepare to entertain the boy for God knows how long. Yet when he opens the door and saunters in you find your mouth gaping. The Rafe you knew was always dressed to the nines, his leisure wear was still some sort of collared shirt and slacks, but the Rafe that just walked through your door is not. The thin fabric of his black t-shirt is stretched tightly over the expanse of his chest and the grey sweatpants he wears hang low on his hips, you catch his grin as he slips off the white converse on his feet that he had left untied, leaving him in only some socks.

"Damn" Mila says outloud and that has you blushing bright red once again. Rafe chuckles at your friend before walking over to you.

"Hi" you grin at him as calmly as you can and he smiles, slipping in the spot beside you on the couch.

"Hi" he says back to you, leaning forward where you catch the glint of the silver chain on his neck. His lips brush softly against your own and you try to remind yourself that none of this is real.

"Damn I need to get laid" Mila mutters beside you and this has you giggling against Rafe's lips before he pulls away. You watch as he nods at the glass in Mila's hand.

"You going to share?" he asks and she smiles at him, a sign she likes how comfortable he already is being here. As she had prepared for this she leans to the coffee table, pouring some wine into the empty glass she had set aside for him.

"Have at it" she tells him as she slips the wine glass into his hand and he smiles before taking a sip and wrapping his arm around you on the couch.

"So what're we doing? Movie night or something?" he asks and Mila smirks as she grabs the remote, happy to be third wheeling and get a front row seat to this relationship you've been experiencing.

"Exactly that, welcome to our apartment" she tells him before clicking a few buttons. You're not sure what kind of evil she is on tonight when she clicks The Notebook knowing this movie wrecks you absolutely every time. Rafe snuggles closer into your side as the movie starts and you accept your defeat, already knowing it's going to be a long night.

When the movie ends you have tears running down your face. Tears that make Rafe realize how empathetic you are to the characters on the screen. The notion makes him want to curl up and comfort you all night. When the screen finally goes black and the credits run down the screen Mila makes her great escape, leaving the two now empty bottles of wine that she mostly completed herself, sit on the table. "Well that’s it for me. Have fun you two, I expect another hickey like last time"

"What?" you splutter out, curious as to what hickey she had meant. You had a mark on your neck after the night at the hotel but you just chalked it up to drunken injury.

"Goodnight" Rafe tells her as she disappears down the hall and into her room and that is when you realize she was expecting Rafe to spend the night.

"I guess she thinks you’re staying the night" you whsiper into the quiet of the room and Rafe chuckles dryly.

"And giving you a hickey" he laughs and his smile makes a smile of your own break out across your face.

"If you're comfortable I dont mind" you tell him and Rafe raises his eyebrows at this.

"Comfortable with staying or giving you a hickey?" you blush at his words which only causes him to laugh even more. "Come on you, I can handle a sleepover. I'll jump on your bed if we need to make things convincing"

"You're insane" you tell him and he only smiles as he stands and reaches a hand out to help you from the couch. When he doesn't start walking you give him a confused look and before you can react he’s bending down and wrapping his arms behind your legs. Panic shoots through you at the idea of him not being able to lift you, your weight dragging him down, but what you dont expect is how easily he props you on his shoulder and starts down the hallway.

"Rafe, oh my God" you sqeual unbeknownst to Mila who has poked her head out of the room to see you two. She’s surprised you’ve allowed Rafe to carry you but happy you’re beginning to learn that a man can love you for exactly who you are.

Rafe finds your bedroom easily, carrying you in and dropping you in a heap on top of the bed. You can’t help the grin that’s on your face from how he had carried you with ease. Yes you were big but he was strong. Had you been looking at this size difference all wrong? Rafe jumps beside you, fingers tickling your sides that has you squealing into the late night air. It had to be almost 3am by now but you didn’t even care. Rafe had become one of your best friends and you never would’ve thought some aggravated deal would’ve gotten you into this situation.

“I like your room” he says once he stops, you both trying to catch your breath. You don’t miss the way he hovers above you, the chain now loose from the collar of his shirt. He finds himself holding a breath when your finger curls around it, giving it a light tug.

“Thank you, if I had known you were coming sooner I would’ve cleaned up a bit” you tell him, mindlessly playing with the chain.

“I don’t mind” he tells you and you smile, letting the chain go and moving to sit up.

“I’m gonna wash my face, you need anything?” you ask and he shakes his head, moving to the side to allow you to leave. As you wash your face he pulls back your covers, slips off his shirt, and crawls inside. When you’re back in the room you find yourself laughing at the way he lays leisurely in your bed, entirely at home with both arms propped behind him. “You comfy?”

“Never better” he grins and you shake your head before shutting your door and turning off the light. The lamp on your bedside table is the only illumination back to the bed where the most good looking guy you’ve ever seen lays topless in. You smile shyly at him as you crawl in beside him, lifting the covers over yourself, and realizing this is the first time you’ve spent the night with him sober.

“Goodnight” you tell him softly before reaching for your lamp. In just one click you two are enveloped by darkness. You can barely see him but you can feel the warmth that comes from the usually cold side of your bed.

“Goodnight sweetheart” he returns in the darkness and you try your best to pretend he’s not there and just fall asleep. It’s proven to be useless because you’re hyper aware that the most good looking man you know is trying to sleep beside you.

“Rafe?” you plead out and you feel the bed shift as he rolls on his side to face you.

“Yeah baby?” he asks and you sigh, nerves licking up your spine. So you do the only thing you do best, ramble.

“I know Mila was just teasing but if she doesn’t see evidence we did anything she’ll feel bad for intervening but then I feel like if she does see evidence she’ll have something more to tease us about. It’s silly I just don’t know how to do this whole fake dating thing, hell I’m barely good at real dating, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never had a real hick-“ you’re cut off by his finger pressing against your lips in the dark.

“You don’t shut up sometimes” he teases and you blush, which for once he can’t see. “Do you want to give me a hickey?”

“W-what?” you stutter out and he chuckles which makes your whole body warm over.

“Fair trade, since she thinks you had a hickey last weekend” he says and you heart triples in speed.

“I don’t really know how” you say and he tenses beside you, something you take as surprise but really he finds himself extremely turned on by your inexperience.

“I can show you” this is the last thing you expect him to say so you take a moment to let it soak in before answering.

“Okay” you say and the bed shifts again as Rafe sits up, rolling over to face you a bit better. You can barely makeout his form but still can tell how handsome he is.

“It’s easier then you think, just relax” and you almost laugh because how can he expect you to relax when he’s about to kiss your neck. He places a hand on your waist and your stomach jumps at the feeling. He leans some of his weight on you until his hot breath is fanning across your skin. “Ready?”

You nod feverishly, just wanting him to get it over with. He starts small, just a few pecks up the expanse of your neck and you try to keep your breathing regular. Then finally where you neck meets your shoulder he wraps his lips around the expanse of skin, tongue lapping smoothly over it, while he sucks. A small squeak leaves your throat as he continues. The minute he finds the sweet spot you have to surpress a moan but based on the way you’re breathing he can already tell you’re enjoying it.

As if you’re no longer in control of your body your hand meets the back of his head, fingers tangling into his hair and gripping slightly. What you don’t expect is the hum of delight Rafe sends into your neck from the action. He works you over as best he can, fighting the urge to kiss you literally anywhere else. When he finally gets the small moan he was searching for the hand that’s on your waist meets your waist band. The shorts you wear are pulled above your belly button and you know the further his hand goes down the more fat he’ll find. Yet you hate the anticipation you have mixed with fear. He truly could just reach down, give you the relief you need but your panic still wins. Loosening your hand from his hair he gets the memo that this is too much and as much as he’s disappointed, he’s more disappointed you don’t believe that his attraction can be real.

“That should’ve done it” he says as he releases from you and you nod even though he can’t see you.

“Is it okay if I don’t try, not quite yet?” you ask nervously and Rafe’s shoulders drop in disappointment which you can barely see.

“Yeah, it’s okay. Next time” he says with a teasing tone even though he was quite excited to have your warm mouth all over his neck as well. Especially since just the few small sounds you had made turned him on more than anything.

“Goodnight for real” you say with a light laugh and he gives a tight lipped smile that you can’t see and rolls back into his spot beside you.

“Goodnight for real”

a/n: listen my plus size girlies, I know the whole lifting you up thing isn’t entirely believable. I myself fully believe Rafe/Drew could never lift me. I’ve been trying to make this fic as accurate and believable for us bigger girls as possible, but don’t we deserve the cliches sometimes! Rafe is a fictional character, I can make him able to lift the biggest of us if he wants! I stand by that <3

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @fishingirl12 @houseofperfecttaste @abbybarnesstuff @carma-fanficaddict @jjmaybankisbae @exhaustedbutelated @diagnosedpsychosis @daivny @drewstarkeygf @vinniehackersbaee @emsgoodthinkin @apollo3475 @https-urwife @willowalexissss @kisstaya @hcneyedsstuff @lexiereblogs @drewsuncrustables @mveggieburger @marvel4life3000 @bibliophilewednesday @humungouspatrolwolf @ijustwanttoreadlols @jaijustreads @sleepjam @dilvcv @aaronhotchswife @sunshine1218 @lavenderhazeq

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

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starfall-spirit · 1 month

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And the Starlight Kissed Your Face Again

For @reverie-tales

Read on Ao3

Summary: There’s nothing more special to Rhys and Feyre than spending Starfall with their family, but then they also don’t hesitate to take a few moments of alone time when someone so kindly offers to keep an eye on their children.

Nothing could quite match the buzzing excitement of a sunset on Starfall evening, a blanket of stars replacing the dusk light. Another hour or two and the migration would begin. Laughter and merriment were overflowing—as was the wine they'd brought out for the occassion. Feyre was already feeling the first glass hit her when her mate returned to her with a fresh flute. "Oh no. Food first, Rhys. We have kids to watch and you know I'm a lightweight."

Several squeals cut through the music and chatter surrounding them and a moment later she found their two children weaving through the crowd on quick feet, Vivian and Kallias' daughter on their heels. "The children are minding themselves, darling. Neither of them are going to fall off of the balcony with wards in place. Relax." The glasses vanished from his hands and she was in his arms once again. "It's Starfall, my love. Dance with me."

She sighed. The kids were safe and having fun and Feyre and Rhys knew every person around them by name. He was right.

"I'm always right, darling."

She laughed aloud at that. "Hardly. But you can keep dreaming."

He leaned down to kiss her, putting an end to her quips and letting her melt against him. She'd never tire of this. Never stop drowning in the taste of him. "Is there a moment we might have a chance of seeing you two with your faces detached?"

She broke the kiss, wincing slightly before the intruding voice processed. "Lucien! You're here!" Rhys scowled when she squirmed out of his hold, but released her in the end so she could welcome Elain and Lucien with a hug. "It feels like ages since I've seen you."

His lips ticked up when she withdrew to embrace her sister. "It's been a busy few months, I'll admit. But we wouldn't dare miss Starfall."

She beamed, squeezing her sister's hand. "And how have you been, Elain?"

"Tired," her sister admitted, pressing her hand to her swollen belly with a smile, "but excited all the same. I can't believe I only have a few months left. The time's flown."

After being mated for nearly four years now, Elain and Lucien had been blessed with their first child. Tucked away in Day, the pair had been discreet in the early weeks, but nothing stayed quiet for long between sisters. Especially since they'd become closer and started writing after Elain and Lucien were mated and began residing in the Day Court. It had taken time, but they were all better for the healing they'd finally achieved together. "So, tell me what you've been up to, Elain. I've hardly heard a peep since your last visit."

"I'm sorry. I've been a bit distracted, preparing for the baby. The nursery design is about the only thing I get to lift a finger on nowadays. You warned me he'd be overbearing, but I didn't realize it would be so ridiculous." Rhys and Lucien both frowned, looking ready to defend their actions, only to be interrupted by high-pitched squeals and the staccato of little feet running across the red stone floor. Her sister staggered back slightly when Nyx made impact, now tall enough to wrap his arms around her middle while little Roxana could only reach her skirts. Their mouths were already running a mile a minute. Feyre had to give her credit, considering she couldn't catch more than a few words out of the jumble as their mother. "That is quite a tale," she replied when they finally stopped to breathe. "You'll have to tell us more while we're here with you. Why don't you two give Uncle Lucien a hug now."

Scurrying over, they flung themselves at Lucien with equal enthusiasm. He grinned right back, ruffling Nyx's dark hair and hoisting Roxana up with one arm. "You've gotten bigger, little girl. How tall are you now, hm?" With the kids well on their way to complete distraction, Feyre caught Elain making a little shooing motion. Go on, she mouthed. Feyre tried to protest, but Rhys was already herding her closer to the edge of the party to winnow away a bit more discreetly.

"Only a few minutes, Rhys," she mumbled when his magic cleared from around them. "They aren't here to watch the kids."

"Of course, darling." He already had her against the wall behind them, breath hot against her neck before his mouth closed over her pulse, pinching down. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and alerting the party above to exactly what was going on. "There's a shield in place already."

"W-what?"

"Don't try to hide a sound from me, mate." Gently pulling her away from the wall, he threaded his fingers through her hair, her next groan silenced by his lips on hers. "Every day you look so damn beautiful. Every day I think my life can't get any more perfect. And every day you prove me wrong." With her next breath she was being guided down to her back, his hand still cradling her head to keep it from knocking back onto the stone. One hand fell to her ankle, his loose hold gliding up her leg to raise the hem off her dress little by little, placing tender kisses and bites along the way. "Let me take you beneath the stars, Feyre."

She couldn't deny this. Couldn't deny him. He hummed into her mind, pleased when the fabric of her dress passed her waist. His fingers traced the edge of her panties before slipping beneath them. "These are new. Too pretty to ruin just yet." In the last eight years of their mating they had to have set some sort of record in lingerie sales with how many sets he'd either misted or ripped to shreds. But that was her last concern now that he had two thick fingers pumping a slow, torturous rhythm inside of her. "Oh," she groaned. Her hips jerked upward and he chuckled, doing nothing to quicken the pace, content to maintain his steady pace until it drove her to her undoing. "Rhys."

"Yes?" he purred, appearing entirely unruffled. She knew better. Knew him better than anyone.

Jerking him down by the back of his neck, she pulled him close, nearly shivering at the feeling of his chuckle against her neck. "Fill me up, please. I need to feel you inside of me."

He cursed, low and filthy. She had him now. "My sweet little mate, so wet for me." A snap and their clothes were folded up in a neat pile nearby, his hard length pushing into her in one steady stroke. She clenched down hard, shaking like a leaf as his hips forced her to open for him. "Fuck. Tight little cunt, taking me so well."

He drew back a few inches, snapping his hips forward sharply enough to force a hoarse cry from her lips. "Rhys!"

"You can take it, darling." Slow and brutal would be his game tonight. She whimpered under the next stroke, but he didn't stop, didn't gentle or change his pace. She'd even take a hard fucking right now. Anything but this sluggish climb to insanity. Rhys reached out to tweek her nipple and she gripped his shoulders hard, knowing her nails had to be breaking skin. "Good girl. You just hold onto me nice and tight while I take care of you." His mouth came down to sooth the sting and she shuddered again.

"Rhys, more, please."

Raising his head again he pressed the softest kiss to her jaw, then her nose, and finally her mouth. Gripping her hips tight, he rocked into her a little faster, at last building the friction between them. Lips otherwise occupied, he spoke into her mind once again. "Come for me, mate."

She spiraled up higher and higher, praying his shield had held when her scream pierced the air and she came crashing down, her reality lost to sensation. Rhys was close behind, buried deep inside of her as he finally reached his release. "Cauldron, Feyre."

Feyre moaned again as he rolled his hips through the last of his orgasm before withdrawing slowly and easing her up and into his arms, murmuring soft praise in her ear as she finally gathered her senses. "There they are," he whispered. And peeling her eyes open, she was met with the most exquisite Starfall yet. "I haven't seen a migration like this in nearly a century."

Raising her head from his chest, she eyed their folded clothes then glanced up to where their family waited for them beyond the red stone and sound shield. "Still want to dance with me tonight?"

A few moments later they had almost rid themselves of the evidence of what they'd done. Returning to the party, Feyre let him pull her in close, kissing her forehead. And as their children found them again she felt the starlight dance on her skin. And she did not try to hide it, for her joy could not be contained.

~~~~~

Taglist: @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone

#acotar #feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #feysand fic #starfall #gift fic #HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEL!!!

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voidconversations · 1 year

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ADA WONG ; LOVE LANGUAGE

navi. | masterlist.

what i think her love languages are (all my opinion so if you don’t agree that’s fine).

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

↳ her love language: gift giving.

she would spoil you with so many gifts. she would def take you to whatever store you wanted and buy out the whole place if you asked

i feel like she’s not the sentimental type, with her job and all, so her gift giving only applies to store bought gifts

she might buy something (like a necklace) with something only you two would know about though (like an inside joke or a saying)

but that’s the extent of her sentimentality

↳ her love language: acts of service.

to me, ada is the type of woman to want to take care of her partner

maybe she’d see a mess that needed to be cleaned up but knows you’ve been stressed lately, so she’d clean it while you were away for the evening, so you can return to a clean home

she’d make you meals when she notices you’ve been overworking yourself and forgetting to eat

anything broken in your home that you’ve been meaning to take care of would suddenly be fixed or replaced

↳ her love language: words of affirmation.

she doesn’t even realize she does this one

she’s not the type to give out praise all the time, but with you it’s just so easy

when you think you’ve done something wrong or maybe you’re working on something you hate, she’s the first to look it over and tell you all the things you did right. she’ll tell you if anything needs to be rethought out but she’ll never insult you or put you down for it

i feel like she’d be the type to support her partner 100%, you’ll always have her in your corner ready to defend you/support you

↳ her love language: pet names.

she’s such a pet name woman

will call you a pretty thing literally all the time, you could be wearing the most comfortable lazy lounging clothes and she’d still compliment you “well aren’t you a pretty thing?”

sweetheart, baby, love, angel. it really depends on how she’s feeling that day

she calls you everything except your name and it’s gotten to the point where sometimes you wonder if she forgot it

she didn’t of course

↳ her love language: physical touch.

this but very subtle, especially in public

when she’s at home she has to constantly have some part of her body touching yours. her legs tangled with yours on the couch, her fingers brushing through your hair in bed, etc

she loves when you get all clingy, although she’d never admit it

when she’s in a bad mood she likes her space but on a rare occasion she’ll seek out your warmth for comfort

in public she might hook her pinky with yours or play footsies with you underneath a table, but she hovers more than anything. she’s def not a fan of pda

↳ her love language: communication.

this is where it gets tricky

she wants you to be open and honest with her 24/7, she hates guessing how you feel, she’d rather know

anytime you close off to her, she’s immediately getting you to talk, even if you don’t want to

but it’s not the same for her

she’ll dance around how she actually feels and is a master at evading talking about things she doesn’t want to talk about

it causes arguments but she’s trying to open up more, for you

note: i could’ve made this a lot more detailed but i didn’t want this to be too long cause they’re just some headcannons i have. also, i am still writing ghosting you! i just couldn’t get this out of my head so i needed to write something small for ada. she literally lives in my head rent free, 24/7…

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saintsir4n · 6 months

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CALM DOWN

in which brian gets mad!

___

“Hey! Hey! Back off — Vince outside, put down the vase, you’re not breakin’ shit in my house. Brian go upstairs, Summer you go with him, clean those bruised hands,” Dom’s voice carried through the living room that was practically turned on its head. One small conversation turned into a big argument and then it eventually got physical. “What did I say? No fighting on Sundays. It’s a day for family and you two do the exact opposite, so now everyone cool off until dinner's ready.”

Vince scoffed, his glare never left Brian’s retreating figure until Leon and Jesse pushed him outside. Letty followed Dom, deciding to help him with the rest of the food prep, whilst Mia and KeKe helped pick up anything broken to toss in the trash.

Carson rolled her eyes as she joined Brian in the upstairs bathroom. Her dress would’ve gotten ruined if she hadn’t moved away from her boyfriend who had tussled with Vince until Dom got involved and pulled them apart with Jesse and Leon’s help.

Brian was against the sink, watching as she pulled out the first aid kit in silence, brows pinching together when she didn’t say anything to him, and just sighed to herself.

“You’re gonna give me the silent treatment, really?” He exacerbated, as she pulled out bandaids, cotton pads and hydrogen peroxide.

“Just stop movin’,” she muttered when she got him to wash his hands.

“He insults us and I get the cold shoulder? I don’t believe this, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

She frowned, “There are no sides Brian, and drop that base from your voice, I’m not the problem here.”

He laughed in disbelief, “Oh, and I am?”

“I never said that," she sighed, trying to wipe the cuts as he winced at the pain.

“You’re not denying it," Brian stressed, annoyed that she didn't have a problem with it.

“You didn’t have to react," Carson hated violence and her boyfriend seemed to be constantly around it.

He scoffed, “So I’m just supposed to take his shit.”

“I never said that either," she retorted, "Hold still." Brian cursed when the hydrogen peroxide coursed over his open wounds, "Sorry."

“Then what are you sayin’? ‘Cause to me it just sounds like you think I’m in the wrong," he gritted out, body digging into the sink as he felt some pain. "That I’m the issue, and I should just sit back and let guys like Vince walk all over me.”

She rose a brow, “Guys like Vince?”

He rolled his eyes, “Here we go.”

“Here we go what?” She looked at him, seeing how heated he was getting about this.

“You’re focusin’ on that, really?”

“He’s my family so watch how you talk about him," she exclaimed.

“I’m your boyfriend and you’re actin’ like that don’t mean nothin’”

“You know that’s not true," her shoulders slumped. "You mean so much to me. Brian, you know that.”

“Do I?”

“You know you do.” She paused, pulling out a large bandage and cut it in half, “It’s just…”

“It’s just what?”

“You didn’t have to punch him," she stressed, applying some cream before wrapping his wounds.

“Yes, I did," he groaned, as she took a step back, “We hold hands and it’s a problem, we smile at each other it’s a problem, You sit on my lap and we kiss suddenly he can’t take it anymore and makes digs. If it’s at me I get it, he hates me, but the second he calls you naive, or an idiot, I'm not gonna sit back and do nothin'."

"Well I can see that," Carson gestured to his sore hands, "and I'm not some pushover, I can handle Vince, I'm just tired of the drama."

"He's the drama," he said, calmer.

"Says the guy with bloody fists," she teased, putting away the first aid kit and coming to stand between his legs.

"Well, they match his busted lip."

She couldn't help but laugh, "I appreciate you defending me, I do."

"I'll always defend you, you know that," Brian wouldn't let any harm come to her, even if it was just stupid words.

"But you need to keep that temper under control, you could've ripped my dress."

"Let me see," he cooed, trailing his hand down to the hem, "Sorry baby."

"Yeah I know, it's fine just calm down sometimes," she pleaded, with a pout.

"I'll calm down when he learns that I can kiss you whenever I want," Brian said, sternly, snaking his arms around her waist, "touch you, take you out and he can't do a damn thing because we're together alright? or I'll start thinkin' he's actin' more like a jealous ex and less like a brother."

"Alright, alright, you’re all cleaned up," she gently patted his chest, "lets go."

"Wait, wait, wait, let me kiss you, before we go down stairs, couldn't wanna get interrupted again would we?"

Carson laughed into the kiss.

—

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evispunk · 2 months

Text

MEET THE CAMERONS

a/n: first chapters are normally super slow and are just to get you an introduction to the book, so if you don't like it, please give it a chance and read a little more. as a reader, i don't even like this chapter. this is where you can stop reading if you don't want to know a few things about me.

one - i've been watching outer banks and reading fics about it since 2020. i've gotten quite a feel for the characters and my own opinions and views on them. so of course, this may or may not be similar to other fics you have read, or maybe this is something entirely different! this will follow the plot of the show MAINLY. it will derive a few times and not exactly follow the timeline of the show but all of the events will happen.

two - i have been writing since i was twelve. my writing may not be your style or the best you've ever seen, but i'm proud of it and that's why i'm putting it out there for you to see. please do not critique me in the comments! save it for your therapist.

three - i'm a rafe defender sorry not sorry he's a baby

summary: violette and her parents head over to the cameron's, her parents' good friends, house for dinner where she meets sarah & wheezie for the first time, and rafe, whom she hasn't seen since they were in diapers. plot intro.

warnings: innocent little kook with no idea what she's in for

"ARE YOU ALMOST ready?" Matt called up the spiral staircase to his daughter, Violette. She huffed, unplugging her curling iron and brushing out her waves.

"Yes, Dad, just get in the car, I'll be down in a sec!" she yelled back, applying lip balm at the same time and switching the lights off. The brunette girl took one last look at herself in the hallway mirror, staring back at her smooth, cream-colored dress with knots that were tied into bows on the shoulder straps. Her black heels clicked against the stairs as she jogged down them, heading towards her parents' car.

"Oh, honey, you look beautiful." Violette's mother, Cecilia told her once she sat down in the back seat.

"Thank you, Mom." she smiled, buckling her seatbelt behind the driver's seat.

"Are you excited to see The Cameron's again? You haven't seen Rafe since you two were in diapers right before we moved." Cecilia said, turning to face her daughter.

"I guess. I'm a little nervous to meet his sisters though, I mean, what if they're the fake bitchy type?"

"Language, young lady." her father interrupted, pointing a finger into the rearview mirror as he turned left.

"I doubt that. I've never met Rose personally, but I've talked with her a few times and her and Ward are amazing parents. I'm sure they're really sweet." Violette's mother reassured her with a smile.

"What are their names again?"

"Sarah and Eloise, but the little one is called Wheezie."

"Wheezie? Does she have asthma?" she returned, pulling her phone out from her black shoulder bag.

"No, just a nickname that stuck, I'm sure. Don't make that joke at dinner."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Violette smiled, unbuckling herself as the car halted to a stop in the Cameron's yard.

"Be on your best behavior, Vi." Matt instructed, locking the door and putting his keys into his pocket, next to his wallet.

Violette swung the gold chain of her shoulder bag over her left, and began walking up to the front door with her parents. Her mother lightly knocked three times on their large door, and stepped back, awaiting their response.

The door swung open abruptly, and the blond woman behind it smiled.

"Welcome! You must be Cecilia!" the woman Violette now knew as Rose hugged her mother, then looked at her father.

"Matt." he smiled, and hugged her too as she kissed his cheek.

"Rose." she returned, moving her attention to their daughter. "And you must be the wonderful Violette I have heard so much about," Rose continued, initiating another hug. "Wow, I have to say you smell great. What are you wearing?"

"Miss Dior." the girl replied, thanking her.

"I'll have to buy that one. Come on in, guys." she said, opening the door completely to let the Rhodes enter their home. "I'm just about done with supper, and Rafe is setting the table."

Violette looked around at the Camerons' house, taking in her expensive surroundings. Their home was even more elegant than hers, and they were considered to be almost filthy rich. It smelt quite clean, almost like a mix of fresh linen and salt air.

"Violette?" a voice called from beside her, and she whipped her head towards the sound to find a dirty blond girl standing there wearing a strapless, navy, crossfront bandeau top dress. "Hey, I'm Sarah. Rafe's sister." the girl smiled, taking a few steps towards Violette.

"Oh, hi. Sorry, you scared me, but it's nice to meet you. I love your dress."

"Thank you! I got it at this cute boutique downtown, you'll have to come shop with me sometime."

"I'd love to." Violette replied, looking at the Cameron girl some more. She noticed her wearing two necklaces, one smaller gold chain, and a longer necklace with an 'S' on it.

"Your heels are gorgeous, by the way." Sarah continued, silently urging Violette to walk with her.

"Givenchy."

"Wow. So, you're bougie."

"I like what I like. Of course, not everything is about a brand, but it sure can be."

"You know what, I get that. I don't really care as much, but, I can see why someone would." she smiled. "Oh, Wheeze." Sarah stopped in her tracks, almost catching the Rhodes girl off guard.

"Hm? Oh. Hi, what's your name?"

"Violette. I'm assuming you're Wheezie?"

"I don't know anyone else with that name." she responded with a laugh, her dark curls bouncing with it.

"Can't say I do either," Violette said, voice back to normal. "Hey, I've met pretty much everyone besides Rafe. Do you know where he's at?"

"Probably in the kitchen." the black-haired girl answered, standing up to join the two girls on their walk. "Come this way." The two newfound friends followed Wheezie through the hall until they reached the kitchen, finding Rafe and Ward sipping on their drinks while leaning against the island.

"Violette. How're you doing, sweetie?" the older Cameron smiled, meeting Violette halfway and hugging her.

"I'm doing well. And you?"

"Great, great. You remember Rafe." he pointed to his son, drink in hand.

"Just barely. I do remember a lot of him stealing my toys." she replied and Ward laughed, grabbing Rafe's shoulder. The blond teenager only dryly stared at Violette and drank from his glass.

"Yeah, that sounds like Rafe. I see you already met Sarah and Wheezie, hope they weren't too hard on you."

"Hey!" Wheezie defended herself from behind Violette, still standing next to a temporarily silent Sarah, "We're actually really nice, if you didn't notice."

"I'm sure that's what you think," Rafe commented, refilling his cup with Coke. Violette's gaze fell upon him, slightly taken aback by his arrogant demeanor.

"Rafe-"

"Supper's ready!" Rose called out from the next room over, and Rafe smirked to himself while Ward's face turned sour. His expression quickly recovered when he turned to the three girls and nodded towards the dining room, he and his son following.

"This looks delicious, Rose." Cecilia complimented, smoothing her long dress down as she took a seat at the table.

"Thank you. It's an old family recipe of Ward's." she smiled at the woman in return, setting her napkin on her lap.

"It's steak, Rose." Rafe rolled his eyes, scooting his chair in louder than necessary.

"I think it looks and smells lovely," Ward interjected whilst giving his son 'the look', "Let's eat." he smiled.

Violette walked into the kitchen and began stacking plates and cups, deciding to help Rose with the dishes as a thank you for the supper she undoubtedly spent hours cooking.

"Oh, you don't have to do that, honey. You can go talk with everyone else."

"That's okay, I like to help. Take it as a thank you for supper."

"Well then, I won't stop you," she agreed, turning back to the large sink, scrubbing and rinsing dishes before loading them into their stainless steel dishwasher. "So, Violette, do you have a boyfriend back on the mainland?"

"I don't, actually. I was seeing this one guy for a while, but he turned out to be a huge jerk, so I ended it. It was sad too, he was real cute." the young girl responded, heading over to the other side of the sink and using some of the water that had collected to rinse cups and silverware.

"Trust me, I've been there," Rose laughed. "I dated this one guy in high school, Thomas White. Turns out he was making out with guys the whole time we were dating." she continued, shaking her head.

"Whoa, talk about a plot twist."

"Tell me about it. You know, I never got to ask at dinner- what do your parents do for work again? I know your mother makes jewelry, I bought some from her."

"Yeah, she does. Um, my dad's a lawyer, actually."

"Have you ever got to say, 'My dad's a lawyer,'?" Rose chuckled lightly, switching off the sink and shutting the dishwasher door.

"Not yet, but it sure has crossed my mind a few times."

"Goodnight Mom," Violette said as her mother passed her bathroom whilst brushing out her wet hair.

"Night sweetie. Love you."

"I love you, too."

Violette walked across the hallway to her bedroom and opened her closet door with the intention of finding pajamas to wear. She settled her mind on a ribbed mauve tank top, and loose white sweat shorts. After dropping her towel and changing, she slid on her beige fluffy socks and plaited her hair. Tomorrow she would explore the island after having been here for a week and only unpacking her house.

"Alexa, play thunderstorm sounds."

#writing #wattpad #series #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe fic #rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction #drew starkey #jj maybank #obx #outer banks

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prentissvest · 1 year

Text

through the window

Kate bishop x reader

reader x wandanat(mums)

yn is used

1.4k words (not proof read)

warnings: swearing?

Kate bishop x reader

Wanda and nat are readers mums

Yn is used

I sit on my bed, reading a book that has been on my reading list for AGES but i have finally gotten to reading it and omg was it worth the wait. I sit engrossed in my book when I hear light tapping on my window. I look over and my face lights up with happiness as I see my favourite person in the world at my window. I come out of my haze when I realise that I need to open the window for her to actually be able to come into the room.

I open my window to see kate, my girlfriend of the past 5 months, my smile quickly turns to a look of worry as i see she winces as she pulls herself through the window cill, “kate what happened” she lifts her arm for me to see a gash on her ribs, i gasp as she timidly pulls her shirt back down. “We thought we had gotten all of the hydra agents but there was one that we must have missed and his bullet grazed me” Kate says nervously. “Ok lay down on the bed” i say with worry in my voice, “ i mean ok but i might not be able to do a whole lot at the minuet babe” i swat her arm lightly “not that you idiot im going to fix you up” “well thats not as fun” i hear as im walking into the bathroom to get the first aid kit.

I straddle kates hips while i put antiseptic and gause on her ribs, “i thought i told you to be careful” i say with sadness in my voice “i know, im sorry yn” see im not an avenger like kate, my mums wont let me apply until im ‘at least 18’ even though mama has been teaching me combat since i was 6 so that i would know how to defend myself.

Once ive made sure that kate is fully bandaged up i get comfy on my bed and let her cuddle into my side “wanna watch something” i ask “sure, you choose tho” so i pop on gilmore girls and rap my arms around kate still being wary of her injuries. About haalfway thought the episode i look down at kate to see that she had fallen asleep, i pull the blanket further over her and i let myself drift into a pieceful sleep.

Natashas pov

Wanda and i are preparing tea for our small family, wanda decided on making her and yns favourite dish, paprikash, i walk over and hug her from behind, since the battle with thanos wanda and i decided to move away from the compound, we will occasionally go on missions but we usually just go in for meetings and pich ideas, we wanted to make sure that yn has as much of a normal life as possible which we know will never be one hundred percent possible but she is everything wanda and i could have wished for, yelena is staying with us at the minuet as she recently got injured on a mission so she is staying in the guestroom (an often occurrence)

. “Baby please can you get yn so she can come and make the table, tea wil be ready soon” wanda asks with a smile on her face, i nod into wandas shoulder and make my way up the stairs to yns room, i hear the tv playing in the background so i slowly open the door but nothing could have prepared me for what i had seen, the new avenger cuddled up to my daughter, millions of options go through my mind but i decided to slowly back out of the room and get wanda to help me.

Yelena's pov

I sit on my bed scrolling on my phone when i smell wanda's paprikash waft through the air, i hum at the smell and think to myself ‘thank god wanda cooked tonight, i don't think i can handle another burned meal by my dear sister’

i begin to make my way down to the kitchen when i see yns door open so i decide to let her know that tea is almost ready but when i go through the door i see another person which i was not expecting “KATE BISHOP” i say maybe a little to loud, the pair begin to stir so i attempt to make it down the hallway as fast as i can. I get into the kitchen and I'm met by my sister and her wife. “Yn- bed- kate- asleep- door- open-” i attempt to say panting.

“See i wasn't seeing things wands'' natasha says to wanda, “ok we need to be adults about this, maybe yn didnt feel ready to tell us about the relationship at the minuet, i hope we didn't make her feel that way” wanda says beginning to overthink the situation. “ what do we do?'' Nat says. “Should we wake them up, the food is going to go cold and maybe if we all sit at the table together yn will feel better to talk about it” we begin to head up to yns room.

Yns pov

I begin to stir awake when i hear my girlfriends voice being shouted throughout my room, as my eyes adjust i see yelenas figure rush out of my doorway and dart down the hall, i begin to shake kate awake “kate, kate” “whattt” she grumbles, “yelena saw us, she's ran into the kitchen, you need to hide” “oh shit” kate says running into the bathroom, i don't know why i haven't told my parents, the are naturally accepting people, i think that hey will just be anxious of me dating an avenger, so i never told them but now i wish i have before.

I lay back down in bed and pretend to be asleep, i can hear them get closer to my room when i hear mum say “see it's just her, i'm not sure what you two are talking about” yelena walks over to the bathroom door after seeing that its locked and bangs loudly on the door, kate yelps loud enough for everyone to hear so i sit up in bed as kate walks out of the bathroom with her head hanging low. I see mum's mouth drop and I slowly step out of bed and walk over to Kate and look over to my family. “Mamas, this is Kate,” Kate waves nervously. “Right let's have tea '' Mama says while quickly escaping the room, I give a confused look to mum but she just shrugs and follows Mama out. “Kate bishop, so you're dating my niece-” “YELENA” mum shouts from the other room, Yelena puts her fingers to her eyes then to kate.

When we get to the kitchen it's awfully silent, I pull out a chair for Kate then I sit next to her, “so-” mama starts but I quickly interrupt her. “Im sorry, i know i should have told you but i was scared, i know that you and mama would accept me no matter what but, kate being an avenger we know that you both would probably not like the relationship but i really like her mamas, she would never hurt me or put me in danger” i say beginning to get out of breath. “Slow down tiger, we are happy that we found out and that you are happy dont get me wrong but we only want to make sure that you are safe, both of you” mum says “so your not angry” i say wearily “that you kept your relationship from us? No but sneaking someone into the house is another story” mama says with a slight smirk on her face. “Oh come on it's not like you and wanda didn't sneak around for ages' 'Yelena says which gets her a slap from mama. “But we would like to know more about you and kate's relationship, as well as getting to know kate better so, how did you both meet'' kate puts her hand in mine as she begins to tell the story, and sitting here, with my family and girlfriend it feels, right, complete, as kate talks i look at her nothing but love that i can feel. “And then i turned around the corner and spilt coffee all down her shirt so i took her to the nearest clothing shop and bought her a new shirt” kate says smiling at me “and i bought you a new coffee”

#kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #wandanat #fanfic #marvel #kate bishop imagine

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berberriescorner · 1 year

Note

No way rios precious daughters aren’t all daddy’s girls(much to y/n’s dismay)

Yes! You love seeing how he is with them. I’m picturing at least three girls. He’s outnumbered and deals with different personalities/age ranges.

Your oldest is almost a preteen and already boy crazy. In fact all three of them have their own little crushes at the moment.

Daddy, how old do I have to be before I can start dating? Your smile grows wide, as Rio’s eyes damn near pop out. He hears you snicker and mugs you. Shrugging your shoulders you join in, “Yes, daddy? How old does our sweet girl have to be,” you question smirking. “You have your whole life to worry about boys, darlin’. Focus on those books.” Your daughter huffs, “so basically never?” Rio chuckles, “I knew you were smart.” She huffs and walks away. You kiss your teeth, “you can’t stop her from growing up, Rio.” He gripes back, “I’m not.” Rolling your eyes, you finish, “hold on too tight, and we’ll be grandparents by the time she’s sixteen.” Rio gets the last word, “she’ll be a single mother then. Baby daddy won’t be here long enough to experience fatherhood. The OG got little baby though. Grandfathers make good father figures, do they not,” he smirks.

The middle child is your wild child. She’s big on loyalty and loves protecting her family/friends. Sound familiar? Little Rio in the making. The last parent/teacher conference ended in disaster. Things started off great. She was getting good grades and very respectful. However, she was having a bit of trouble keeping her hands to herself. “So you’re saying my child runs around hitting people on purpose,” you questioned her teacher. All set to apologize for her behavior. You were surprised when the teacher said, “not exactly.” The two of you looked at her, waiting for an explanation. “She tends to be very protective over her friends. Y/C/N has gotten into several fights. We have a zero tolerance policy. No matter who instigates, both children are disciplined.” Rio chuckled sarcastically, “let me get this straight, teach. My daughter’s getting reprimanded for defending people. Is that what you’re telling me, darlin’?” Your husband proceeded to tell the teacher where she could shove her zero tolerance policy. Trying not to laugh in her face, you practically had to drag Rio out of the classroom. Needless to say baby girl had to switch schools.

Then there is your sweet little baby girl. She’s a hustler like daddy. Knows how to sweet talk her way out of trouble. She’s so damn adorable that she has everyone wrapped around her finger. Including her sisters and especially daddy. The two of you had just gotten into it. All thanks to the little finesse queen herself. It started when she asked to watch YouTube on her iPad. “Momma, can I watched Paw Patrol on my pie-pad,” she asked batting her lashes innocently. She knew the answer, but dared to ask anyway. Momma wasn’t falling for that cute little baby face today. “Absolutely not. Remember the conversation we had last night? I told you no iPad today.” Your daughter tried getting you in your feels with a pout and lip quiver. “But, mommyyy.” You replied, “Don’t mommy me, little girl. You did this to yourself. I told you to turn that iPad off and go to bed last night. What did you do? Waited for me to leave and got right back on it. Then had the nerve to play like you were sleeping, when I came to take it from you.” Knowing you were right, she did what any good finesse Queen would do. She waited for you to busy yourself with cooking. Twenty minutes later, the food was ready. You called the girls to the table. “Where’s your baby sister? She’s ignoring me cause she mad, huh?” Your eldest informed you she was with Rio in his office. Supposedly she went in there to color while he got work done. It was cap and you knew it. Heading to his home office to retrieve them both for dinner. You weren’t shocked when you found little shady boots. There she was chilling in her daddy’s lap watching cartoons on his iPad. “Now you know good and well she’s not suppose to be on that. I don’t care if it’s yours, Christopher. No iPad includes anyone else’s. Just for that, neither one of you get dessert. Matter of fact since y’all besties and all. Sleepover in baby girl’s room. Daddy’s going to be sleeping on your floor! Yay!” You cut your eyes at Rio, turning to head back to the kitchen. You grumbled over your shoulder, “dinner is ready come and eat.”

Then there is you. Although you love being a momma to three beautiful girls. Your heart craves more children. “Rio let’s have one more baby.” He looks at you, trying to hold back a smile. “We got a house full already, mama. You sure you want another one?” You reply, “Yes! I want a little boy. You got your daddy’s girls. I want a momma’s boy.” Chuckling, Rio teases, “you feeling left out, mama? Don’t daddy always make time for you?” You tilt your head to the side, crossing your arms. “Boy, stop! I just want another baby. Nobody feeling left out. Come on let’s try for a boy. Please, daddy,” you beg in a baby voice. “You got a mama’s boy. What about Marcus, darlin’?” Your lips poke out, arms still crossed. “I don’t get to keep Marcus though. I have to share him with his momma,” you giggle. Moving closer to him, you wrap your arms around Rio. Standing on your toes, you leave kisses along the side of his neck. Kissing up to his ear, you whisper, “pretty please, daddy? Think of all the fun we could have trying to conceive.” Rio looks around the house, “everybody’s at a sleepover right?” You nod your head yes. “Bring your fine ass on,” Rio groans, dragging you toward the bedroom.

Sorry if this was a bit long. I kind of just ran with it. Hope you like it! I don’t usually do HC’s 😆.

#berberriescorner #berberries asks #i love my mutuals😍#omg i love thissss #asks open #fic inspo #rio good girls #good girls rio #daddy rio #sweet asks #rio x black!reader #rio x woc!reader #rio x reader #rio good girls fanfiction

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justallihere · 5 months

Note

GIRLIE YOU BETTER BE READY TO READ THIS ESSAY!!!!!!

I love how sentient the shadows are in this chapter. Its like they have a mind of their own and I'm here for it. Those shadows are hers now, not Xadens LMAO Mira's eye is going to twitch every time she sees them hanging around her baby sister

so satisfying we got to read how Pierce screamed to death and Xaden needed to relive that memory to keep himself in check

Vi basically kicking Mira out and admitting the room is also his??? I bet X was jumping for joy when he heard that

X is literally ready to shut down/hurt anyone who remotely upsets his wife. He has no fucks to give, doesn't care if it's her bsf, sister, or brother. anyone can be on his shit list and on the flip side, make her happy and he will do whatever that person asks lmao

SO MUCH PHYSICAL TOUCH IM CRYING

The hair conversation had my heart aching, X affirming that its V's body and its okay to be upset about the prospect of it being cut against her will!!!! (wonder if V is getting whiplash from the venin convo and how ppl took away her autonomy bc it's her body, her signet, her choices)

I can't even imagine the bickering that X and Tairn were having and how tired Sgayel must have been listening to these two

Did X's heart break when V thought she wasn't worth it and wouldn't come to save her? Liam really did keep her going and was so confident that X would save HER

She’d misunderstood him once before on this, and he couldn’t let her again

SOBBING!!!! THEY TOUCHED FOREHEADS. Honestly, that can be so much more intimate/impactful than a kiss imo

“Like. . .” He turned his head just enough so that his nose skimmed her cheek. “Everything has shifted since I met you. You are the center of my world—you’re the thing I orbit around. Of course I would come for you. I would do anything for you. You’re everything to me, Vi.” “Don’t—“ A choked sob got caught in her throat. “Don’t say that.” “Why? It’s the truth

“I love you, Violet Sorrengail,” he admitted. “I’m in love with you. You can’t get rid of me, in this life or any other. I’ll follow you through them all.”

In every universe, they are soulmates. I will die on that hill!!! That thing in my chest ACHED when I read this part. I think I've re-read it at least 5 times 😭😭😭😭 He finally said I LOVE YOU TO HER. He didnt and wouldn't allow any room for misunderstanding!!!!! Its all on V now!!! and thats okay!!! X will be patient bc he loves her

Was this the chapter where he kisses her forehead and wipes her tears away 🥺 I love them so much, your honor

HE GOT TO SLIP HIS HAND UNDER HER SHIRT!!!!!! UGH MY HEART I CAN'T WITH THEM

Rhi is so snarky and I love her for it. She might be X's #1 hater (Mira is up there) and I am here for it. I hope we get to see these two bicker

WALK HIM LIKE A DOG SIS, WALK HIM LIKE A DOG

He would do whatever she asked

Xaden is so soft in this chapter and I love you for showing this side of him

He caught her as she buried her face against his shoulder. “Hi, Sloane,” he said gently.

Everyone loves/fears Vi more than him and X is fully aware and okay with it

“Is that my entry fee?” Xaden asked dryly. “My wife?”

I feel like everyone is going to be hovering around Vi once she is up and walking around (We all know Xaden is going to LITERALLY be her shadow)

Imogen and the one kitchen lady (forget her name) will be constantly feeding her and fretting that shes gotten too thin and needs to eat.

In summary: FOREHEAD KISSES GALORE, THE CUDDLING, X finally sleeping bc his wife is safe and home?????

you are amazing and i love this fic and you <3

I am always ready for all of your comments let’s do this

Mira has been around Xaden and Violet for two seconds and she’s over it. Like why is he looking at her baby sister that way? Why does Violet like it? Why is she defending him? Make it stop!!

Violet didn’t want anything to do with Pierce’s death, she just wanted to go home, but Xaden enjoyed it for sure

Listen Xaden doesn’t care. Has never cared. Won’t ever care. If anyone upsets Violet, their relationship to her is inconsequential, he won’t let it happen 😭

Xaden is about to learn the hard way that it’s Violet’s body and choice when she starts doing shit he doesn’t want her to do. Start praying for him

Sgaeyl having to intervene between Xaden and Tairn was NOT on her bingo card and yet here she is. Mediating fights between her mate and her rider over some tiny human she won’t even admit she likes

The forehead touch! The forehead kiss! The love confession! Xaden touching her skin directly to ground them both! I’m unwell!

Thank you ily 🩷🩷🩷

#storm in the quiet

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websterss · 2 years

Note

TY FOR ACCEPTING THE BLURBS💗✨

How about a lil blurb for Samara’s first birthday?🥹

Someone asked me about doing blurbs for this fic and I said yes but never heard from them again 😂😂💀

Anyway…okay okay okay. I don’t think the core four would want anything so big. Since they almost got killed I figured they’d want a small family birthday party. I feel like Chad would go out of his way to ensure that Samara had the best birthday, even going as far as like dressing up as her as her favorite character from a movie

“Did you get the-“

“Yes!” Sam smiled reassuringly.

“What about the-“

“Already bought.”

“Did you buy plastic-“

“Right here.” Sam lifted the package up.

Your shoulders relaxed.

“Hey momma bear everything’s gonna be fine. The cake and cupcakes are in the fridge. The food is done and ready to be served. You have nothing to worry about. See look that little rascal is living her life smashing two blocks together.” You look to find Samara on her playmate. Her curious little eyes venturing around the house. Hands smashing her building blocks together. You close your eyes and laugh about it because it was funny. It was humorous and adorable and seeing her mindlessly play with her toys made you want to see the world through her eyes. Cause everything that you’ve seen was something you wanted no memory of.

“Is Ethan coming?”

“Yeah he said he was on his way.” You furrow your brows. Pulling your phone out to look over what he had said to you.

“This is nice.” You look up to Sam.

“Yeah?” You quirk a smile.

“Yeah. It’s been a year now. Since…everything. Since Ethan came back. It’s nice.” Sam shrugged. “I’m sure Samara loves having her dad around too.” She gestured to the one year old.

“She does. If I gotta be honest I think she’s grown more attached to him than me.” You laugh but another voice steps into the kitchen entryway.

“Who’s gotten more attached?”

Ah the man of the hour.

“You.” You push off the counter and go around to greet him. He gives you a sweet kiss, you’re left sighing in his embrace. Many he promised he’d keep on giving you. His smile widens as your heads press against each others.

“What about me?” He laughs bringing your conversation back into focus.

“Just that Samara’s grown attached to you more.”

Ethan furrows his brows. “What? No she hasn’t.” He denies.

“Oh…I don’t know she’s seems pretty attached.” Sam’s mouth forms into and ‘o’ shape then starts beaming over your hips. You both whip your heads at the girl crawling over to you two. You scoff out a laugh. Your hand patting Ethan’s chest as he looks at the baby in disbelief.

“Oh yeah…definitely not attached to you.” You tease him, but nearly melt at the sight of him ushering her closer with his hands, before picking her up.

“Dude you’re making me look bad in front of momma.” He shakes his head at the baby, chewing on her fist now. “You love us both, equally.” He dips his head to blow a raspberry on her chubby cheeks. The gurgles and giggles melodiously playing throughout the kitchen. You press the sides of your hands against your lips. The smile you adorned couldn’t be wiped away. “It’s your birthday. It’s your birthday. We gonna party like it’s your birthday!” His voice raises in pitch. He raises Samara’s baby fist high as if he was guiding her in a waltz.

“Thank you for not singing the rest in front of her.” You nudge him with a stern mom look. Then start making faces at your baby girl. She reached out for your cheeks, gripping them tight as you go to plant a big ole kiss on her lips.

“She’s one.” Ethan defends.

“She’s in her developmental stages. I don’t need you scarring her innocent ears. No we don’t do we.” You coo at her.

“Let’s get the party started bitches!”

You deadpan as you look to Ethan, then Sam. “Spoke to soon…” You turn in time to find Mindy and Chad making their way over to you guys.

“We’re not late are we?” Mindy looks to everyone in the kitchen. Tara walking back from using the restroom.

“Nope just in time actually. Parties all here now.” You reassures.

“Great cause I brought the good stuff…” You imagine he was about to place a 12 pack on the counter but stifle your laughter as you observe the goods more closely

“Juice pouches…” Everyone starts to crack up.

“Caprisuns to be exact.” Chad corrects with the point of his finger. “Which we will drink around the birthday girl on her very special day.” Chad makes a gimme gimme motion. After you reprimanded him for the whole his baby scenario. Chad had somewhat eased up on just blunt out taking her out of Ethan’s arms and letting Samara make the choice. She reached out for her uncle and Ethan helped her go into Chads arms this time. Chad still had his moments, his jabs that would piss you off, but within the year, it was slow progress, but progress nonetheless. The two greeted each other with the slight raising of their chins. You looked away at the verbal less interaction. Smiling because all felt good and well for once.

“And…when she does doze off due to her sugar intake.” Chad begins. Mindy comes over and covers the baby’s ears, scared he’d curse in front of her. “This is what the grownups will have…” Chad had readjusted his hold on her and with his free hand. He lifted a whole bottle of liquor.

A chorus of ‘yeahs’ and ‘woos’ exclaim throughout the kitchen. The birthday girl looking amongst her little family with curiosity. She displayed her excitement as well with faint claps of her hands. The action causing you all to laugh fondly at how precious she truly was.

ASDFGHJk 😖🥺

#‣ julie answers #seolaseoul #scream vi:hcs

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hughiecampbelle · 1 year

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Keloid (Baby!Roy x Roman Roy )

Character/s: Roman, Logan

Word Count: 1,586

Requested: hi! can i get broken glass, gauze, “i missed you”, “You’re covered in blood”, and “look at me” with baby roy and connor or roman please? 😊❤️ - @thedarkqueen

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: Screaming I love this request so much!!! This was just perfect my love, so angsty it's my face!!!! I really hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Succession Masterlist / REQUESTS ARE OPEN

You find him at the bar. He seems smaller. His shoulders are rounded, concave, but not tense. His stitches have been reopened. He lets himself smile, just for a moment, before recovering. It’s a new feeling, this weightlessness. Airy. he drinks a dirty martini. You don’t want to interrupt, intrude. This is his moment. Everyone else is gone. Gloating, celebrating, or, like your brother, like the two of them, facing a future of uncertainty. There’s nothing left. That was it. You’re faced with the same dilemma, to a lesser degree. You feared that promise would leave Kendall hollow. Rotting. He left before you could catch him, check his pulse. They both did. Your sister off in her own world, becoming the obedient woman she was always destined to be. It hurt to think about them, about this. You could hold it, this ache, this knowing that things would never be the same. You wanted to hold on a little longer. Selfishly, you missed them. Even as he sits before you, sipping his drink, he seems so far away already. You take the seat next to him, making him jump. You don’t look at him and he doesn’t look at you, instead your eyes meet the bottles lined up on the shelf. Little armies, ready to defend. You order your usual, grateful that he hasn’t gotten up. He decided to stay despite your presence. He clears his voice once, twice, but the words never come. The silence sits sweetly between you, making itself comfortable. Your chin falls. You can feel them burning under his gaze, your hands. He doesn’t have to say a thing. You know exactly what he’s thinking about.

The scars were burning white lines across your fingers, your palms and the back of your hands. Some lay flat, others are chunky, rounded, as if trying to claw away from you. No matter what you did to try to get rid of them, they refused to budge. They stared up at you, at everyone you came in contact with, begging to be noticed, to be seen. Instinctively you flexed your hands, feeling the tightness of the skin. The lines go up your wrists, tapering off. Here and there, at your elbow, your forearm, your biceps, sprinkled across your arms. Mostly though, they cut through your hands and wrists. You were shredded. He called you that once Logan. Shredder. As if it were funny. After all these years, you still bore the anger of your father. You wore it like a prize, as if surviving him were something to show off. This was your medal for a shitty childhood. He was gone and you were still looking at them, feeling them, stared at by peers and strangers alike. A freakshow, he once said so callously you’d forgotten how to breathe. Sometimes you get lost in the scars, reliving that day over and over. He thought you wouldn't remember. He thought you were too young.

The bartender slides your glass across the bar. Again you flex, before feeling the icy sweat of the tumbler. I missed you, you whisper, before realizing, before catching yourself. I was only gone for a few minutes, but. . . The rest of your sentence clatters to the floor. But the three of you left. You were fighting. You couldn’t be near it. When you came back they were gone, Matsson standing in their place. He doesn’t have a response, eyes cast down, watching your fingers clutch at the glass. You used to hide them, your hands, when kids at school first started noticing. When they started saying things. The adults, choosing ignorance, never said a word. Not when you were back at your desk a few days later, gauze wrapped childishly around them. It was Roman who’d done it. They were tight and flimsy and red had seeped through by the end of the day. No one who could have done anything did anything. No one stepped in. no one asked. They just knew. They knew and they let him get away with it. He wasn’t a God, he was an angry man. The world had been mixing the two up for centuries. They always hurt your hands. You tried to write, to play, but it was too difficult. So you sat there and watched the paper white of the tissue, squeezing them, making sure they still belonged to you. You catch yourself doing that now, too. Logan took a lot from you. Too much. You were convinced he had the power to take body parts, too.

He orders another. Remember, he starts, but never finishes. Yeah, I do. He never meant for it to happen. At least, not at first. Logan never raised a hand to the eldest three, something you would never understand. You would never get an answer for. He just did, like he did a lot of things. You weren’t doing anything. Not that you can remember a lot before. You were in the living room, doing what children do, playing, maybe making a mess? Maybe being too loud? You were never sure what kind of trivial thing would set him off, what would make his blood boil. He couldn’t stand it. He could always find the faults in you. He slapped you across the face. Hard, with the back of his hand. Hard enough to leave your cheek tingling. Hard enough for your little body to sway, falling into the coffee table. The glass shattered under you. You tried to catch yourself, save yourself, but that only made things worse. Shards embedded themselves into your skin, in your clothes and hair. Blood began to pool on the white carpet. Shocked, you could only sit there, looking at the ruins. He stood above you, disgusted. You’re covered in blood, you remember him spitting, like it was your fault. Like you had chosen this. Slowly the adrenaline wears off, the sting begins to spread, your own cry foreign in your ears. It sounded like a wounded animal. He left you like that, muttering to himself about the scene you’ve caused. That whine still haunts you, coming to you in nightmares. I did a lousy job, he admits, suddenly sounding tired. You were a kid, too Rome. . .

Look at me. Bleary eyes, tears welling up before you can stop them, a blurry figure crouches before you. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting like that, only that the tingling in your cheek is gone. You haven’t moved, scared, or cried. There is so much blood. So much red. Like a pool, you remember thinking. You’re not sure where he came from, when he got home, only that he had a certainty in his voice that made you listen. Don’t look down, look at me, okay? Slowly, he helps you up, careful not to touch your wounds. He leads you to the bathroom where he sits you up on the counter, face to face with you. You’ve stopped crying, instead whimpering. Everything smelled of iron. Metallic. You watch him lock the door, knowing there was always a chance he’d come back again. He warns you this is going to hurt, and you nod, wanting to be brave for your big brother. Shaking hands, he starts to pick the pieces out. Glittery pieces clatter and tinkle in the sink. What he can’t reach, he plucks with tweezers. You bite your tongue, stopping yourself from crying out anymore. You’re not sure how many times he pulls glass from your skin, only that there is a small pile in the sink when he’s done. See, that wasn’t so bad. His face is sweaty, his forehead creased, though his voice remains light. You smile at him, sniffling, showing him that it didn’t hurt at all. That you’re a big kid, you can handle this.

The alcohol feels warm on any empty stomach. That sterile smell reminds you of the iodine he washed your arms with, trying to prevent infection. He wrapped you up like a mummy, unsure of what else to do. Some were deeper wounds, others only surface level. This was his mess, his fault, not yours. Leaving you alone with him, he should have known better. Now he sits, years later, feeling that terrible guilty feeling in the back of his throat. He should have done more. He should have done better. That day will be embedded in his mind for the rest of his life. And yet, neither of you have anything to say. There’s nothing left. You know this is the last time you’ll see him for a long time. You all need your space, to cool off, to find your own path, whatever that means. He gives them his card, paying for your drink, too. Another apology. He’s been apologizing to you since that day, trying to make up for it. He never needed to, though. You never blamed him. That day he was your hero, your super star big brother saving you from your father. He made sure your wounds healed, changing the bandages every day. He was the one who cleaned up the table, who rolled up the rug, unable to stand looking at it a second longer. Disgusted by Logan’s behavior. He still is, your hero, your star, your big brother, even if he doesn’t feel like it. Even if he slips off the bar stool without a word, leaving you behind now that it’s safe. Now that your father can’t get you. He always will be.

#requested #writing #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession x reader

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theonetruegnome · 2 months

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Leah's trauma

Ok, so I decided to publish some backstory for one of my Shifted critters, felt it was a bit unsatisfying to leave out. So, here we go.

As I said, Leah's friends are the most cherished thing in her life, and there's a reason for that.

She never had any in her first year of school. Or her second. Or third. She was bullied for being different and having no friends off the bat when she arrived. This made her more reserved and anxious, making people like her less. She stopped eating much at school or at home and lost a lot of weight, at least 5 pounds. Her parents were rightfully concerned, but she told them she was fine and just worried about school stuff; in reality, she had begun to hate her own reflection. After a while she started to hurt herself. Not badly, nonono, she was too scared of seriously hurting herself to do that, but she would scratch and stab into her hands with sharp pencils or compasses or write on her fur with felt-tip pen, things like 'idiot', 'weirdo', 'stupid', 'ugly', 'useless', 'disgrace' and so on. She would beat herself up, slapping herself across the face and punching herself in the gut. She thought something must be wrong with her to be bullied that badly, that she was the problem.

One day Leah was just sitting alone at lunch when someone dragged her off the bench and sat down in her spot. Nobody cared what happened to the weird girl, nobody defended her. People even cheered. And she just... snapped. The bully heard a scuffling and turned around to see Leah had gotten up. She readied herself to deliver both a verbal and physical beatdown to the loser, when she saw Leah's face and recoiled in horror. She had started crying and laughing at the same time, squeezing her head between her hands while cackling like a madman. She was shaking all over and sobbing but she had this massive grin over her face. People ran away as fast as they could to the walls, afraid she would rush them or attack or something. Then she began to talk;

'Hehehe! That's it... *sniff* I'm done... *Sniff* You've all been so awfu-hu-hul... And I just can't!.. heh... I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMOOORRREEE!!'

She ran out the door and disappeared into the school. The staff found her the under the teacher's desk in an empty classroom, crying her eyes out and muttering to herself,

'Let me die. Please, just let it end, let me die, please! I don't care about anything anymore, I don't care, just make it stop, please, just kill me!'

Her parents found out when they got a phone call from the school saying Leah had had an 'incident'. Her father immediately drove over when he heard the specifics so he could take her home, while her mother filed a complaint over the phone, said they were negligent and uncaring of their daughter and demanded she be pulled entirely from the curriculum. The staff may have protested, she couldn't just leave from her studies in the middle of the year! But the idea of forcing poor small Leah to go back to her tormentors, the girl sobbing into her father's chest, arms wrapped around him like they were going to drag her back into the building, was probably thought to be too cruel. A month later, her parents found jobs in a new town (Fracture hills(Where the shifted critters all live)) and they moved away (Leah had no friends to miss).

So the cub was now free of her academic prison, and she began to put her fractured self together again. She allowed her parents to nurse her and coax more food onto her plate. She opened up to them and stopped allowing herself to struggle alone. She showed them what she had done to her body, the scratches and stabs, the bruises and marker marks that patchworked her body. When they saw them, her mother started crying and her father couldn't help but immediately run up to hold his cub like when she was a baby. Mrs Lensbear joined in and soon all three were holding each other and saying how sorry they were, that Leah never opened up, that her mother couldn't protect her, that her father hadn't just asked her, even once, 'Are you sure you're ok?' They stayed like that until Leah fell asleep, lulled down by the steady breathing and heartbeat of the bigger bodies holding her.

As well as her health improving, her lifelong love of photography that all but died when she started school sprang back into existence, and she began to re-notice the beauty of the world she captured on the film, though she still used a cheapo target camera and wouldn't call herself a 'photographer' in any sense. That was until her uncle Rupert gave her her first professional camera for her eighth birthday. That was the first time she truly felt she belonged somewhere in the universe, that she felt she knew herself, way deep down inside her soul. She even started a progress album with her parents. Inside is a picture from every week since she left the school. The frightened broken bear on the first page looks completely unrelated to the smiling happy girl on the latest page. They still document every week, no matter what.

And the reason she is always wearing her cardigan is because her mother and father both knitted It together for her after the cafeteria incident and it makes her feel secure and happy.

So that's that! Just a bit of backstory for you! Any questions? Just ask!

#character trauma #poor baby #Leah lensbear #shifted critters #swap au #bobby bearhug

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tropes-and-tales-archives · 5 months

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More Precious Than Rubies: Part 4b

This is an alternate timeline story that has a Rafael Barba track and a Sonny Carisi track. The two paths split off in part 3.

WC: 3390

TW: Angst; end of relationship drama.

AN: The prompt was "I miss her so damn much, and it’s killing me that she’s gone!"

Sonny wasn’t sure that there was anything more he could do, but he thought about you all the time. As a public defender, there was always a good chance that you’d drift through the precinct, your heels clicking on the tiled floor and your jaw set and ready to brawl with Barba. When it happened, Sonny could only watch in admiration at how relentless you were.

And if he enjoyed the way your various twill or Italian wool skirts fit you like a glove, no one needed to know about that other than god and the priest who heard his confession.

He didn’t have anyone to talk to, really. Amanda was a lost cause, too wrapped up in her own issues. And Sonny wondered if she’d ever really loved anyone or been in a real relationship. She seemed to go through men – no shame – but there was no common ground between that and a committed relationship.

The best support he had was Bella and, god help him, her fiancée Tommy. Sonny had never been much of a fan of Tommy’s, but the man had gotten his life in order after a stint in jail for drug charges. He worked hard and loved Bella, which was the best Sonny could hope for his sister. And now that she was pregnant, he hoped it would be enough.

Sonny went over to the couple’s place one Saturday night to cook for them. Tommy was a lost cause in the kitchen, and Bella was well into the third trimester – complete with swollen feet and a ravenous appetite for their ma’s chicken marsala recipe. Sonny was only too happy to oblige.

After dinner (said chicken marsala, a mixed green salad, and crusty rolls – all wolfed down by Bella with an appetite that made Sonny smile), the trio sat in the tiny living room and sipped the rest of the red wine that Sonny had brought. Bella helped herself to half a glass; Sonny had objected, but Bella had given him an earful about how her doctor said that half a glass of red had heart benefits that outweighed the negligible potential bad side effects, and furthermore, if he was such a fucking expert on pregnancy, he was more than welcome to carry the future Baby Sullivan for the next month and a half. Sonny had looked to Tommy for support halfway through her tirade, but the man wisely averted his eyes and carefully studied the label of the wine bottle until Bella was spent.

There was a heavy silence for a moment, then Sonny’s younger sister asked, as if she hadn’t just yelled at him, how Sonny was doing. Just like when they were kids: screaming and pinching each other one minute, friends the next.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but Bella saw right through it.

“Liar. You look tired. You sleeping?”

Sonny shrugged. “Usually. Some of the stuff I see at work makes it hard.”

Tommy made a sympathetic noise – he had been assaulted repeatedly by his own parole officer and was in therapy as a result, so he knew at least a taste of what SVU dealt with.

“You need someone to go home to,” Bella declared with authority.

Sonny winced and tried to hide it behind a sip of wine, but his sister caught it.

“You seeing anyone?” she asked. “It’s been a while since you got dumped.”

He ducked his head and considered not telling Bella about your recent reappearance in his life but decided to go ahead and tell her. She’d find out anyway, and maybe she could offer some insight from the female perspective. When you’d broken up with him over a year ago, Sonny had leaned heavily on his younger sister, crying to her about the loss of you.

So he told her all the news: how you marched into the precinct one day as a public defender, how you went to lunch with him and accused him of emotionally cheating with Amanda, how you made polite small talk with him and sometimes looked sad when you saw him. How he didn’t know what to do now.

“She probably still has my number blocked,” he finished. “And I doubt she’ll go to another lunch with me. I see her all the time now but can’t get through to her. I wish…I wish I could just let her know how I really feel.” He sighed and scrubbed his hands down across his face. “I miss her so damn much, and it’s killing me that she’s gone!”

Tommy made that sympathetic clucking again, and Bella looked sad too. You had only met Sonny’s entire family once, but you’d spent time with Bella a handful of times after the two of you clicked instantly. Sonny had pictured a future where the two of you were married, and Bella and Tommy were married, and your respective children could grow up together, cousins as close as siblings.

“Well, if you can’t talk to her or call her, you could always write her a letter,” Tommy offered. He rarely spoke up at Carisi gatherings, and both Sonny and Bella looked at him in surprise. Tommy shrugged. “You know, at least you can get your feelings out on paper. You don’t have to send the letter. But if you do….” He trailed off, uncomfortable.

Bella cocked her head at her fiancée. “That’s actually a good idea,” she said, and Tommy beamed. They both turned and looked at Sonny expectantly.

“Maybe,” he conceded.

“C’mon,” Bella wheedled. She punched him lightly in the arm. “Girls love romantic gestures like that. And who writes love letters anymore?”

“Maybe,” he repeated, but he was already composing the opening lines.

-----

He typed out all of the drafts on his personal laptop, revising and rewriting and sometimes deleting and starting over entirely. It took him a week to get a final version ready.

He thought about Bella’s line about romantic gestures and stopped at a stationary store. He bought some nice, heavy paper edged in a dark blue that reminded him of the sweater you were wearing when he first met you. He bought a nice pen too, and then he got to work.

If you hadn’t gone to that lunch with him and opened up a bit about where you had been when you broke up with him, Sonny would never even consider writing you a letter. But you had, and it had given him a slender bit of hope that you’d be open to hearing more from him.

It took a few tries. His cursive was out of practice, and the first few attempts resulted in misspellings and ink blots. He kept writing it out until it was perfect though, even if his hand was cramped and aching from writing so much. Bella was right – who wrote love letters anymore? If he couldn’t give you anything else, he could at least give you one, perfect love letter. You deserved that much, at least.

*******

You were feeling great – you had spent the morning at a sexual cybercrimes conference. You had seen Barba, implied that his coworker O’Dwyer was smarter than him, and then delighted at how offended he looked. Of all the ADAs you had to deal with on a regular basis, Barba was your favorite to wind up. You practically skipped back to your office, where a mountain of new cases waited for you.

You shut the door to your office and shed your suit jacket in the airless little room. You kicked off your heels and slipped into a pair of sandals and settled into your chair.

You started with the interoffice mail: standard memos and policy changes and an updated public defender contact list. There was a retirement card being passed around for an older paralegal who was ready to hang it all up and move to Boca Raton.

You moved on to your regular mail. There was the usual junk that slipped past your admin. A plea for a donation from Fordham. Some letters from past clients.

At the bottom of the stack was a manila envelope with your name printed carefully across the front. No return address – another client, probably. You opened it and slid out another envelope of heavy, creamy paper. Your name was written across the face in familiar handwriting. Your stomach dipped when you recognized it. Sonny.

You thought about tearing it open then and there, but you got a call to go to the 5th precinct, so you tucked it into your satchel. It was probably safer to read it at home anyway.

-----

The letter sat in your bag like unexploded ordinance, but you got through the day. You rushed home, skipped dinner, and poured yourself a tumbler of wine to the brim. You settled onto your couch, took a deep breath, and opened the letter.

The paper was heavy stock and gorgeous. The handwriting was careful – nicer than Sonny’s usual scrawled signature or block printed notes from college. He’d obviously put time and thought into whatever he wanted to say. So you took another breath, took a few deep swallows of wine, and read it. It said:

You probably think that we first met when we both went bowling with our mutual friends, but that wasn’t the first time I’d ever seen you. The first time I saw you, we were in the same class a semester earlier – Investigative Criminal Procedures. It was a huge lecture hall, and you always sat about five rows ahead of me. Of course I noticed you, because you are beautiful, but it was a fight you had with the professor that made me realize how much of that beauty came from deep within you. Maybe you remember? Professor Graham had some controversial thoughts about search and seizure, and you shot your hand up, didn’t bother to wait for him to call on you, and then you launched into an impassioned tirade that tore every one of his points apart.

My first thought after that class was that if I ever was in trouble with the law, I was going to hire you as my lawyer. My second thought was that I was certain that I loved you.

When I finally met you that night at bowling, you see, I already was in love with you. And you were so friendly and happy, laughing at your own terrible score – I only fell harder. When I went home that night, I made a vow that I’d make you mine, and for a blessed while, I had. But I lost my way, and I lost you in the process.

I don’t want to dwell on what I did wrong because I replay it every day of my life. I just want you to know that I regret, every day, how I neglected you. How I took you for granted. How I assumed that you’d wait around for me to get my act together. How I didn’t put you first or make you feel how special you are to me. I’ll always regret how I failed you.

But I want to say all the things now that I should have told you when we were together.

You are, as I said, beautiful, both inside and out. You always manage to make my heart stop every time I see you, whether you’re in your work suits or in your comfortable pajamas.

You have so many amazing things going for you. You’re easily the smartest person I know, and you have both book smarts and common sense. You’re always able to get to the easiest solution to a problem. You’re abilities in the courtroom as a public defender just proves this.

You have an amazing sense of humor. You always seem to be able to find the humor in the situation, and you always made me laugh. And you manage to tease people in a way that builds them up and doesn’t tear them down. It’s a gift.

You have an amazing heart. You always show care for your clients, and before that, care for your friends, for me, and even for the strangers who cross your path. You never seem to judge – you give the homeless man money with the same love you give to your friends when they need you. I love that about you. You don’t make people work for your love: you just give it freely, even when they don’t deserve it. You certainly gave it to me far longer than I deserved it.

If I had to describe you in a single word, it’d be “rock.” You were always my steady foundation, my touchstone for when things seemed too hard. You supported me when I wanted to give up on law school. You supported me when the NYPD was moving me from precinct to precinct and I wanted to give up on being a detective. You saw me at my worst moments and kept me grounded and gave me hope. Sometimes I felt my faith failing me, but I never stopped believing in you. And no matter what happens, I never will.

More than anything, I want to you know – really know – that I loved you then and I love you still. I know why you probably won’t believe that, but it is true. I know I didn’t give you enough proof of that fact, and I regret it. I know that you think there was another woman with a place in my heart, but that wasn’t the case and still isn’t the case. How could there be room for anyone else there, when you took it so utterly and completely? And when you have it still?

I hope this letter did not upset you. It was not my intention if it did. These are all things I should have said a long time ago, when I still had you, and it’s no one’s fault but my own that I have to write them down and send them to you now.

If nothing else, I want you to know that I loved you completely then, that I love you completely now, and for the rest of my life, I’ll love you just as much. And as such, I want you to be happy, no matter what that looks like.

It was signed, “love always, Sonny.” But you could barely read it through the tears streaming down your face.

You probably read it twelve more times before you went to bed, and since you were unable to sleep, you read it twelve times more.

-----

You saw Sonny across the courtroom a week later, but he just nodded at you and gave you a small smile that didn’t reach his bright blue eyes. You nodded back and smiled.

You were working on your own response, in letter form to keep it true to his own letter. You approached it a lot like your law work – you wrote out an outline and built it from there.

It took you a few weeks to craft the perfect response, and you carried it in your bag for another week. You didn’t want to mail it to him. You figured, after the way you’d dumped him, you owed him a hand-delivered letter. It was the least you could do, especially after he made the ballsy move of even reaching out at all. And you had to admit that there was something romantic about getting a love letter. It was a stark contrast to your last attempt at dating, when a guy you’d gone on a first date with texted you a week later with an unimpressive dick pic.

Then you got a call about a client in the 16th who was arrested and about to face arraignment in a day. You checked your bag and made sure the letter was there. If you saw Sonny, you vowed to hand it to him then and there.

********

Sonny was tortured by that stupid letter. You never responded. He knew deep-down that you might ignore it, but he had some stubborn hope that you’d reach out to him. He had a stupid, recurring fantasy where you rushed over to his apartment in the middle of the night after reading his letter, tearfully admitting that you still loved him too.

He saw you once in court, and you nodded at him in greeting but didn’t say anything. He resigned himself to finally admitting that it was over. But at least you knew how he felt. Maybe it gave you some comfort or closure.

-----

It was another grey day in Manhattan. Well, it was July and sunny, but Sonny didn’t feel particularly up to his nickname. Amanda was just starting to show in her surprise pregnancy, and she was an irritable, nauseous mess. Fin and Liv had collared a potential serial date rapist who was preying on Hudson University students, and he sat in the interrogation room after asking for a lawyer.

The elevator dinged, and Sonny heard the familiar click of heels. He felt his stomach drop while his heart soared, an uncomfortable feeling. The feeling of possibility that would probably just disappoint him.

You breezed past him and Amanda and strode into the interrogation room where Barba was waiting. Sonny heard first some low voices, then louder ones as you and Barba got warmed up and then traded snappy retorts as you tried to find a compromise. Everyone, including Sonny, knew how to read the situation now: if you marched out with your head tilted and Barba strolled out scowling, it was no deal. If you marched out with a smile and Barba strolled out scowling, there was a deal.

Today? You marched out with your head tilted in defiance, and Barba fell in step with you for a few strides, trying to salvage some deal. Sonny smiled to see it. Barba never seemed flustered by anything, but you had a way of making the ADA seem rattled. You just shook your head at him….until your eyes fell on Sonny.

You started to smile, but your eyes slid over to Amanda and Sonny saw it all in slow motion. He saw your smile falter as you took in his partner’s pregnant belly, and he saw you make a giant assumption about who made it that way.

“Shit,” he muttered, and he watched you practically sprint out of the bullpen. Barba, for his part, looked confused and started to follow but stopped. Sonny went after you and nearly caught up thanks to his long legs, and even though you kept jamming the elevator button, he managed to get his hand in and stop the doors.

He called your name, but you shot him an angry look through tears that were welling in your eyes.

“Let go of the door,” you said through gritted teeth. Your voice had a shaky quality as you fought the urge to cry. “Just let me go.”

“No,” he replied. “I know what you’re thinking….”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking,” you retorted. You punched the button on the elevator a few more times for good measure, then you reached into your bag. “I’m thinking that I’m a fucking idiot. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“It’s not like that,” he pleaded, and he felt his own eyes fill with tears. You were so distressed; he just wanted to reach out and hold you, but when he extended a hand, you visibly flinched from it.

“I don’t care what it’s like!” you wailed, and you pulled a folded piece of paper – no, pieces of paper – out of your bag. You tore them in half, and then again and again and again until you couldn’t tear anymore. Then you threw them at him, and Sonny realized that the confetti was your reply to him. Or had been. He knelt to pick up the pieces of torn paper, and the elevator, finally released, closed its doors and carried you out of the building.

He couldn’t chase after you. You were too hurt by what you saw – or thought you’d seen – and he was on such thin ice anyway. All he could do was gather up the tiny pieces of paper from the dirty precinct floor.

And take them back to his desk. And start to put them back together.

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #tropes and tales

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 2 years

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Imagine Dame and his gf have been together for a year and a few months. somewhere along the line, gf opens up to Dame about her past relationships and eventually tells him her traumatic experiences with an abusive ex. Dame is angry, but he really just tries his best to make sure gf is ok and comfortable with him.

fast forward a few weeks later, gf is out and about shopping, and coincidentally runs into the abusive ex. he tries to butter her up a bit and start conversation, but gf isn’t having it. she tries to walk away from him, but he grabs her wrist and aggressively tries to talk some “sense” into her. by the time someone intervenes, there’s a dark purple bruise left on her skin.

when she gets home, she’s a little shaken up but refuses to tell Dame what happened. Dame being Dame and having his strong instincts, he reaches out to grab her, but she immediately snatches her injured wrist away. Dame gently gets ahold of her arm and pulls her sleeve up, revealing the injury.

“baby…..who the fuck did this?”

She’s looking everywhere but at him. She even has fear in her eyes. It has Damion beyond worried and his anger is creeping up on him like a monster from the shadows. She’s spooked about something. Whatever it is has to do with that ugly bruise on her wrist like someone had squeezed to the point of snapping.

“Baby,” Damion squared his shoulders and his eyes became furious, “who did this to you? Talk to me?”

She wrenched her arm away from him and covered her eyes. Her body crumbled from her crying and Damion felt as if he’d been stabbed in the heart. Hearing her cry and seeing her like this was a fear of his. Not his baby girl. He was seeing red. Damion wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He didn’t push, he waited for her to be ready. She cried for a while until she was a quivering mess and the front of his shirt was soaked with her tears. She finally sat up and Damion wiped her face.

“Talk to me, please,” Damion pushed down the shakiness in his voice, “who hurt you?”

She sniffled, “I should have told you a long time ago. But I wanted to leave the past in the past.”

Her face scrunched up and she pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. Damion caressed her left knee with his thumb.

She exhaled as best as she could. Damion noticed that her fists were clenched so tightly. Looked like a defense mechanism. He frowned.

“…my ex used to abuse me…”

She sobbed again and Damion allowed her to speak. But the way he was feeling at the moment…he was bubbling over with rage. The instinct to protect and defend her kicked in. Her ex put his hands on her? And from the looks of it he did it again?! Damion couldn’t sit still any longer.

“…it took me years to heal from that. I’d finally gotten away from him and moved on with my life. I met you, I felt like I could finally just…just enjoy love and not be worried that the same thing would happen to me again.”

She continued to cry and it was becoming difficult for her to speak.

“I saw him—I saw him today,” She wiped her nose, “He tried to talk to me and I didn’t want to hear it. Why should I even listen to what he has to say?! He didn’t change! He—he grabbed me so tight,” She re-enacted the grip he had on her and she broke down in front of Damion, “HE GRABBED ME! HE GRABBED ME!”

Damion squeezed her tightly and his own tears began to fall. They rolled down his cheek slowly and he felt so defeated. If he would have gone with her, none of this would have happened. He can never let this happen again. Over his dead body.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Damion said with the most deranged look on his face, “I’m gonna kill him.”

She didn’t object. She knew what he would say when she told him. While her body shook from crying, Damion would rub her back while thinking up different ways to find this guy. He wanted to force his hands down on a table and take a hammer to fingers, breaking each and everyone past the point of repair. He wanted to beat his face in with his fist so bad that his family wouldn’t even recognize him. So many things.

“I love you, and I blame myself for letting this happen to you,” Damion stroked her hair, “What’s his name?”

She closed her puffy eyes for a brief moment before opening them again.

“Chris Walker.”

I need to know how he looks. I’ll find him. And when I do, I plan to pay Chris Walker a visit.”

#dame anderson #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #creedimagine

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