#the world is different with them by your side

[obsessivevoidkitten]

That Time You Got Yeeted Into Another World, Mistaken as a God-Sent Gift, and Used as a Prize in an Arena

Yandere Bear-Man Dilf x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: Noncon, framed for a crime, language barrier, eaten out like it's groceries, biting, scent marking, musk, combat, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 765

(Speed written out of nowhere because I had the idea suddenly, not beta read so please forgive any mistakes. I hope you guys like this ficlet. Also forgive the title, in a game I was playing there was a crossover with "That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime" and I liked the vibe of the title.)

You were framed for a crime you didn't commit and in your village the punishment for that crime was immediate exile via being shoved down a steep crater in the center of which is a one-way portal to what is thought to be Hell.

What no one on your side of the portal knew was that on the other side was just another world. A world that celebrated with a great holiday anytime a human came through the portal. It was also a world populated entirely, with the exception of humans who crossed over, by human-like beast hybrids.

Driders, lion hybrids, nagas, aqrabuamelu (scorpion-men), harpies, dog people, centaurs, minotaurs, gnolls, and many other races that seemed to be part human. 

They have a connecting portal in their universe, but any who try to go into it are spat back out. The current went only in one direction.

Every few years, a human would be flung forth from the portal, a gift from the gods! But only the worthy can keep such a gift. So whenever a human comes to the realm from the watcher of the portal will ring the bells and all the warriors assemble and a grand tournament is held at the arena. Whoever wins gets to keep the human and gains enough wealth to care for them properly.

Things are no different when you arrive, you are immediately ushered away, examined, and pampered like a prize doll with no agency. Despite your objections. It seems like only the keeper of the portal has any rudimentary undestanding of your language, not that it helped you. He didn't explain much and his speech wasn't that great. Something about... a big game?

You were naturally frightened beyond all reason, seeing all these beast-men, but it didn't seem like you were being harmed. It really wasn't what you thought hell was going to be like. 

On the day of the big tournament, you were dressed in the finest silks, given a tiny crown of silver, and taken to the best seat in the arena. One where everyone could see you. A cushioned throne was provided for you to sit upon. You figured that this must be a ceremony to welcome people from the portal.

You watched as all the combatants sparred. At first you were horrified, but it became evident that people could yield and death was, almost always, avoided. There were combatants of every variety. 

Even from the start the best seemed to be a naga woman named Eeris and a bear-man named Brakwen. As they advanced through the fights they both finally made it to the finals where they'd clash. Eeris favored twin daggers and fangs while Brakwen used claws and brute strength. He had a sword but had not resorted to using it. 

It was a mighty battle but Brakwen the bear-man managed to win. You still did not yet realize you were the prize. Not until you were escorted down to him and were carried bridal style out of the arena with the crowd cheering. Brakwen had won the god's favor!

From close up he looked even more imposing. He seemed to be in his late 30s to early 40s. He mostly looked like a hairy man from far away though up close his massive size, sharp teeth, claws, thick fur covering his arms and quite frankly adorable bear ears, gave him away. He was rugged but admittedly rather handsome. You knew there was nothing you could do so you let him carry you away. 

Despite the language barrier, Brakwen did his best to please his god-given prize. He could tell you feared him. Especially since you tried to run off a few times. But Brakwen didn't get angry. You never even managed to get past the door. Even if you did there were two gates outside the house. You were far too valuable to let wander off. 

Eventually when you had stopped running off, and when his rut demanded he wait no longer, he began acting a bot more aggressove and sexual towards you. 

Though you tried to stop him it ended with him stretching out your hole with his powerful tongue, lubing you up with his copious amounts of drool, and sliding into you with his massive musky cock.

That's what your life was now. Being treated like a fragile precious gem most of the time and then for one week out of every month you were fucked full of hot bear cum in every possible position, bitten possessively, and scent marked by being forced to wear his oversized clothing. 

[saintobio]

blank canvas: the epilogue.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache

notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

TWO YEARS LATER

Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party. 

Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to live abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.

So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.

The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.

But one person was conspicuously absent. 

It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.

As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”

Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”

“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.” 

Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.” 

“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.” 

You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.

For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.

As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.

“Nii-san!”

“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!” 

Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.

It was Sukuna.

He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.

It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked. 

“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform. 

Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!” 

“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?” 

You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.

It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.

When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you. 

As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears. 

Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you. 

You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories. 

You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?

Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes. 

Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.

“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone. 

“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.

There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”

He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too. 

“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”

You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

“Mhmm.” 

The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.

“Do you…” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?” 

Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.” 

— —

You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past. 

Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.

“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.” 

You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him. 

“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.” 

The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.” 

You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved. 

“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”

Oh.

Of course. 

What did you expect?

His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.

But it was all too late. 

He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”

Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.

“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”

You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.

He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.

But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future. 

“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”

“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes. 

Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”

You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”

“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”

“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”

He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”

You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”

As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.

While as you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be. 

That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.

[yeyinde]

Brain went brrrrrrrr

Price and the new 141 member getting into an argument. Price is all like if you don't behave ill take you over my knee girl.

She's all like I fucking dare you or you'll have to catch me first or even you don't have the balls.

🫠🫠

i’ve always wanted someone who was super by the book to clash with John “i routinely tell my superiors i’m going to maim/murder/hang them” Price. this gave me the perfect opportunity to do so. 

noncon spanking. abuse of authority. power imbalance. size kink. mean, dom!Price. forced submission.

You have this way of getting under his skin. 

An impossible itch. No matter how many times he picks and prods at his flesh, you worm beneath the dermis, burrowing deep. Sitting pretty against his goddamn bones. Festering. 

Incurable. 

He turns to vice to stem the irritation. Cigars. Whiskey. His hand shoved down his trousers like he's a fuckin' boy and not a man on the wrong side of forty. 

Thinking of you—of breaking that smart mouth of yours on his cock. 

It's the way you saunter around with your head held high, balancing golden eggs on your crown, that irks him something awful. The patronising drawl when you huffily remind him that what he's doing is breaking seven, no, ten, different laws, Price. You can't just do whatever you want, there are rules—

And that's the crux of it. 

A difference of ideas. Experience. You still see the world in shades of black and white. Good and bad. Unwilling to acknowledge that the line between is saturated and blurred. A putrid muck that traps all. Bogish. 

He knew it was a mistake when they sent him your file, asked if he needed the additional help. Hostage negotiator. He's heard of you. By the fucking book. You recite passages like it's gospel, turning printed words into a knife. A terrible fit for a team that works in the pivotal no man's land you claim doesn't exist. 

Yet—

He takes you on. Brings you in. Buries his anger at your fucking gall deep in his chest where it rots. Grows. Swallows down the rage, apoplectic fury, when you undermine him at every opportunity, citing laws and regulations like it's a fucking prayer. 

A calamitous decision, he knows. Terrible. But—

Despite it all, you're good at what you do. Brilliant. A budding rose germinating in fecund soil. You'll grow into something wild, won't you? Something untamed. 

Under his hands, you'll bloom the prettiest. He knows this deep in his bones. But—

“You're breaking the rules, Captain—”

—pedantic little thing, aren't you? 

Obediently following the wrong master. 

It irks him. He's been known to step on the toes of his superior officers for less, caustic words hissing foul from between his teeth. 

But unlike them, you're worth something. Even as the moral antithesis to his utilitarian dogma, he sees your potential. How you can shape this world dangling on a brittle thread if you lay down your senseless principles and follow him. Listen to him. 

But of course, you don't. 

And he supposes he ought to have known better. It's dripping gasoline over an open flame. The sequence of events is easily premeditated, seen, when you refuse to listen to what he says (“it's against the law, Price!”), walking away from him, his team, the mission, and take matters into your own, morally righteous hands. Bringing his underhanded methods to the desk of your superior officer, demanding he be investigated for crimes. The result is a loose warning from someone in a suit several sizes too big for them, and your fury when he pulls you back, has you assigned to another mission with the 141, with himself. Preens at your glower when you march back into his office, into his hands. 

In the fallout, he has no one to blame but himself, really. Anyone could have seen this coming. But the thing about shirking his morality in favour of a better outcome—above all else—is that he doesn't have to. 

And so, he doesn't. 

No. He blames you. 

(How perfect for him, then, that there's no one on base except you and him.)

“If you think I'm not going to report you again if you do something illegal, Price, you're wrong.”

He scoffs, shaking his head at your fucking audacity. 

"Better watch that mouth of yours, Sergeant, or you won't like what happens next." 

His palm itches when you look up, offering him a slow, feline blink. Leonine eyes creasing at the corners. 

"And what is that, sir? I'm just doing my job—" it's whispered breathlessly, all faux professionalism even as jest leaks down your brow. They pinch, then. Drawing together in a mockery of confusion. "Isn't that what you wanted me to do?" 

"What is that, mm?" He mocks, arms folding over his chest. He has to breathe through his nose for a moment. Gather himself together before he does something reckless, something like— 

It's the defiant little jut of your chin that does him in. That unravels this fraying knot of control until threads slip through his fingers. Falling too fast for him to clench down on them. 

He's threatened his superiors for far less. His kin, teammates. You have no one to blame but yourself for this, really. No one at all when he pulls his hand from where it's tucked under his armpit, curling rough, worn fingers around your wrist. Pulls you close, wrenching you into his chest until your nose bumps the buckle of his vest. 

"'m'gonna take you over my fuckin' knee, is what's going to happen." 

Your swallow is a gunshot. “You—you wouldn't dare—”

He leans in close, closer still. Breath scorching over your cheek. Preening when you bare your little teeth at him. “Wanna bet on that, Sergeant?” 

It's easier than he would have expected to wrangle you over his knee, pinning you down with an arm across your lower back. The height of his chair keeps your front bent, belly pressed against his thigh. Ass seated perfectly in his lap. Precious gem. 

He hums low in his throat, teeth sinking into the butt of his cigar as he locks you tight against him. Grabbing your wrist, twisting it up behind your back. Holding steady. A warning. 

The dangerous twinge in your bone stills you. 

One wrong move and he'd snap it in half. 

This has you taking a different approach, legs falling limp over the armrest. Head dropping over the other side. Malleable in his grasp—however artificial it is.

“Price—” you breathe, winded. Panic on a spindle. “What are you—what do you think you're doing—?”

He hums, mouth tense around the cigar. Words muffled, slurred. “What I should have done a long time ago.” 

“What—hey!”

Your words pepper off into a choked scream when his other hand falls to the hem of your pants, grabbing the fabric in his fist. The shock fades into indignation. Anger. He tastes it in the air as your hips squirm, legs kicking at nothing. Furious little growls spilling from your lips as you thrash, unconcerned by the ache in your bone. 

“Better keep still, love,” he taunts, mouth curling over his teeth as he twists his hand high, higher, up the small of your back until your fingers brush the skin between your shoulder blades. Any more and he'll break it—

“I'm going to fucking—!” It ends on a whine. A whimper. The pain makes you shiver. “Fuck, fuck—stop, stop, ow, stop—!”

“Not a fan of a little pain then, mm?” 

Your breath is ragged. Paints the air in a fine mist of defeat. He has you. The only option out of this is breaking your bone, a threshold no one is willing to cross. 

Price purses his lips back around the cigar, inhaling once, thrice, before he slips his fingers out of the hem of your trousers, reaching up to take hold of the cigar. It's all so matter-of-fact. So nonchalant when he places it in the ashtray. When he brings his heavy, warm hand back to your ass, curling his fingers beneath the fabric. Pulling. Tugging. 

They come off easier than he'd expected. A harsh tug, and the cleft of your ass is revealed. Plush skin curving enticingly as he rips them down to mid-thigh—panties and all. 

The shock fades back into indignation. You hiss something foul under your breath that makes him huff out a chuckle. 

“Not really in the position for that, are you, love?” 

“Shut up—”

He likes the way you sound like this. Feral. Furious. There's ash in your throat. It blots soot around each word, giving them weight. Gone is the woman who barged into his office, sniffing like you smelled something foul. Backing him into a corner. Sputtering in his face about rules. Regulation. 

Now you're bare-assed, panting, in his lap. Small little fawn in the maw of a bear. But oh, do you fight back—

Teeth bared, indignation bleeding into embarrassment, blotting pink in the whites of your eyes.

The sight is hewn into his hindbrain. 

“Look at you,” he purrs, petting your cheeks. “Been beggin’ to be bent over my knee since you got here, haven't you?” 

“Begging? Don't be—ahh!”

He brings his hand down with a small huff, eyes glued to your flesh. Watching it shake under his hand. The width of one swallowing up an entire cheek. So big is he that you're nearly made infinitesimal in his clutch. The thought makes him groan.

You squirm more in shock than discomfort. Head craning over your shoulder, eyes misting over with tears. Glaring at him. 

“What the fuck, Price!”

He strokes your skin, feeling the heat of your flesh bleed through his palm. Resilient little thing, aren't you? He huffs again, blood buzzing. Electric. There's a kindling fire in his guts. Embers sparking, catching. 

He can't deny how badly he's been wanting to have you like this. Craving your tears, your agony, your submission.

“Count,” he barks out, rough. Abrasive. “You're getting ten. Count ‘em for me, and if you miss one, I'm adding two more.”

“You're crazy, you're—!”

His hand comes down again. The impact shakes the fat of your ass. The strike makes you yowl, thrashing to get away. You don't get very far, still trapped in his hold. The threat of a broken bone keeps you from lashing out too wildly, and all you can really do is sit in his lap, and take it—

The notion has him groaning low in his throat. Something wicked spooling in his veins. Wanting. The sight of you heaving, bare-assed, and begging for mercy unleashes something inside of him. Something primal. Starving. 

Price takes a breath to steady himself, head buzzing. Heart pounding. It feels like the euphoria of nicotine—all bliss, sedation. Ease. 

Cathartic. 

“I said count,” he rasps, words cinder in his chest. Smoke. Dragged up from that burning pyre in his belly. Nocuous, hungry. “That's an order, Sergeant.” 

His hand is scorching against your skin. Thoughts turning over themselves as you hiccup in his lap. So pretty, he thinks, eyes flitting over to you. Taking in the sight of your shock, your denial. It tastes like fine wine on his tongue. Heady. 

“Here comes one—”

“One?”

“I told you, didn't I?” His nail rakes across your skin, cruel. Mean. Something preens when you gasp. Your pain perfuming the air. “M’addin’ two more if you don't count. Thought your speciality was listenin’?”

You scowl, twisting back to level him with an awful sneer. “Oh, fuck you—!”

His hand comes down again, harder this time. Vicious. The scream is tangled in your throat, gagged. He feels pleasure—dark and ugly—bloom in his chest, dripping, liquid, down the length of his spine. The twist of agony on your face is beatific. 

“Not gonna count?” He taunts, pinching your inflamed flesh between his thumb and forefinger. “We're gonna be here all day at this rate, love.”

He leans down, broad chest curling over the small of your back, hand cupped possessively over your cheeks. “But maybe you want that, mm? Maybe all this, mhm, insubordination has just been for show. You wanted this. Wanted to be taken over my knee—”

“You're wrong. I haven't—” it tapers off into a squeak when he pinches your flesh again. 

Price pulls back, breathes shallowly through his nose. 

“You and that smart fuckin' mouth. Told you it was gonna get you in trouble—”

He doesn't wait. His hand rears, and comes down with a loud smack that echoes in the sparse office he has you trapped inside. Your howl races alongside it, curling up the walls. Beautiful in all its agony. 

“Christ—” it's a dagger to his resolve. You sound so fucking good howling like this. Oscillating between feral anger and pain, hissing vitriol between clenched teeth. Choking on sobs. 

The first few are experimental. Testing the waters. Feeling. You're combative during it all. Fighting. Screaming. Each strike is uncounted, echoed only with a plea for help. One he knows won't come—

The only person on base is his Lieutenant. Ghost knows better than to barge in on his affairs. 

“No one's comin’, love,” he grunts, sweat beading along his hairline, dripping down his temple. The room heats along with the blood in his veins, stifling and oppressive. He reinforces each hit with more strength, increasing the tempo until you're screaming on his lap, begging for mercy, mercy, please, please, Price stop, stop—

Your skin raises with each new strike. Swelling. Becoming inflamed. The perfect imprint of his handprint sits on each cheek, edges intumescent. The globes shake, shuddering deliciously under each hit. 

He gets to eleven before you break. Tears streaming down your face, voice a threadbare whisper. Hoarse from screaming. 

His hand rains down, slaps your left cheek so hard it stings his hand. Burns. You whimper. Mewling. Squirming on his lap, and then—

“O–one—”

He grunts, feels himself thicken in his trousers. “Good girl.” 

You shudder, body breaking out in goosebumps. “Price—”

“Ah, ah, love. You're not allowed to speak unless you're counting.”

He hits you again, cock throbbing when you tense up, sniffling. Grinding out a soft two between trembling lips. 

You don't break the way he wants you to. There's a glare on your face despite the tears, the sniffles. A defiance that burns over the bridge of your nose. 

But that's fine. He has eight more strikes to ruin you, doesn't he? 

He sets to it with a low moan, your pelvis pressing taut to his tumid cock, the friction raging in his guts. 

But that, he finds, isn't really the point. No. The pleasure, the arousal, is secondary to the way you fall to pieces at his hand. Flesh stinging his palm with each loud smack that rings out sharply in the room. Uneven breaths. Shuddering little ah-ah-ahs that tumble out through clenched teeth. 

It's addictive, this. Therapeutic. 

There's static in his head. White noise. It renders everything else mute. Moot. Molasses drips down, thick and entrenching, congealing over every churning thought in the back of his head. There's a sense of peace, ease, he hasn't felt in years. In decades. 

He feels his belly knot each time your ass jiggles, skin bulging up from the trauma of being hit so harshly. Chafed under his palm. Welts forming in the shape of his hand. A tattoo you'll have for weeks when he's through with you. Aching each time you try to sit. And fuck—

You'll think of him. Of this. Being taken over his goddamn knee like the bad fucking girl you are. Broken in over his lap. Helpless. Submissive. 

The whimpers fade, replaced with shallow hiccups. Your throat is torn. Raw, ruined, by your screams, yowls. Each rasping whine sends jolts of pleasure down his spine. Liquid want molten in his marrow. 

“S–seven, nngh—”

The moan slips out—scorched, bleached—and drills deep into his loins. 

He peels his gaze away from your blistered skin, glancing at your face, but you duck from his view. Hide. Dropping your head over the armrest. Evading him. 

It's new, this. This meekness. 

You were so combative, so feral before. His gaze rakes down the expanse of your spine, over the curve of your cheeks, before settling, hot and heavy, at the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. You squirm in his lap, thighs sliding together. Rubbing. It's no different from before when he'd spank you, but—

He catches it. 

It glints in the soft light when you move, and he feels something dark, ruinous, curl in the tar-stained fibrils of his chest. Congealing in the crevasses. Hardening. 

Price flicks his tongue out, swiping over his lower lip. The bristles of his beard graze the soft flesh, prickling across it. His throat is suddenly dry. Parched. 

His hand comes down again, notably softer than the other hits he subjected you to. Almost—

Tender. 

This isn't meant to hurt. Not this one. 

He strokes his finger over your skin, cock throbbing with the rasping gasp that spills—a twisted amalgamation of pain, skin still smarting, burning to the touch, and—

His lashes flutter. Nostrils flaring. 

Your slick, wet, between your inner thighs. 

He slides his hand down, down, until your ass cheek is cupped in the bracket of his thumb and forefinger. Nestled tight. A perfect fit. The sight of your skin—soft, so soft—against his bearish, hirsute paw is sickeningly addictive. He grunts, pressing his thumb into the crease between your cheek and thigh. 

“P–Price—”

And then he pulls, moaning deep in his chest as he peels the fat of your ass away, unveiling your cunt to his rapacious gaze. Fuck—

“What’s this?” He taunts, breathless. Pinched. You squirm, trying to press your thighs together. Hiding your pussy from his scorching stare. He doesn't let you. “Gettin’ off on me spankin’ your arse?” 

“N–no, I'm—”

He pushes his thumb up, sliding it over your skin. Gathers your slick on the tip. “Don't lie to me, mm. You're fuckin' soaked.”

The air is punched from his lungs. Spills out in a wretched grunt. In the vacuum, something grows. Knots. Festering inside his chest. Animalistic. Primal. There's an itch in the back of his head. 

He lets go of your arm, knows you won't run. Won't try to escape. No. 

You're a good girl, aren't you? One who does what they're told. Follows orders. It tangles in the soporific slurry of his head, pitching a bivouac of need when you bring your arm down, curling it through the gap of the armrest, holding tight. 

Bracing yourself. 

His hum breaks in his throat. He drags his hand away from your cunt, reaching for the snuffed cigar idling in the ashtray. There's a fever in his veins. It makes his hand tremble. Shake. He needs the blunted drag of nicotine to quench this heady anticipation blooming in his guts. A brumous storm gyring inside him, an incipient maelstrom of want thickening. Intensifying. Threatening to spill over. 

He needs something to steady himself before he tears into you like a beast—

You cock your head over your shoulder, staring at him with eyes drenched in midnight ink. There's a flicker across your tear-stained expression. Something coy. Feline. Leonine. 

There's nothing said. Nothing needs to be. He finds what he's looking for in the fracture of your mien, and scoffs under his breath at your sheer gall. Little fuckin' minx. 

Tobacco proves to be a paltry facsimile when he draws in a bursting mouthful. The restive glow of it dulled under the adrenaline coursing through his veins, heady. Syrupy. A roaring deluge of anticipation broiling in the balmy air, crackling around him like a storm cresting over the horizon. Ozone saturates in the thickening atmosphere. 

Something will break. Shatter. 

He tenses, waiting for the first stormcloud to breach, and drops his hand back to your tender ass. Stroking over the raised welts just to make you gasp. Your hips flex under the shocks of pain riveting down your spine, undulating in his lap. Pitched perfectly over his cock. 

His breath shudders through a needlepoint. The friction is electric. 

In petty retaliation—and just to see you squirm—he trails his knuckles over your heated skin, luxuriating in the way you shiver. Head falling back down over the armrest, beautifully alluring in your vulpine submission. His fingers dip between the cleft of your cheeks, feeling the slickness sticking to your soft, sensitive skin. Soaked between your thighs. Wretched girl. 

His index and middle finger slide over your slit, parting your folds. He feels the small pulses of your drenched hole against his flesh when he slides over it with the press of his fingers. Eager little thing.  

He hums under his breath at the sight of his hand seated across your hand, fingers shoved between the globes of your smarting ass. Soft and tender to worn and gnarled. The cropping of dark hair over his knuckles, his hand, against your bare skin is obscene. The picture of sin with your stricken flesh and his thick veins. The contrast curdled in the back of his head, morphing into something ugly and wanting. 

Idly, he thinks of making you bounce your sore ass on his lap later, your pussy swallowing up his fat cock. Taking it all the way to the root. Over and over again. Breaking you on it until you're begging for mercy, until this little attitude of yours is crushed between his teeth. 

Slick gathers against the rough pads of his fingers, drenching them. The hair on his knuckles is matted down, wet with your arousal. Naughty girl. He'll make you pay for that. 

And for the puddle seeping into his trousers. 

You mewl when he slips, sliding over your clit. The noise spilling molten over your lips, bludgeoning into his loins. 

He drags in another mouthful of smoke. Lets it rot between his teeth as he drops the cigar into the ashtray once more, attention riveting to the slip-slide of your slick thighs rubbing together for friction against your aching clit. Cunt pulsing needily against his hand. 

You haven't learned a damn thing at all, have you? 

Smoke funnels out of his nostrils when he growls. “Spoiled, aren't you? Need to be taught a lesson in respect.” 

“I, ah, am respectful, Captain—” 

He sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. This lippiness of yours grates on his nerves. He wants you begging for mercy, limp in his hold. Pretty doll. Waiting obediently for him to put you back together again. Soft and submissive at his heel. 

“Got three more to go, love.” You shiver when he strokes over your ass. Petting gently with wet, tacky fingers. “If you're a good girl and take it for me, I'll play with your pretty cunt, mm. You'd like that, wouldn't you?” 

Price brings his hand down, grunting when you moan out his name. Sharp and needy. Your plaintive posturing is a spark inside a tinderbox. 

“E–eight.” 

The next one is harder, sharper. The force twinges his joints. Rattles through his bone. 

It's unexpected, and the pain makes you yowl, body drawing tight like a bow. There's no pleasure when it's like that. No friction against your cunt. It's just—

“Price—!” You yelp, shrill and distressed. The lead up to this has been child's play. A soft hand to tender a nervous mare. 

His old man taught him to never strike with the whip first but to wean them slowly. 

He waits, humming mockingly to your pettering whimpers as you heave, tremulous, into the air. Shuddering in his grasp at the aftershocks of agony rippling through your body. 

Waits. Waits. And—

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, cooing low and condescending when you gasp, craning your neck to level him with an imploring, pleading stare as you stammer out a frenetic nine in a breathless rush. Tears soak your lashline, clumping them together when you blink through another deluge pooling against the rim. Your lip wobbles. The stream breaks, spilling over. Fresh tears run down your wet, sticky cheeks. 

There's real panic in the whites of your eyes now. That haughty, pedant gleam buried under pyretic desperation. Gone is the coy twist to your lips. The wily little bloom of amusement in your gaze. 

Aw, poor thing. But—

Too late. “You didn't count. You know what that means, love.” 

That knot in his chest unfurls, and leaks acid into his lungs. This want is corrosive. A poison. The sob breaks through your chest. The first thunderclap. He relishes in it. Leans back in his chair to bask in the potency of your unmaking. 

“Good girl,” he husks out, burning lungs spewing black smoke into the air. “Just ten more now, love. Know you can take it for me, can't you?”

Pretty thing. He'll have that haughty attitude snuffed out before the end of the night. Have you begging for his touch, his cock, him, before the sun draws across the horizon. 

Your ruination at his hand. The thought strokes along the kindling smouldering inside of his chest. Burning away at the pyre he's been building since the day he met you. When you looked up at him, pretty in your scorn, and disobeyed his command. Undermined him. So righteous in your fury. A burgeoning flame he wanted nothing more than to snuff out under his heel, and now—

Wide, wet eyes plead with him. “Please, Price. Please, please. I'll be good—I promise I'll be good, sir—”

—ash in the palm of his hand. 

He strokes over your searing flesh, humming softly under his breath. “I know you will, pretty girl—” basks in the hiccup of relief you let out, lets it glue in his ears, echoing over and over again. So sweet. 

He lets your relief live for a moment. Take its first breath of air through aching lungs—

“But I told you, didn't I? That I'd take you over my knee.” Price pats his hand over your cheek, shushing you when you startle, squirming on his lap. 

“Now. Be a good girl and count for me, mm?”

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader?(no age gap). He saw that someone was flirting with her and she was oblivious to it. Then, he swoops in to ‘save’ her from a bad flirt when in reality they were just jealous. He also feels insecure about his age and to make him feel better, she reveals that she had a surprise for him. You decide what it was. Just something fluff and romantic. Tag me later!! Thanks :)))

You make me feel so …. I don’t know the word in English! -McLaren Fernando Alonso x ObliviousWife! Reader

Plot: Marrying Fernando Alonso was the best decision you ever made, you loved how manly and protective he was with you. However, recently he’s been getting jealous of the other men of the grid and how they treat you.

Credit to blueballsracing for the GIF

Fernando Alonso had been your husband for many years. You were sort of childhood sweethearts who married young on a whim and stuck together through it all.

You were able to travel the world with the person, later to be people you loved most. However recently you had a glow about it, maybe it was the fact that you were 1 month pregnant not to the knowledge of Fernando and not yet showing but just had that dewy, glowing skin that made you look radiant.

Everyone in the paddock took notice of this change, not that they couldn’t appreciate your attractiveness before, but now it just made them swoon anytime you breezed into the garage in one of your pretty sun dresses.

Today was no different, it was a beautiful sunny day in Mexico, and you were handing out water and fruit for the mechanics and engineers hard at work on your husbands car. You knew them all by name, you made sure you did, so greeting them was never an issue.

However, nobody told you of the rookie employee that had joined them for Mexico in McLaren garage. You immediately started to introduce yourself to the man, talking to him about what he was doing to the car and asking when he had joined them.

Unknown to you, the mechanic was smitten with you and everything you were telling him about your life. He was listening to every word you were telling him, and that was the effect you had on a lot of people.

“So are you, I dunno coming to the team dinner tonight?” He asks scratching the back of his neck and your about to answer with an animated yes until you feel a hand snake round your waist and pull you closer to them.

You look up and see your husband making you smile and pull him into a gentle kiss.

“Mmm my wife will be attending the dinner” Fernando says, you can’t tell but it’s said with a grit in his teeth and a sharp foxy look in his eyes that tells him to back off.

Fernando was used to you getting male attention, but lately it was constant and you didn’t even know it was happening, you were just so oblivious and he hated that you didn’t realise all these people were flirting with you.

And that mechanic wasn’t even the last of it.

Maybe it was something in the Mexican air, but even Fernando couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you over the weekend, especially after your run in with Lewis, and your old friend Jenson.

When Lewis come up to you, you had a big grin on your face.

“Hey darling. How are you?” He asked kissing either side of your cheeks looking over you with those eyes that would draw any woman in, but you. You had no idea those flirty eyes were intended that way. You just saw the kind chocolate brown and assumed the sparkle and glint in there was happiness to see you.

“I’m really good Lew! Just getting to that point of the day where I’m so exhausted, not all of us are young athletes that look 10 year more youthful than they are” you joked to him making him laugh.

“Mmm you definitely don’t struggle in that department” he says looking over you and you beam at him.

“It’s just so warm, do you recon you can help me take my jacket off? I’m not sure where Fernando is, and the buttons always get caught in my hair” you ask, looking round quickly to see if you can in fact bother your husband with the minor inconvenience at hand.

“Of course, turn around for me” he instructs before pulling your hair back and carefully peeling the tight jacket from your body, now showing off the full look of the sundress you were wearing and how it clung to your most valuable assets in the best ways.

“New dress” Lewis asks observing it making you nod.

“Mmmm, I love getting to wear these kinds of dresses in this heat, they make me feel very pretty” you smile as you shove your hands into the pockets of your dress that when you first got it you couldn’t stop telling Fernando about them, before doing a little spin for Lewis, showing of the small slit in the dress.

Fernando came over the minute he saw the look on Lewis face, who was holding your jacket as he spoke to you.

“Lewis” Fernando faked a smile at the fellow driver, once again wrapping his arms around you so you were in front of him with a tight grip and nowhere to go.

“Hello Fernando” Lewis smiles coyly with a slight smirk. The two make idle conversation before Fernandos dragging you away trying to lightly ask you to stay out in the garage and don’t stray away.

But once he was in the car, you found yourself needing the toilet (Curse the start of your baby sitting on your bladder) and another drink due to the high temperatures Mexico was experiencing that day.

There you found Jenson who was just finishing up with an interview before his eyes landed on you.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N Alonso, looking as beautiful as ever” he grins and you pull him into a hug.

You’d known Jenson for pretty much your whole life being childhood friends from Primary school in the UK. You met Fernando when you went to university in Spain, you always joked that you would have still met someone even if it was later in life because Jenson would have likely introduced you.

So when Fernando saw you and him jokingly messing around with one another his face was like thunder.

Jenson could immediately tell and said a quick goodbye to you not wanting to be at the brunt of the Spaniards anger.

“Fernando baby, what’s the matter?” You ask, coming close to him and trying to thread your fingers through his but he shoves your hand away lightly.

“When will you see it?” He demands and you cock your head to the side, not understanding what he meant, making him groan at how cute you looked.

“See what mi amor?” You ask, using Spanish to see if he’d be calmer.

“You don’t see all these BOYS flirting with you and trying to win you over and you don’t see how it affects me and upsets me! And you make me so mad when you entertain it’s and and I don’t know the world in English because I don’t even think there is a word to describe it!” He exclaims all at once making you step back.

He was really really hurt by all this… and you hadn’t been able to see it.

“Have you ever thought that I don’t notice it because I only have eyes for you?” You ask softly, taking his hand happy and satisfied he lets you this time.

“I know I know, I just think… all of these men coming up to you … they are younger than us and it just makes me think they could give you more than I can” he sighs and looks at you with those little puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t you dare say that!” You exclaim almost offended. He had in fact brought your age into it aswell!

“How dare you say that they could give me more than you can, when you damn well know you’ve given me everything!” You say raising your voice.

“Fernando, I love you, and only you! How can you not see that!” You ask.

“I do see it, I just someone feel insecure and I worry that we are too late to experience certain things and its all my fault coz I put it off because of my career!” He explains and your head cocks to the side once again, wondering what he feels like he’s too late to experience.

“What, what do you think we’ve left too late?” You question.

“Kids, travelling the world without my career being there … I dunno I just had a different timeline for us when we first met” he sighs rubbing his temple before pulling you closer to him and resting his head in the crook of you neck as he takes in your sent.

“Baby, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I was going to wait for after the race so we could tell your parents too but I think this will cheer you up a little … and stop you from worrying about me running over with your colleagues” you joke and he sighs with a light smile pulling back to look over you.

“What is it mi amor?” He asks looking over you. You take his hand and place it on your still pretty flat stomach.

“You can cross a kid of your timeline” you say nervously with a small gulp worried for his reaction.

“Are you being serious?” He asks with a huge grin and he feels around you more to see if there is a more obvious sign.

“Yeah, i only found out before the flight out here” you nod smiling at him and he lifts you up, being as careful as possible with you as he pulls you into a hug.

“I love you so so much! I’m sorry I get so jealous of you, but you can’t blame me when I’m married to such a beautiful woman. Thank you for everything” he smiles pulling you into a light kiss.

Fernando couldn’t be more content with his life right now.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[feminist-space]

"Artists have finally had enough with Meta’s predatory AI policies, but Meta’s loss is Cara’s gain. An artist-run, anti-AI social platform, Cara has grown from 40,000 to 650,000 users within the last week, catapulting it to the top of the App Store charts.

Instagram is a necessity for many artists, who use the platform to promote their work and solicit paying clients. But Meta is using public posts to train its generative AI systems, and only European users can opt out, since they’re protected by GDPR laws. Generative AI has become so front-and-center on Meta’s apps that artists reached their breaking point.

“When you put [AI] so much in their face, and then give them the option to opt out, but then increase the friction to opt out… I think that increases their anger level — like, okay now I’ve really had enough,” Jingna Zhang, a renowned photographer and founder of Cara, told TechCrunch.

Cara, which has both a web and mobile app, is like a combination of Instagram and X, but built specifically for artists. On your profile, you can host a portfolio of work, but you can also post updates to your feed like any other microblogging site.

Zhang is perfectly positioned to helm an artist-centric social network, where they can post without the risk of becoming part of a training dataset for AI. Zhang has fought on behalf of artists, recently winning an appeal in a Luxembourg court over a painter who copied one of her photographs, which she shot for Harper’s Bazaar Vietnam.

“Using a different medium was irrelevant. My work being ‘available online’ was irrelevant. Consent was necessary,” Zhang wrote on X.

Zhang and three other artists are also suing Google for allegedly using their copyrighted work to train Imagen, an AI image generator. She’s also a plaintiff in a similar lawsuit against Stability AI, Midjourney, DeviantArt and Runway AI.

“Words can’t describe how dehumanizing it is to see my name used 20,000+ times in MidJourney,” she wrote in an Instagram post. “My life’s work and who I am—reduced to meaningless fodder for a commercial image slot machine.”

Artists are so resistant to AI because the training data behind many of these image generators includes their work without their consent. These models amass such a large swath of artwork by scraping the internet for images, without regard for whether or not those images are copyrighted. It’s a slap in the face for artists – not only are their jobs endangered by AI, but that same AI is often powered by their work.

“When it comes to art, unfortunately, we just come from a fundamentally different perspective and point of view, because on the tech side, you have this strong history of open source, and people are just thinking like, well, you put it out there, so it’s for people to use,” Zhang said. “For artists, it’s a part of our selves and our identity. I would not want my best friend to make a manipulation of my work without asking me. There’s a nuance to how we see things, but I don’t think people understand that the art we do is not a product.”

This commitment to protecting artists from copyright infringement extends to Cara, which partners with the University of Chicago’s Glaze project. By using Glaze, artists who manually apply Glaze to their work on Cara have an added layer of protection against being scraped for AI.

Other projects have also stepped up to defend artists. Spawning AI, an artist-led company, has created an API that allows artists to remove their work from popular datasets. But that opt-out only works if the companies that use those datasets honor artists’ requests. So far, HuggingFace and Stability have agreed to respect Spawning’s Do Not Train registry, but artists’ work cannot be retroactively removed from models that have already been trained.

“I think there is this clash between backgrounds and expectations on what we put on the internet,” Zhang said. “For artists, we want to share our work with the world. We put it online, and we don’t charge people to view this piece of work, but it doesn’t mean that we give up our copyright, or any ownership of our work.”"

Read the rest of the article here:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/06/06/a-social-app-for-creatives-cara-grew-from-40k-to-650k-users-in-a-week-because-artists-are-fed-up-with-metas-ai-policies/

[felassan]

New Details on DA4 from this IGN article: "Dragon Age: Dreadwolf Is Officially Being Renamed, With Gameplay Reveal Set for June 11 - EXCLUSIVE"

"BioWare confirmed that The Veilguard will feature seven playable party members, and that it will feature “fun and fluid, moment-to-moment combat” while continuing to center strategy via the unique powers of each companion.

BioWare general manager Gary McKay explains that while Solas is “still very much a part of the story of Dragon Age: The Veilguard,” the team wanted a title that reflected a “really deep and compelling group of companions.”

“One thing that’s important to remind fans is that every Dragon Age game is a new and different experience and this game, more so than ever, is about you and your companions – a group that you must rally to fight by your side,” McKay tells IGN. “We can’t wait for players to meet, connect and form their own personal relationships with the unique companions that make up The Veilguard. That’s the spirit of this game…of this story. Choosing who will join you on your adventure, fight alongside you, and be there by your side in the end.”

McKay claims that the name change wasn’t a matter of focus testing, which commonly informs decisions like these. He even goes so far as to admit that sticking with Dreadwolf might have been easier.

“We actually think sticking with Dreadwolf would have been the safer choice – ‘Dread Wolf’ is a cool name after all!” McKay says. “In the end, it was most important for us to have a title that was authentic to the companions that are the heart of this adventure we’ve created. We’ve worked throughout development to create really incredible backstories for each companion that intersect with the main narrative in meaningful ways.”

As for why it’s not simply named “Dragon Age IV,” McKay says it’s for the same reason that Dragon Age Inquisition wasn’t called “Dragon Age III: Inquisition.”

“Every game in the series tells its own unique story and the title is an important element to help set the stage for the next standalone adventure inclusive of its own hero, companions, narrative arc, villain, setting, etc,” he says.

Asked what it means for BioWare to finally be able to show The Veilguard to the world, McKay said, “As the studio head and executive producer, it’s been incredible to see the journey, resilience and passion that this team continues to bring every day. We have an incredible group of both BioWare and Dragon Age veterans who have been with us for years, as well as new faces and voices that love the series who have helped to create an unforgettable experience we feel will be worthy of the Dragon Age name.”

So who exactly are the Veilguard? In the lore, the Veil is a barrier between the physical world and Fade, which is Dragon Age’s spirit realm. Solas, who helped create the Veil, now wants to destroy it. Hence, as McKay puts it, “the Veil needs guarding.”

While acknowledging that the why and the how is definitely spoiler territory, McKay says, “The biggest clue I can share is that you and your companions – that make up The Veilguard – are central to taking down a new evil threat unleashed upon Thedas. It might not just be Solas.”

McKay isn’t quite ready to reveal the party members quite yet, but does provide some hints on what to expect, including some initial info on romances.

“We spent a lot of time making our companions feel authentic based on their own unique experiences within this larger fantasy world, which in turn makes the relationships you form with them feel even more meaningful. We’ve tapped into Dragon Age’s deep lore and explored its most iconic factions to bring each of the seven companions and their stories to life,” he says.

“I won’t spoil next week’s reveal but I can say we’ve created a story where you can impact the world and the companions that surround you. Player agency is important to the Dragon Age: The Veilguard experience and allows each player to form unique personal connections with their companions of choice. And, yes, you can romance the companions you want!”

McKay says the decision to pare the number of companions from nine to seven is mostly down to it being the “right number for the story we’re telling.” Each one is intended to represent a unique faction or element from Thedas, and will feature their own arc with “stories of love and loss, each with meaningful choices and emotional moments.”

He continues, “As you accompany your companions to unravel their backstory and earn their loyalty and friendship, you’ll visit more regions of Thedas across a deeper variety of biomes than any Dragon Age before it.”

McKay mostly sidesteps questions of how Inquisition’s characters might fit into The Veilguard’s story, though he does confirm that it will once again feature an original protagonist similar to The Warden, Hawke, and The Inquisitor, noting that each Dragon Game has its own standalone story with its own thread and conflict.

“Games across the Dragon Age franchise are never designed as a game-over-game continuous storyline. There are familiar arcs, factions and heroes important to the overarching Dragon Age universe that weave through the new story we’re telling,” he explains. “The previous games, characters and events aren’t the anchor of Dragon Age: The Veilguard it’s about your adventure with a brand new cast of companions that you must rally to fight against a powerful force.”

He once again teases another villain beyond Solas: “I don’t want to get too deep into spoiler territory but I can say that the Dread Wolf is not the only god players need to be worried about.”

When The Veilguard is finally revealed on June 11, BioWare’s presentation will include 15 minutes of gameplay from the opening moments of the game, which will help set up the story. On the gameplay front, McKay says that The Veilguard’s combat was a “big area of focus” and something the team wanted to push forward. Among other things, McKay says that The Veilguard will feature an ability wheel designed to give players more direct control over their characters.

“As an RPG, strategy in combat is important as you bring two companions to every fight. Each companion brings unique powers and abilities that have a direct impact on how you choose to take down the enemies at hand,” he says. “To add another layer to that strategic element, we’re introducing a new ability wheel where you can pause the action and set up your next move – whether it’s your companions’ abilities or your own.

“The ability wheel opens up a huge amount of strategic possibilities, giving players the ability to control the flow of combat and link powerful combinations of abilities between players and their companions that can quickly turn the tide of any battle. We think we’ve found an exciting balance between fun, fluidity and strategy for every encounter.”

“This is a game and experience that continues BioWare’s tradition of single player RPG storytelling set in the epic fantasy world of Thedas,” McKay says. “We know Dragon Age fans and the community have been waiting a long time for the next game and we could not be more excited to share our gameplay reveal on June 11.""

[source] (emphasis mine)

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff drabble no2. making it up to you

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ drabble summary. after a pretty angsty period between you two, gojo tries to make it up to you with flowers & a kitten he finds on the side of the road. (note: for new readers, this is in continuation of my long fic gojo x reader series “kickoff”!! masterlist is linked below) ᰔ main storyline summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. drabble #2

ᰔ words. 2.2k

a/n. ahhh in the original ver of ch10, i actually wrote these scenes from reader’s pov, but cut them out and condensed them bc the word count was already super high haha. so it’s nice i have a chance to include them like this!! although this is written from gojo’s side of the events :”) hope you enjoy <3

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

Gojo finds himself crouched down on the sidewalk outside of your apartment complex as he plucks thorns off of roses one by one, flicking them off of his finger and almost straight into his eyeball with how closely he’s inspecting the stems for any pointed edges.

Are roses poisonous? It’d be bad if they were, since he got pricked in about five different places when he rummaged through bushes at the city park to pluck them for you, walking straight into spring foliage and the no trespassing sign wasn’t going to stop him if it meant he could get the dopamine rush of seeing a smile on your face. But he couldn’t have you getting pricked the way he did. Just in case they were poisonous. And also because he’s not too keen on hurting you anymore than he already has.

“Hm?” he hums as he turns one of the roses in his hands, ankles starting to strain from holding his body weight up on them for so long, something Coach Yaga would make him run laps for, given he skips warm-up stretches at the top of every practice and his lack of flexibility was starting to show. Then he’s wondering if you were any flexible, and the thought threatens to make him horny at 6:17am.

There’s a ladybug creeping up the stem of a soft petalled red rose, missing the opportunity of seamlessly blending into the pigment since it just crawls onto one of the green leaves instead. Absolutely abysmal survival instincts, Gojo thinks to himself. He lets it be, regardless.

Well the flowers didn’t really put a smile on your face, turns out you don’t enjoy having to answer to a doorbell at the crack of dawn on the one day of the week you got to sleep in. He used all the people-reading skills he could possibly muster, and got the vibe that you were annoyed by the gesture. Maybe he could’ve chosen better flowers? He doesn’t know anything about flowers, although he probably should, since his mother used to run a florist shop before she traded it in to run a KFC downtown, near the city’s high school. Better business than selling shriveled up tulips, was how she defended her decision. But maybe if she’d kept it, she could have shown him what arrangement of flowers he should make for a girl he’s trying to apologize to.

You’re rubbing your eye, standing in an oversized stained old T-shirt and some shorts underneath that barely reveal themselves under the hem of the shirt. Cute, so fucking cute. Unbearably, really, but you deny it when he says it.

“You woke me up. And I look like bigfoot standing in front of you,” you say, still rubbing at your eye with a pout on your face.

“I still think you look pretty,” he says and now you’re scratching the top of your head where your hair piles up with coils that look like cotton candy.

“What are you doing here?” you ask through a sleepy voice that sounds a little grumpy.

“I got these for you,” he says, leaning against the doorframe of the entryway and holding out the arrangement of flowers he jumped over a fence to steal. In his defense, none of the supermarkets on the way were open at this hour, but the desperation and urge he had to see you today was so overwhelmingly strong, so he had to find an excuse.

You take the flowers from him, which have been sparsely held together by the newspaper he took from someone’s driveway, and you blink up at him. Your face was a little puffy with sleep, and he can’t help the pursed grin that makes its way onto his face. In very much contrast to your stone face.

“Did you pluck these for me??” you ask, peering into the bouquet.

“Uh-huh,” he affirms.

“From where?”

“The,” he points over his shoulder, “the city park.”

Apparently pilfering flowers from an area of no trespassing was not the romantic gesture he thought it would be, or possibly waking you up just to give them to you was the crime, since you mumbled something about wanting to go back to sleep and then shoo’d him away before he had the chance to ask you what you were doing this weekend. But that’s fine, maybe he’ll get another chance.

Divine intervention came the very next day. Why Gojo considers a kitten he finds in the bushes as an order from God to go talk to you again is a mystery even his good conscience wouldn’t understand, but he’s on a mission to make it up to you. It’s the only thing he wants to do.

He was taking a two minute break during his morning run, pacing down sidewalk panting slightly underneath spring heat, when he heard something crying deep within the bushes. Without a second thought, he’s pushing his way through branches that were a lot more spiky than anticipated, one tearing straight through the fabric of his shirt, but he finally spotted it—

A tiny little soot sprite sitting curled up in a ball between dead leaves and spiky twigs, the round of its form rising and falling fast with its heavy breathing just like Gojo is right now. It lifts his head up, triangular ears dropping then raising, dropping then raising, as it makes sense of its surroundings and eventually it cocks its head all the way up to look Gojo straight in the eye.

A kitten?

With paws rustling the leaves underneath it, it tilts its head and resumes its cries. Loud and sounding so hoarse from exhaustion in its throat that it sounds like a kazoo. All left alone and abandoned.

Gojo picks it up slowly, noticing it’s smaller than the size of his hand, and he holds it up into the air to inspect it. How does he know if it’s a girl or a boy? He pulls his phone out and types it into Google. Okay, in male kittens, the genital shape resembles a colon punctuation mark (:). He looks back at the kitten with no preservation of its genital honor. Yup, it’s a boy.

He has nothing against cats, he’s just not really used to them. His family had a dog growing up, a stunning Mongolian mastiff he could fight and wrestle with like a bear for as long as he could remember through to his teens, but because of that, he has no clue how to be gentle with an animal. And this little kitten seemed like it needed a whole lot of gentle from the way it shivers as he holds it in his arms.

He knows someone gentle.

In hindsight, he should’ve taken a glance in someone’s car door window to inspect for twigs and leaves in his hair before showing up at your front door, and he also should’ve felt weary over the ripped up condition of his shirt, but he didn’t think of those things until he was already standing at your front door. He briefly considered going shirtless, but then the idea of him showing up shirtless to your front door with no notice at an hour that wasn’t much better than the hour he visited you yesterday was something his gut was telling him wouldn’t be a wise thing to do. Although showing up shirtless most places has hardly ever failed him, he just had the feeling that you’d be different.

The kitten he holds in the curled palm of his hand trembles as it claws at Gojo’s shirt, calming down when it feels the warmth of his torso, and Gojo starts to find it cute. Then the door of your apartment flings open.

You stand there, looking neater than yesterday with your hair kept and you’re in some jeans with a light pink University of Tokyo T-shirt tucked into them. Your tote bag was slung around your shoulder, like you were just about to leave.

“S-Satoru?” you squeak out after jumping a little where you stand.

“Hey,” he says, leaning against the doorframe again since you seem to never allow him inside your apartment. Apparently the doorframe is as far as he’ll get.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in the same way you asked it yesterday, and you tuck strands of hair behind your ear. His heart beats faster at the sight, and the kitten probably feels it from the way it starts purring with a nuzzling head under his ribcage.

He pulls the tiny thing from his front and extends his arm out to you, as it sits dazzled and confused in the palm of his hand from the sudden loss of surrounding heat, and then it looks at you. And you look at it. “I brought you a cat.”

“Wha—” you stutter, and your face entirely softens, lower lip jutting out slightly in a pout as you use both hands to pick it up off of his hand, it’s tiny white paws dangling in the air before you settle it snug in your arms, and it chirps a mew before pushing its little face against the pillows of your breasts. Lucky bastard. “But why???”

He shrugs, crossing his arms now as an easy smile makes way onto his face. “I don’t know. I thought you’d think it’s cute and you’d want to keep it.”

“But I can’t,” you whine, your fingers scratching the top of its head and its purrs become louder. “I can’t keep cats in my apartment.” You lift the fluff ball up into the air, its tiny stubby tail now slightly wagging from side to side like it’s a puppy. He makes note that you are a person who has the ability to turn kittens into puppies.

“Keep it anyway,” he tells you, “you wouldn’t be the first college student to unlawfully keep a cat in their apartment.”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand,” you say, cradling the kitten in the nook of your elbow again. “I really can’t.” And your lips turn downwards into a frown, “this complex checks on tenants often. The people who rented this apartment before us couldn’t renew their lease because they got caught having a cat in the unit.”

His eyes widen. “Oh…that—…that sucks.”

“I can’t keep him,” you say, voice trembling slightly as you look down at it. It looked like it had fallen asleep in your arms. “I really want to, but I can’t. And he’s so cuuute, and tiny and sweet and—” He sees tears start to sheen in your eyes.

Uh.

Uh-oh.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

This was not going how he thought it would in his head.

He wasn’t supposed to make you CRY.

That was the last fucking thing he was supposed to do.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he tries to comfort you when he hears you sniffle and sees your lower lip tremble. He holds your shoulders to get you to look at him, and his heart physically hurts at the sight of seeing you so sad. For fuck’s sake, you were going to ruin him. “I’m sorry, I—…I didn’t know that, I shouldn’t have brought it here without knowing that first, it was stupid and—”

“Yes, it was,” you say with a broken voice, shrugging his hold off you and using the back of your hand to wipe at a tear rolling down your cheek.

He pulls you into him now, holding you in his arms against your resistance but you eventually tuck your head into his chest to continue your sniffling as he rests his chin on top of your head and rubs a soothing thumb over your arm. The kitten is sandwiched between you two now, and is probably in the most amount of bliss it’s ever had in its extremely short life so far from the amount of warmth it's being surrounded by right now.

He feels the cool dampness of your tears soaking through his shirt, and he holds you tighter. “I’m sorry. Really, I am.” It feels like he’s apologizing for a lot more than the kitten right now.

You pull one of your arms out, the one that wasn’t holding the kitten, from between the two of you and hold onto his shirt tightly, the places where it’s ripped tearing open even more. “You just don’t think sometimes and it really hurts,” you say, muffled.

He lets out a deep sigh, lips brushing against the top of your head and you two stand still here in the imaginary forcefield of your apartment’s doorframe. “I’ll be better. I promise.”

“Don’t be sweet right now,” you say, voice cracking again, “that hurts even more.”

He’s really confused, in all honesty, but he masks it and can only hope out of the ten things he does wrong, he can do at least one right. “Okay.”

You push yourself out of his hold and hand him back the kitten, all in a rush, and he notices you refuse to look at the soot sprite anymore, like you’re trying not to get attached. “Take him, and leave,” you say, hoisting your totebag higher up onto your shoulder.

“But—” he tries to protest but you push him a few paces backwards by palms against his chest until he’s standing outside into the hallway. There’s a slight scrunch to your brow from your irritation of him, and maybe his problem is that he just finds it cute. And then you shut the door on him.

After a moment of stunned silence, he hears the kitten meow incessantly in his palm.

The little shit’s mocking me, he thinks.

.

.

.

[end]

a/n. thanks for reading!! this was silly to write haha. tbh i think reader was on her period during this scene which is why she became very emotional. i may be projecting bc i sob like a little bitch over cute animals when im on my period LOL. and gojo is trying his best u guys he’s just a little dumb ok ✋🏼😔 his looks have got him this far we have to have patience w a pretty privilege victim okay!!!!

thanks so much for reading!! also i really want to write a drabble of gojo becoming a cat dad now aaaaa

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@erencvlt @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

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note: i won’t be doing extended taglist for drabbles, sorry :”) also pls lmk if your tagging preferences change at any time!!

[harmoonix]

🪼⨍ꫀׁׅܻ᥎꫶ׁׅꫀׁׅܻꭈׁׅ ժׁׅ݊ꭈׁׅꫀׁׅܻɑׁׅ֮ ꩇׁׅ🪼

🕊 By Harmoonix 🕊

~ my heart goes la di da ~

───────────────────────────────────────

🪼 - Scorpio Risings/Scorpio Mars/Scoprio Sun are more possessive than the rest of Scoprio placements in my opinion,Scoprio Moon or Scoprio Venus will act more obsessed than posseisve

🪼 - Taurus Placements can focus on lot of finances and wealth, some things with gaining and getting from others (money)

🪼 - Where Neptune sits in your chart can indicate where you get addicted:

In the 7H, to your relationships

In your 10H, to your status, public image

In the 1H, becoming addicted to your appearance/the way you look

In the 2H, becoming addicted to money and finances

In the 3rd H, becoming addicted to communicating more, expressing yourself, addicted to creativity

In the 12H, becoming addicted to isolating yourself, hiding yourself from the world

🪼 - Mars in Virgo/6H or at 6° or 18° their charm is insane. Their body can stand out to these natives, beautiful mind and body is the definition for them

🪼 - Mars in Pisces and Sagittarius natives have irresistible charms since Jupiter rules both of these signs, the person is very liked with Mars in this position

🪼 - 12H Sun can have lots of Neptunian energy, therefore the Sun will act in "shadow", not seen so easy by others

🪼 - Lilith h12 in the 4H/9H and 12H have deep ancestral wounds, it can be generational pain as well

🪼- When you have Neptune/Venus or Sun/Jupiter in the 2H, you can become addicted to buying things that light up your mood and make you happy instead of simply buying them because you want them

🪼- Taurus/Libra or Pisces Risings/Moons are like a piece of art, ready to be set up in a museum

🪼- Capricorns can be night owls. If you don't know, the meaning of night owl is when a person is more productive at night instead of being productive during the day

🪼- When you have Neptune in the 1H/Neptune aspecting the ascendant, you can have doubts about yourself, like you can think youre not beautiful or that youre not liked because soemtimes Neptune makes illuions and fake scenarios about things that may actually not be real. You are very beautiful and sometimes you cannot see it

🪼- Uranus in the 7H can bring an awkward situation when you'll meet with your partner/spouse

🪼- Lilith in the 4H/10H can actually indicate being judged by the family or feeling like the black sheep. Especially from the father side of the family (Mother side can be too)

🪼 - Mars in the 8H i think is one of the most sensual houses to have Mars in. Everything is so sexual right there

🪼 - Taurus/Venus in the 3rd house gives you a very harmonious relationship with your siblings (in case you have)

🪼 - Lilith in Aquarius is the place where Lilith doesn't want to be like others and it can sound corny but she is just feeling different than the rest of the world

🪼 - Venus in Capricorn may actually need a lot patience in their relationship, you're waiting but for a reaosn, to find something better

🪼 - Sun in the 9H can be the person to change their spiritual or belief system a lot in their lives, they wanna try and experience different things

🪼 - Asteroid Ishtar (7088) is said to be equivalent to Asteroid Aphrodite so aspecting the ASC/MC can indicate surrounding yourself with beauty

🪼 - Having the ruler/lord of the 6H in the 12H can indicate that the pets you have in this life time can be family members from a past life

🪼 - Pluto aspecting the Asc/Sun or Moon gives you the "detective" aura, you can find yourself being interested in crime series or crime novels

🪼 - Cancer Guys especially Cancer Sun/Rising Guys can be momma boys,so when you date them make sure their momma won't come between u 2

🪼 - Venus in Cancer/Venus in the 4H are the best placements to have if you want to raise a family or an entire generation

🪼 - Asteroid Bless [92891] and what you were blessed with:

In the 3rd - with great siblings/brotherhood comfort

In the 10H - with a good career or job/public image

In the 11H - blessed with finding the community you belong to

In the 2H - finances/money/security

In the 9H - with a great background/ancestral background/with a good learning skill

In the 1H - blessed with your appearance/the way you look

🪼 - Asteroid Aura 1488 aspecting Sun gives the aura of a young soul, someone very kind and light hearted

🪼 - Aura 1488 aspecting Mars gives the aura of an ambitious/brave/bold person, influential aura

🪼- Aura 1488 aspecting Jupiter gives the aura of a four-leaf clover, very wise, spiritual, intuitive is giving shaman/wizard vibes

🪼 - The rising you have in your D9 chart (vedic astrology) is the energy you'll embody a lot in this life, for example I have Cancer Rising in my D9 chart and I have to focus on things that make me more comfortable and secure just like a Cancer 👁👄👁

🪼 - Virgo + Aquarius combo in your chart can tell about a very intelligent native, clear mind, good personality and charming

🪼 - Gemini + Leo combo in your chart can tell about a person who is always thinking at others more than anything, caring, generous, and social/popular

🪼 - Jupiter in your 4H/9H can indicate leaving your home country and flying to another maybe for a better life or whatever reasons, it indicates some moving when you were a kid

🪼 - Taurus Saturn/Saturn in the 2H are rarely talked about, I think Saturn here wants to teach the native to spend their money carefully on things so they can be 100% fulfilled of their purchases

🪼 - Saturn in the 6th/12th Saturn at 6° 18°,12°,24° degrees, this is a very healing placement, but one tool to use to heal yourself is literally the sleep, trustttttt me, if you feel sad try to sleep, if you had a bad day try to sleep it will make you feel much better! The sleep can actually heal you.

🪼 - Saturn in Gemini/Saturn in the 3rd house will give you "freedom of speech", your voice is very powerful and you can help people with it

🪼 - Pluto/Lilith in the 11th house can talk about being different from your group of friends, you can have something not everyone will accept in their friend group

🪼 - When you have Jupiter harshly aspecting your Sun you can often think of bad luck happening to you

🪼 - When you have Saturn in Sagittarius or in the 9H school can sometimes drain you the most, especially some teachers as well

🪼 - Mars in the 9H can actually tell of tense situations with teachers and in school generally (Mars in Sag and Mars in 9° and 21° can as well)

🪼 - Chiron in the 1st/2nd houses can not always the best relation with their bodies, is a slow journey but with good results, if you want that of course

🪼 - Venus in the 10th/Capricorn can sometimes put work before relationships, especially after a breakup omg, they gonna focus much more on work than ever

🦋 Connecting Yourselves to the source 🦋

[drudyslut]

— summary: kook princess. kook prince. perfect match, right? wrong. you hated rafe cameron and everything he stood for. and he hated you. so when your fathers spring it on the two of you that they’d arranged for the two of you to be married, both of your worlds are flipped upside down.

— CW: 18+ only! strong language, slightly aggressive!rafe, heated kissing, fingering, rafe is honestly super sweet n cute in this.

— note: it’s getting sexy in here😏

prev parts: one, two, three

Y/N

I wake the next morning, my head throbbing and the smell of coffee filtering in through my bedroom door. I yawn, going to stretch my limbs but the feel of a strong set of arms draped across my waist has me stilling, my mind racing a hundred miles a minute.

What the fuck….?

I glance to the right of my bed, the sound of slow and steady breathing I hadn’t heard at first now hitting my ears. Oh fuck. Rafe. What is he doing in my bed? What the hell happened last night?

The last thing I remembered was him kissing me after our parents announced the engagement, and then he lead me into the kitchen where we both indulged in the copious amounts of alcohol my parents had provided for the night. I remembered the two us of finding his friends, Topper and Kelce, talking to them for a while before we had wandered off somewhere else within the house.

We’d gotten along fairly well last night. We weren’t fighting, or acting like we’d hated each other, but that didn’t mean anything… Right? Nothing happened between Rafe and I. It couldn’t have..

I softly lift his arm up and off my waist, letting it fall onto the bed before I lifted the covers, taking an inventory of my clothes. I still had my dress on, my underwear and bra hadn’t been removed… I felt fine. So why is Rafe in my bed? From what I’ve been told, — and just from what I’ve seen — Rafe didn’t sleep in bed with a girl unless he was fucking her.. But then again, he also never publicly showed affection towards any female, and last night he’d kissed me in front of a large crowd.

Swinging my legs over the side of my bed, I plant my feet on the ground, slowly and quietly trying to slip out the bed. I make it out of the bed, tiptoeing to my bathroom, but when my hand hits the knob, Rafe’s voice has my body tensing up.

“Trying to sneak out on me, huh?”

Fuck, he sounds sexy in the morning. His voice is low and raspy and thick with sleep. I release the door knob, slowly turning to face him. He’s laid on his side, his right elbow propped up on the bed with his right hand holding his face as he stares back at me. I rub my thighs together, trying to shake away the throb that’d formed between my legs from just looking at him.

I clear my throat, “Uh, no. I just.. I just need to brush.. Just need to brush my teeth.”

Fuck, I sound like a fucking idiot. Stumbling over my words like a fucking high school girl with a crush… Why is he making me feel things like this? I’ve always hated him, but now… Now I’m seeing him in a slightly different light, and I can’t shake the feelings that are digging their way up.

He smirks at me, breathing out a small laugh before he turns and lets his head fall back into my pillows. I watch as he makes himself comfortable in my bed, my eyebrows shooting up to my hairline in confusion and shock. Rafe Cameron in my bed? If you would have told me this would be happening just a week ago, I’d laugh in your fucking face and say “Only in his dreams.”

Rafe turns his head to the side, bright blue eyes scanning the length of my body before he says, “Go brush your teeth and change into something more comfortable, then come back in here. We should talk.”

I open my mouth to respond, tell him that he can’t tell me what to do. But nothing comes out. I just clamp my mouth shut and turn, opening the bathroom door and quickly shutting myself inside.

My back hits the door, sliding down until my ass hits the cool tiled floors. I run my hands through my hair, something scraping against my scalp when as I do. I pull my left hand down, holding it out in front of my face. My eyes go wide when I notice the large diamond that sat on my finger. Holy shit? This wasn’t here last night… Is this? Of course it is, how could I not think that there’d be a ring? We’re getting married for Christ’s sake.

I begin sucking in large gasps of air, trying to mentally calm myself. It’s happening. He’s not so bad, is he? When the fuck did he put this ring on my finger? Why the fuck is this my life? What does he want to talk about? All the annoying, but valid thoughts run rampant in my mind. I shake my head, trying to shove all the incessant thoughts away as I will my shaky legs to stand again.

Quickly brushing my teeth and taking three ibuprofen, I push open my bathroom door and make my way back into my bedroom. Rafe still lays on my bed, but he’s on his phone now. He slowly turns his head, his icy blue gaze slowly moving from my feet and up to my face.

My face heats up under his intense stare. “What?” I ask, my voice slightly shaking. Damnit.

He locks his phone, placing it on the nightstand and sitting himself up in my bed, his back rested up against the headboard.

“You gonna change? That dress cannot be comfortable.”

I glance down at the tight fitted white dress my mom had chosen for me to wear last night. “Uh.. Yeah.”

I slowly make my way to my dresser, opening it and pulling out a pair of pink silk shorts and a white tank top. I slowly inch toward the bathroom again, but Rafe clears his throat, stopping me in my tracks.

“You don’t have to be shy around me. I’m gonna be your husband after all.”

My brows pinch together in confusion. “What do you want from me? You went from hating me to… not hating me… so fast. So what’s the catch?”

Rafe chuckles. “Who said I didn’t still hate you? You’re stuck up. You have this ‘I’m better than you’ complex. You don’t like fun,” He pauses, his blue eyes searching my face. “Honestly, you’re not my first choice for a wife. To be honest, I’m not sure I ever wanted to be married. But here we are. I guess you can say I’ve just accepted the situation we’ve found ourselves in.”

My entire body heats up. Of course he still hates me, I didn’t expect a week to change anything. But what does he want from me? “You don’t have to be shy around me.” What the fuck does that even mean? Does he think that just because we’re supposed to be married in three weeks that I’ll just throw all my morals away and let him have his way with me? Fuck that, he’ll have to work for me, even if all I want to do is bare myself to him and let him touch me.

I nod my head once. “Understood. So tell me then, Rafe. What is it you want from me? You want me to strip for you? You want me to just give myself to you because you’re set to be my husband? I’ve gone twenty-one years without letting a man see me or touch me, and believe me when I say, I can go another twenty-one. I won’t give into you so easily, I’m not one of your many girls that will just drop to her knees when you ask. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to change, and I’d like it if you’re gone by the time I come back out.”

I turn and grasp the doorknob, pushing open the bathroom door but Rafe’s hand gripping the back of my neck has my clothes falling to the floor, a sharp gasp pulled from my chest.

He spins me around, keeping a firm hold on my neck as his cold, blue eyes stare down at me.

“Princess, you will give into me. You will drop to your knees when I ask. And you will love every second of it, because I can promise you one thing, of all the men that could be your first, you’re lucky it’ll be me.”

I yank myself free from his grasp. My right hand lands a sharp slap across his cheek before I can process what I was doing. Oh shit. Did I just do that? Fuck fuck fuck. He’s definitely going to make me pay for that, and although I’m not necessarily afraid of Rafe Cameron, I can’t help but fear what he might do to me for such a stupid mistake.

His wild blue eyes stare down at me. I can’t quite read the expression on his face, but I can see the fire blazing behind those cool blue eyes, and it’s frightening. I open my mouth to apologize, but Rafe’s right hand grips the back of my neck tightly again, his lips crushing mine in a searing kiss.

I try and fight him off of me, but to no avail. He’s much stronger than me, and his grip on the back of my neck is bruising this time. He kisses me with so much force and passion it has my knees going weak and my heart thrumming wildly in my chest.

Rafe’s tongue flicks my upper lip, and I absentmindedly part my lips for him, allowing him to shove the pink muscle into my mouth. His left hand runs up my side, squeezing at my hip tightly before it continues its way up and around to the zipper on the back of my dress.

He breaks the kiss, his darkened over eyes staring down into mine. Slowly, he tugs the zipper down, the straps of my dress falling loosely down my shoulders as he does. He never takes his eyes off mine as he pushes the dress down my body, leaving me in nothing but the silky white bra and panties I’d chose to wear last night.

Releasing the grip on my neck, he steps back, planting both hands on my hips as his eyes take in my body. My heart picks up in my chest, beating wildly now, I don’t think I breathe as he continues staring down at me.

“Rafe… What’re you-”

He dips his head down, claiming my lips with his again as his hands run down my hips and to my ass. He grips the flesh in his hands, a small gasp escaping me at the unknown feeling. The spot between my legs is throbbing, my thighs rubbing together to try and ease the ache I felt.

Rafe breaks the kiss once more. “You’re very beautiful. Why do you hide? Why have you never let a man touch you?”

My cheeks burn from his question. It’s not that I’ve never wanted to be touched, and it’s not like I haven’t had the opportunity, I just didn’t like any of the men who threw themselves at me. I didn’t want to be just another notch in someone’s belt, and that’s exactly what I would’ve been to any man on this island.

“Y/N? You okay?”

Rafe’s soft but firm voice pulls me out of my own head, and I raise my eyes to meet his. Deep blue pools stare down at me, and something in my heart swells. I don’t know when I’d started feeling for Rafe within the last week, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about it…

“I- I’m fine..”

His brow pinches together, a look of confusion etched into his beautiful face. He thankfully didn’t push the subject though.

His hands roam the expanse of my body, a trail of goosebumps left in the wake of his fingers. He digs his fingertips into the waistband of my panties, his eyes meeting mine once more. “Can I?”

My hands shake, and a large knot has formed in my throat. I knew I shouldn’t give in, I told myself not to give in, but something inside me had my head nodding a silent ‘yes’ to him.

His fingers dip down and into the silky material before the pushed down, letting the soft material fall around my ankles. My hands fell, instinctively covering myself from his eyes, but his large hands come down and slowly grip my wrists, pulling them away.

“Rafe..”

“Shhh, just let me make you feel good, alright?”

I slowly nodded my head, averting my eyes to the ground. He takes my right hand in his, pulling us toward my bed. He sits down first, still clad in his dress slacks but no shirt, pulling me down next and situating me between his thighs.

His left hand pushes my legs further apart, and every muscle in my body tenses. My nerves were on high alert, was I really about to let Rafe Cameron touch me? Yes. Was I nervous about what this meant after? Yes and no. He was going to be my husband after all, may as well get used to him now, right?

His fingers slowly run down my thigh, sending a shiver down my spine at the soft touch. He slowly inches down, down, down until his fingers reach the most sensitive part of my body. I gasp as his index finger lightly brushes against my clit, the sensitive bud throbbing with need.

Rafe’s lips kiss softly on my shoulder and up to my neck, the heat of his breath on my skin making my body tingle. “‘M gonna insert a finger now, okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”

My eyes squeeze shut, my lower lip trapped between my teeth as I nod my head once more. He slowly pushes his index finger inside me, groaning once he’s knuckle deep. “Shit, you’re so wet, princess.”

Slow and steady pushes of his finger has my breath catching in my throat, this felt unreal, like nothing I’d ever been able to do for myself. His lips left soft, wet kisses on the skin of my neck and shoulder as he continued to push his thick finger in and out of my arousal slick core, our uneven breaths mixing together in the air.

“Gonna add another, okay?” Rafe warned before his ring finger slowly pushed its way inside as well.

The feeling, the stretch, it felt amazing. Tears welled in the back of my eyes as he slowly thrusted his fingers inside of me, his thumb pressing firmly against my clit, slow torturous circles being rubbed against it.

A tight feeling brewed in my lower belly as his fingers picked up pace, his thumb still slowly rubbing against my sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Rafe… Oh, God.. I-”

My brain was fuzzy, this unfamiliar feeling growing inside me, white hot pleasure threatening to rush through me.

“You’re close,” Rafe whispered against my neck, “I can feel you clenching around my fingers. You can let go, baby. Make a mess on my hand.”

Strangled “mmphs” and “ahhh’s” fell from my lips, the pressure building up more and more until it exploded. Pure euphoria rushed through my entire body from my head to the tips of my toes, my body shaking and small, quiet whimpers escaping me.

Rafe didn’t let up, he continued to finger me through my high, his teeth nipping at my shoulder, earlobe and neck as he did. My body fell limp in his arms, his fingers finally slowing in pace before he removed them completely. I turned my head to face him, his eyes on mine as he shoved the two arousal soaked fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean.

“I… Thank you..” I said softly, trying to ignore the slight awkward tension that now crowded my room.

Rafe smiled, a real, genuine smile for once. “You’re welcome. I just believe we should get used to being around one another, I mean.. We’re getting married right? And I’ve always found you beautiful, I was just too stuck in my ways of hating you that I would never admit that shit out loud.”

His hard dick pressed into my ass, serving as a reminder that he’d just taken care of me, and I should probably return the favor.

“Do you… Uh.. Do you want me to, help you…” I asked awkwardly, my eyes darting from his face down to his lower region.

He chuckled. “Nah. Another day, sweet girl. We have a lot to do today.”

Oh shit. That’s right, today was food and cake tasting for the wedding, Rafe and I had to pick what entrées, appetizers, cake, et cetera we wanted to have for the wedding. I quickly jumped off my bed, grabbing my phone and checking the time. Shit. It’s ten-thirty. I had an hour and a half to shower and get ready to go.

“I’m uh.. I’m gonna shower.. You gonna be here when I get out?”

“Nah, I’m gonna head home and get ready myself, but I’ll be back here in an hour to pick you up. Please be ready?”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah yeah, I’ll be ready. Um.. Thanks, again.”

He nods his head once, grabbing his shirt off my floor and tossing it on. I watch as he makes his way out of my room before I kick it into high gear and begin getting ready. I tried to shake the feelings I felt from my mind, but nothing worked. As much as I hated to admit it, I was falling for Rafe and his charm. The next hour, hell even the weeks to come, my mind was plagued with thoughts of the one person I never in a million years thought I could tolerate. Rafe Cameron.

RAFE TAGLIST: @drewstarkeyslut @princessslutt @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rafesthroatbaby @sturnioloshacker @starkeysprincess @rafescurtainbangz @atorturedpoetx @redhead1180 @jjsmarijuana @romaescapes @kisses4angel @lovelysturnioloos @maybankslover @bellbottombaby @simars3 @rafesgiirl @urbimom @heartsforrafecameron @antagonize-me-motherfucker @araminsstufff @chaneydoll @bi-zowee @uraesthete @rafemotherfuckingcameron @gibbsgirl7 @queenvane @anobsessedwoman @sunny1616 @princesssuki21

rafe cameron masterlist | series masterlist | taglist form

[lizthewriter]

red wine supernova / regina george

SUMMARY  regina george has made you the new victim of her attention. it's a different kind of attention than you expected from her.

QUOTE  "she was a playboy, bridgette bardot, / she showed me things i didn't know, / she did it right there, out on the deck, / put her canine teeth in the side of my neck," - red wine supernova by chappell roan

WORD COUNT  1.1K

WRITTEN  6.3.2024

you've always been introverted and shy - some people were loud, rambunctious, easily likeable. easily sociable. it had never been that easy for you - anxiety rumbling at the bottom of your stomach every time you spoke to someone new, hands trembling and voice stuttering as you spoke in front of the class. it didn't help when others began to tease you for it - it only made you more reclusive.

but then, she noticed you. everyone knew who she was. regina george. queen bee of the mean girls, the plastics, the fake and bake's, whatever people liked to call them these days. and believe me, no one wanted to be noticed by regina george, not the way she noticed you.

it started out as small, targeted comments in the lunch line. on your clothes, on the foos you ate, on the way you did your hair. cute, girly tips hidden behind the pretentiousness of a pig with lip glass. okay, perhaps that was taking things way too far. she was gorgeous and she wasn't completely terrible. you just couldn't figure out why you were so special to be one of the few victims of her attention and insults.

but now she was making it obvious to everyone that she had taken some odd liking to you. swinging her arm around your shoulder and calling you pet, playing with your hair and giving you beauty tips with thinly veiled conceit, things like that.

you tried to stay away from her as much as possible, but unfortunately that was impossible. world history and of course, for your final project, you abaolutely had to be thrown with her.

regina plopped down in the seat next to you as people scattered across the room to find their project partner. aaron was sitting practically next to her, but she wasn't even watching him. she seemed to give all her attention to you lately. "hey babes, looks like we're stuck together."

you laughed nervously. "yeah, looks that way," you responded in a small tone, staring down at your notes. "so i was thinking, i'm very educated in world war two discourse, i was hoping we could do our project on -"

"you know, you should totally come over my house this weekend." most of your classmates around you froze and glanced towards regina. she never invited anyone but the plastics at her house. "i can show you how to do makeup - i'll even let you borrow my lip gloss."

"you never let me borrow your lip -"

"oh my god, will you stop taking things so personally gretchen?" regina responded, not even turning around in her chair to face gretchen, who was sitting behind her. regina gestured to gretchen and rolled her eyes, finally returning all her attention to you. she grabbed your hand and started to trial her fingernail around your hand in circles. "what do you say, pet?"

"umm, i'll bring my notebook so we can work too," you responded in an uncertain tone.

"great!"

-

"and don't worry girls, if you want to have a party, i still have all of my old nas cd's downstairs!" regina'a mother exclaimed as she left the room. you and regina were situated on her bed, sitting rather close to one another. as you reached to pull your notebook out of your bag, regina pushed your hand back down so that your notebook was firmly back in it's place.

"don't be a bore, let's have some fun first," regina responded with a roll of her eyes, popping her lollipop back in her mouth. she grabbed you by the arm and hauled you all the way over to her vanity, turning on the lighting and grabbing all the possible makeup in sight. "we are giving you a makeover."

she grinned at you, and in that moment you couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. you decided to go along, for the sake of it - why upset her now? she could have her fun with you and then you could go back to working on your project. "all right, i guess."

she started to pull out all sorts of makeup application devices you either recognized and didn't use or had never seen at all. she tapped her phone and punk rock music began to blare through the speakers in her room - you found yourself suprised at her music taste but said nothing, only tapping your feet along to the beat.

she began by brushing your hair and pulling it back with a headband, giving her free reign to do whatever she wanted to your face. she started out with skincare, washing your face and applying a face mask.

"so, what do you like to do in your free time, or whatever?" regina asked you in a bored tone, though her eyes seemed rather interested as she looked down at you. enamored, almost, but that must have been a trick of the light.

you started to name a few hobbies but before you knew it, the two of you were deep into conversation about various different things and surprisingly, as she did your makeup, you found yourself opening up to her, becoming louder and louder, while she somehow became more dormant - less mean and commanding and more, understanding and listening.

"okay, take a look!"

you turned around and faced yourself in the mirror. you smiled widely as you felt rather pretty, wearing the makeup regina had put on you, sparkly yellow eyeshadow and pink mascara. you saw regina biting her bottom lip as she looked at you in the mirror - suddenly you felt shy again and felt a blush fall over your cheeks.

"how do you like it?" regina asked as she turned you to face her.

"i feel really pretty . . . thanks," you mumbled shyly, staring down at your feet

"you are really pretty," she told you in a low tone, placing her finger under your chin and raising your head so you met her eyes. "you're so fucking dumb, how long will it take you to realize i like you, pet?"

she laughed at your confounded expression. you felt your face turn a tomato red and you buried your face in your hands, feeling embarrassed. "i thought you were making fun of me!" you exclaimed between your fingers.

"i was endearingly teasing you, or whatever," regina said in a defensive tone, though she was still falling over laughing at your expression.

"this isn't a prank, right?"

"of course not! now let's finish this dumb project so i can take you out on a date, hoe."

[honey-milk-depresso]

okey so it my first time writing a request T^T but i absolutely love your batboys fics so i wanted to ask about batboy x scarlet witch reader ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Scarlet Witch = Baddiest of the Baddies ❤️ I love her

Main 3 Batboys with a Scarlet Witch s/o (GN)

Dick Grayson

Talk about being such a total hottie! That’s what he said out loud when he saw you for the first time. But who can blame him when you’re so cool using your insane witchcraft powers? Absolutely no one.

Dick finds you so cool: when you conjure up spells and hover about in the air like a ethereal being from above (and you are to him), he can’t help but be absolutely in awe of you. In other words, he’s your biggest simp, he’s absolutely smitten for you.

You know how cartoon witches have their own evil minion beside them? Dick’s acting like that with you whenever you two are on a mission or on a patrol.

“Nightwing, hand me my spell book so I can put this demon in place.”

“ANYTHING FOR YOU, S/O—”

But… he also feels sorry for you. There were times you just couldn’t take the stress of things and when he came into your room to talk, he found himself in a completely different world you created out of your power as a form of escapism and engulf yourself in your own imaginary world to shield yourself away from the harsh realities of your life. While impressive… he sympathises.

He doesn’t have powers like you, but when he was younger he used to dream in his sleep he was still with his parents at the circus, living the life. But he’s grown from that to know when to move on. If something unfortunate or even small has happened to you, he’ll always be there in your little sphere of your imaginary world, whispering sweet things about how things will be okay to hopefully get you to open up to him and that you don’t have to always rely on your powers to feel better.

He’ll always be here for you…

…and he’s completely downbad for you. But he loves you is all that matters- <3

Jason Todd

And he probably liked you immediately because you wear red and you have a shade of red in your name. Jason won’t be a simp immediately, but as time goes on I bet you the sum of Bruce Wayne’s net worth that he’ll be on his knees for you everyday.

Your witch powers are just so cool? Hello??? He loves going on patrols or missions with you just to see you in action. I’m also very convinced that Jason has thought of asking you to join the Outlaws (either version). You’d make a perfect addition.

Like Dick, he probably sympathises on your escapism habits through using your powers to create an illusion of an imaginary world suited just only for you, and probably a lot more. He didn’t have a very good upbringing, and a lot of time while his parents were arguing and the environment of his home got too scary, he’ll shut himself out and dream of himself in his own little world to escape the situation around him. It’s just that for you, you take that to a whole new level.

Jason, while he understands your reasons for this, he knows by experience it’s not healthy. You’ve got people around you who you can confide and if you feel insecure to share your feelings, he’s there for you. You shouldn’t feel ashamed to tell him.

He’s not so good with words, but he’ll sit there and listen if you want him to. He’ll hold your hand in his and hopefully get you to open yourself up more to him and confide in him instead of relying solely on your powers.

Overall, he’s in love with you. <3

Tim Drake

Tim finds your powers really interesting (and cool). He’s always asking questions about them: “How does it feel when you use astral projection?” “Have you ever travelled across multiworlds?” “Probability manipulation? How does that work? Mathematically or…”

Yeah, he’ll be yapping a lot when he’s around you. But he does find you quite dangerous if you’re not on his side, luckily you are though so he thinks your powers are super cool but also super life threatening if you aren’t careful but he trusts that you can handle your own powers.

Tim also likes to ask about your witchcraft and magic (and maybe his D&D brain is sparking when he asks about it), he always wants to be beside you to see the kind of spell books you’re reading. You’d also be surprise of how many languages he knows if the book is in Latin or some otherworldly language, like how does he knows?? Let’s be real, he knows just to impress you-

Oof… escapism? When has he not ever try to escape reality in his life? Out of the three, this habit of yours hits him too hard to home. When he was a child and up until now, him sleeping for the very little moments he has before he needs to get to work is his own form of escapism and imagining things are okay.

He feels a bit hypocritical for saying this to you, but he knows it’s not always healthy doing that. Tim, like the rest, will sit beside you in your little bubble of illusion, hugging you close and kissing you softly, asking whether or not you want him to share your feelings to him and that you can confide in him.

He just wants you to know you’re not alone, and that he’ll always be there for you if you need him. <3

Reblogs help! ^^

[liliewrites]

"IN THE HEARTHFIRE'S EMBRACE"

a/n ; HALLOO:DD so, here's the first part of the "let the world burn" series inspired by the song of the same name from chris grey. more women will be added to the list as i go, so feel free to drop some suggestions which genshin women you think would be a great addition to the series. anywaay, thanks for readingg:))

-warning/s ; a bit of descriptive violence, mentions of blood and burning but not directed at the reader. -pairing/s ; arlecchino x fem!reader.

where in ; these women would go against every person in teyvat-- would even watch teyvat burn, all for your sake.

(men please dni utc!)

“Lynette, whatever happens, keep your mother safe.”

The words rang in the little girl’s ears repeatedly as she held the older woman’s hands. They were not related by blood in any way, but this woman had taken care of her, raised her and nurtured her for as long as she could remember. So she keeps her father’s words, and protects the woman with what she has.

“There they are! The wife of the Knave!!”

With an annoyed curse beneath a whisper, Lynette grabs onto your hand tightly, pulling you to run away as the spies have found you in your hiding spot. Tired, panting and breathless- your legs felt like it was about to give out, but thanks to the adrenaline spiking through your body, you just kept running, and running, and then finding yourself driven in a corner with nowhere to escape as the spies had surrounded you from all sides.

Despite being struck with fear, your motherly instincts came first as you held your precious daughter in your arms, wanting to protect her more than wanting to be protected by her.

“Mother, I can… I can handle this!” Lynette exclaimed, but you knew better, it was two against half a dozen grown men and only Lynette was capable of fighting out of the two of you but her alone would not be enough to face them. “My child, settle down, I'd rather die than witness you slain in front of me. Let me protect you, so hush.” 

You whispered, tears starting to form in the corner of your eyes as immense fear ran through your veins. You closed your eyes shut to brace yourself for impact, heart filled with dread as one of the men neared you with a blade of his own. He let out a sickly chuckle at your demise, the wife of the Knave’s to be precise, then raising his arm up to—

“Fucking imbeciles.”

—to fall in front of you beheaded, with warm and thick blood splattered against you and the child in your arms. You opened your eyes to look up but you already knew who it was and to your horrific relief, it was your wife covered in blood who stood menacingly in the background. Her hand letting go of her scythe that she earlier held with a grip so tight, her hands trembled while she slayed the wretched men in blinded fury then she started to slowly walk towards you.

You gasped at the sight and immediately covered Lynette's eyes as she was no more than just a child who although you knew was no stranger to this kind of scenery, you still wanted to shield her from the gruesome sight. Nonetheless, still, you felt glee to see your wife.

As for said wife, Arlecchino’s chest was heaving in pure, unfiltered wrath and with no remorse stepped upon the men’s lifeless bodies in a rather harsh manner. Her sharp, pointed heels stabbed itself into the flesh as she made her way towards you through the fire she had caused in the midst of tearing the men apart just a few moments ago.

— but as soon as she reached you, the look in her eyes softened and all hostility she held had instantly melted away. Replaced by a vulnerable and fragile display of guilt and fear as the apathetic mask she’d mastered to put on for years straight had cracked for a brief moment out of fear for you. “My beloved, I am deeply sorry for arriving so late...” she apologized and her tone sounded so different than how she insulted the man who almost killed you. She gently pulled you up into her arms and held you and her daughter with a relieved sigh. 

“I didn't realize that a few had escaped and chased after you, my beloved. I am terribly, terribly sorry for making such a horrible mistake.” Her voice was shaky and you knew that behind the tough exterior she tried to put on, her heart was broken beyond a million pieces at the thought of almost losing you. 

“My dear, it is alright. Lynette kept me safe, and we are alive.” You tried to reassure her, but at the moment you had mentioned the word “alive”, the intense emotions kicked in as she was reminded of the fact that if she arrived just even a second late, you and her daughter would’ve been dead along with the men that lay on the ground. The raging embers of fury ignited once more, so she separated for a moment to summon countless burning crimson blades in thin air one after another, embedding it into the lifeless bodies that lay on the ground. After her little outburst, she looked at the burning men with a glare and held you tightly to keep you safe and secure to provide you solace, amidst the burning chaos of flames that surrounded all three of you.

“My beloved, if you were to die at the hands of such crooked men, tainted and ruined, I could never find it in my heart to watch the world prosper without you as it’d have no meaning at all.”

She spoke with such conviction that it felt like a comforting flame that soothed the fear in your heart but to those who dare lay a finger on you, this served as a threat as this same woman who held you and your child with such a gentle hold and looked at you with tender eyes swearing that she would be capable of attempting to kill the Tsaritsa with her bare hands in a heartbeat— if it meant protecting you.

There is no sane bone in her body, that was indeed a fact, but if you were to be taken away from her then she’d be willing to watch the world go poof, drowned in the flames of her agony of your loss if it were to ever happen.

[cozycottagetarot]

Why Did They Come Into Your Life?

How To Pick A Group:

Typically I recommend going with the image that you find you keep coming back to after giving each of the piles a once over.

Notes:

This reading will probably work best for anyone who you:

Feel a strong bond with and are curious about its significance.

Are seeking clarity on the role of a certain person might be playing in your life journey.

Potentially: Have encountered someone who left a lasting impression.

This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨

Content Warning: One of the piles did take on a bit of a heavier tone (not the person's presence, but your background) I've added a content warning explaining a little more at the beginning of it!

LINKS: Dividers | Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings- Open

GIVEAWAY: Personal Reading Giveaway (June 2024) — Closed ✨

PILE 1

Cards: Seven of Spring, The Lovers, Ten of Summer, The Moon, Eight of Winter

This person could be...

This feels like you might be thinking of an ex (you’re on good terms with) and may still be a part of your life, a one-sided crush (as in you genuinely don't know if they feel the same), a friend… someone who has you captivated. This person did not break your heart or hurt you intentionally if that's an aspect of the relationship. Someone from in the last two years. If it’s someone current then… they’re very supportive of you— actively supportive. It doesn't feel like someone you’re currently in a relationship with but you think highly of them. If none of these fit then I’d say choose another pile.

I feel like this person came into your life to help you become the radiant version of yourself. They entered your life to help you find yourself, believe in yourself, and stand up for yourself. They came to bring you clarity and show you where your happiness lies. While this reading isn’t necessarily romantic, I'd still get the vibe it is/was even if I removed The Lovers. It feels like they have you under some sort of spell or have left a lasting impression on you. Music could be an important aspect here too... either they brought the music back into your life; maybe music is something you share, or they inspired you to pursue it in some format. This could be someone you thought you'd have a forever connection with (in some cases there's still hope for that), or if you know them now, there’s potential for a lifelong bond. You used to hold yourself back and hide from the world, but with this person's presence, you're now stepping out into it with full force.

They came to show you not to fear the unknown, but also to help you gain direction. The seven of spring (wands) would typically be followed by the eight of wands in the traditional tarot deck, which can signify sudden changes and actions. In this deck, the fairy on the card is in an action pose 🦸, symbolizing boldness and assertiveness. What I get from this is you’re gaining confidence and in turn everything is seemingly going to start happening at once. This person could also prevent you from standing in your own way (eight of winter).

In general, they offer you a lot of emotional support, which I feel you may really need at the moment. They make you feel loved and valued—this is someone you want in your life forever, and it feels like they will be, though this is a general reading. I think they also came to show you how to have a good time. This person might be a fling or short-lived but intense friendship, but even then, it’s the kind of experience where you'll reminisce about what you two had fondly and find yourself giggling about in old age.

PILE 2

This person could be...

Oh my gosh, I’m getting so many different things from this pile but overall I think you’ll like it.

This could be someone you knew as a kid or someone who makes you feel like a kid again. They are warm and loving. I’m getting a Cinderella situation or vibe here. Definitely some kind of monumental change or transformation is occurring or has occurred. The person you’re inquiring about could be someone you’re manifesting, and this reading has a heavily romantic tone. If that’s not what you’re looking for, consider a different pile. They could be with you or support you through a very dark time. There’s an emphasis on emotional connection, so if you don’t feel that bond and know it’s reciprocated in some formt, this might not be the group for you either.

This is someone you’ve been waiting for, or it feels like “your soul” has been waiting for. It’s hard to describe, but this person feels like a heart's wish. Whatever your long-term hopes for the future are, this person plays a role in them. For example, if you want a partner with a significant commitment, kids, and a fancy house (sorry, not the most imaginative at this moment), then this person is going to play a significant role in that.

With the card Release (traditionally Death), I feel like this person has come in when a cycle is over or very Very close to closing out, even if it doesn’t feel that way. I emphasize this because the fairy in the card is in a beautiful setting with shimmering lights above them and their eyes closed. I feel like that is you- you can’t see the transformation taking place… yet. There’s also the nine of summer (cups) following the card, where the images remind me of a coronation coupled with a fairy godmother’s transformation. So I feel like this person symbolises or marks that transition even if you don’t see it yet…. For some of you, I feel like this is still to come. I’m not fully sure how to describe what I’m picking up.

The future is being written out in small steps—steps so small you can’t tell. That’s not meant to scare you! I feel like you might be anxious about that at times. But you’re stepping into a new chapter with lovely rewards. It won’t be all sunshine and rainbows, but when you look back, you’ll remember the good times and how you overcame the bad rather than simply dwell on the bad.

I feel like good things are coming to you with this person. Messages like this can feel short, but there’s not much more to say other than congratulations. This person is loving, nurturing, chivalrous, and has a protective energy. I feel like you’ve lucked out.

I keep wanting to say I’m giving you a hug, but I see you’re already taken care of. ♥️

PILE 3

Cards: Four of Summer, Seven of Summer and King of Summer, Queen of Autumn, Life Experience

CW: I don't read about certain topics but will mention them if they come through strongly. This group briefly mentions substance use (in a sentence). There's also brief language 🙄. It's also a tough-love group...

In this group I talk about the person romantically but it can absolutely be any other kind of relationship. I did my best to include both. But if you pick this pile then you gotta stick with me because there are so many different messages in it— ready?

This reminds me of a tarot reading I watched on YouTube that mentioned being addicted to someone who has something physically or materially going for them but wasn’t emotionally available. Meanwhile, getting bored of the sweet, emotionally available, non-chaotic type of [person] that [you] need to balance you out… yeah... that’s the same vibe I’m picking up here. I was curious to see what cards would follow when the four of summer, seven of summer and king of summer came out, and as soon as I saw life experience (the tower) I immediately thought yup that's the vibe!

So there are two scenarios I’m picking up on here. This person is either the loving, emotionally available partner you need and deserve OR this person has f*ck boy (idk what the neutral term is) energy and can potentially lead you down a bad path. I kind of feel like this person whichever persona they are, they're here to push you to make a decision. In the imagery on the four of summer, there’s this child kind of like looking up pleading to an older person who is looking off into the distance. I feel like your inner child or some part of you might be begging you not to make dumb decisions. Sitting with the cards more, this person feels like they are more the 'king of cups' type mentioned above. But on your end, it's like the universe could be shining a big old spotlight on them with multiple arrows saying this person is good for you and you'd be like 'yeahhh but I want something different 🤪'. My love— don’t. It reminds me of the song Chaos Mode by DEZI. I feel like this person came into your life because you’re meant to elevate yourself and live to a certain standard (again wording, sorry) instead of repeating things that are going to leave you unstable.

I also feel like this person or type of person you go for can potentially lead you down a pathway of poor mental health and substance use and while I don’t read about substances/substance abuse if that resonates with you, please take the steps you need to get help/break out of that pattern.

You might also be overly picky. Especially if you’re into manifesting and adjacent practices. So if someone fits the bill of what you want but let’s say they don’t look like it by one detail— this person could be everything you’ve wished for personality-wise and everything you need. So it becomes a case of 'are you gonna let the good thing go because one detail is off or are you going to consider if it should legitimately be a dealbreaker'? And what I mean by little things is they look how you want minus a specific piercing or hair cut 🤨, that’s essentially what I get. Long story short, this person came in to make you make up your damn mind.

This person might not be forever either, but they may be the start. I think they’re also here to help you regain your focus on what’s important to you. I know I’ve been tearing into you this whole time (all out of love 🥰) but with the queen of autumn I feel like you have such a lovely personality and demeanour but someone or a certain set of people or event/s have distorted how you see yourself.

Overall, don’t be afraid to change and go after something better. I feel like you’ve been through something significant at some point and the person you’re inquiring about is acting as a guide to bring you to something better.

I’m sending you love, pile three 💕

PILE 4

Cards: Ego, Ten of Autumn, The High Priestess, Awakening, Nine of Autumn, Four of Autumn, Princess of Winter

This person kind of feels like they came into your life because they’re a messenger of some kind. They’re here to help aid, guide or set you on the right path to the long-term destination you seek. You’re not seeing yourself clearly right now or you’re not seeing something clearly.

They make you pause and question: Are you really in alignment? Your priorities may be off, but this person helps you get back into the right place to enjoy where you are now and what’s to come. This feels like someone who works in a profession helping others or has a safe energy to them, but at the same time, you feel wary about them. There’s an older energy to this person, or they may have been through something you’re going through and are trying to help. To summarize, they have a mentor energy.

This person has entered your life to help you trust your intuition and clear the lens through which you view life. I feel like your energy is slightly jaded, but at the same time, you may mirror each other, so it’s hard to tell which of you is rough around the edges. They might be slightly impersonal but wise. They help you do the work so you can enjoy the results. They may assist with how you view yourself and help you become more open and receptive to others.

I don’t know why, but I got an image of Scrooge—that’s what comes to mind. This person helps you go within, get clarity on one thing or another, revive you, and gain a new perspective.

[jvpiterzs]

𐙚 DROWNING OUT THE NOISE — PERCY JACKSON .ᐟ ˚⋆. ˚ ₊ · ͟͟͞͞➳ ꒰ golden retriever!percy jackson x fem!black cat!reader — a riordanverse fic ꒱

— ordered﹔yes / no - here!! — ingredients﹔fluffy whipped cream, use of y/n, purpose use of lowercase alphabet soup, probably not well proofread, lmk if i missed anything! — wc﹔1.2k+ // 9.2 min average reading time — recipe﹔read the order above :) — cassie's tea time﹔YAYYAYAY FIRST REQUEST!! <3 ik campers can't usually use their phones since it sends out signals to monsters and all but i wrote it so the hephaestus cabin made electronics that don't attract monsters and all!! i also didn't know what to put for the photos above sooooo

﹙the cafe // dishes // menu // barista board﹚

y/n always wore her headphones. it was like her shield, a way to drown out the noise of the world around her. social anxiety was something she'd battled for as long as she could remember, and the headphones were her safe place — a place she would retreat into whenever she could.

going to camp half-blood was supposed to be different. it was like the perfect place for misfits and somewhere she could finally feel like she belonged, according to her satyr protector long ago. but on her first day, she found herself reaching for her headphones more than ever. she kept to the edges, avoiding eye contact and hoping to blend into the background. it was ironic; she felt like a misfit in a place full of misfits.

but percy jackson had a way of noticing things. and he noticed her.

percy had always been the kind of person who made friends easily, especially being the saviour of olympus and a son of one of the big three. he had a laid-back, golden retriever kind of personality. so when he spotted the girl, always with her headphones on and keeping to herself, he was naturally intrigued.

"hey," percy said one day, walking up to her after archery practice. y/n looked up, startled, and pulled one side of her headphones off.

"hi," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"sorry, i didn't mean to startle you. i'm percy," he said sheepishly, offering her a friendly smile. "i've seen you around."

"y/n," she introduced herself, fiddling with the cord of her headphones.

"cool headphones," percy remarked, hoping he could ease the tension. "whatcha listening to?"

y/n hesitated, not sure why the percy jackson would be talking to her. she took off her headphones, handing them to percy. percy accepted them with a smile, putting them on as the music flowed into his ear. "no way, you listen to them too?? i swear, i've never seen anyone listen to this artist. i like your taste."

she relaxed a little, a small smile appearing on her face. "i adore them, they're my favourite band ever."

percy couldn't help but grin as she smiled, happy that she relaxed even a little bit. "mine too. what's your favourite song by them?"

days turned into weeks, and percy made it his mission to break through y/n's walls. he started inviting her to join him by the lake, offering her training lessons or sometimes following her around like a lost puppy as she chuckled. slowly but surely, she began to come out of her shell.

one sunny afternoon, percy noticed y/n sitting alone under the shade of a tree by the lake. she gazed at the water as she listened to the music flowing from her headphones. percy approaches her with a wave.

"hey, y/n," percy greets.

"hey, percy." she looked up, giving him a smile and removing her headphones.

"mind if i join you?"

she shook her head, and he settled in beside her. "what're you listening to today?"

y/n handed him her headphones, and percy listened for a moment. "i love this album." he hums before handing the headphones back.

"why d'you always wear your headphones?" percy decides to ask, dipping his hands in the cool water. they always spent their free time there together, not that any of them complained. they enjoyed eachother's company. "you don't gotta answer." he added quickly, not wanting to intrude her privacy.

y/n took a deep breath. "they help me cope. with... pretty much everything. the noise, the people. it all gets too much sometimes." she admits softly, looking down at the headphones in her hands.

percy nodded understandingly. "i get it. everyone needs something to help them through tough times, y'know?"

"yeah," she said softly, meeting his gaze. "i appreciate, by the way. for being so nice to me. i know i'm not the easiest person to be friends with."

"are you kidding?" Percy snorted, shaking his head. "you're awesome. you just need someone to see it."

y/n blushed, looking away as a shy smile played on her lips.. "yeah, maybe."

from that day forward, their friendship only seemed to grow even further. percy was there for her every step of the way, helping y/n find her confidence that she never knew she had. in return, y/n's calm presence helped ground percy's impulsive nature. they balanced each other out perfectly.

y/n realised how much she'd changed. she wasn't the same girl who hid behind her headphones. she still wore them, but now they were like a part of her rather than a shield.

"thank you, percy," she said suddenly as they sat at the beach.

"for what?" he asked, glancing over at her.

"for helping me," she replied, meeting his eyes.

percy smiled, reaching out to take her hand. "always. we're in this together."

it wasn't long before percy realised his feelings for y/n. he wouldn't admit it to himself, though. all of their hangouts by the lake and beach, the times where they'd listen to their favourite artists together, or the times percy had held her hand as he taught her how to wield a sword.. no, it couldn't be.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, a golden glow casting over the camp, percy found himself standing at the edge of the lake, waiting for y/n at their spot. she arrived, headphones around her neck as usual, with a smile that warmed his heart. a smile that y/n knew percy liked, so she wore more often. they sat together, side by side, in comfortable silence.

"percy," y/n said quietly, her voice barely audible over the soft push and pull of the lake's water.

"yeah?" he replied, turning to look at her.

"why are you so nice to me?" she asked, her eyes searching his.

percy took a deep breath, his heart pounding. "because... i like you, y/n. i like spending time with you.uou make everything better. and, well, i.. i think you're pretty amazing."

y/n's eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink. "you do?"

percy nodded, staring down at the lake as he blushed. "yeah, i do. and i want to be there for you, always. if you'll let me."

she reached out and squeezed his hand. "i'd like that, percy. I'd like that a lot."

percy felt a wave of relief wash over him. he had been so nervous about confessing his feelings, but y/n’s response made it all worth it.

y/n turned to percy with a thoughtful expression. "you know, i never thought i’d find someone who understands me like you do."

percy smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "you’ve helped me too, you know."

"how?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"you’ve helped me slow down, appreciate the little things. you’ve shown me that it's okay to take a break and just be in the moment. otherwise i probably would've hurt myself." percy laughed.

y/n laughed along with him, smiling brightly "i'm glad."

percy found himself looking forward to their time together more than anything else. he appreciated every moment when he made her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her favorite music, and the peaceful silence they shared by the lake.

as they sat by the lake, y/n turned to percy with a serious expression. "you’ve helped me so much, percy. i don’t think i can ever thank you enough."

"you don’t have to thank me," he replied, squeezing her hand gently. "i’m just glad i could be here for you."

"i want to do something for you," she insisted. "anything. name it."

percy thought for a moment, then smiled. "just stay by my side and be yourself. that’s all i need."

— thank you for placing your order, and i hoped you enjoyed your meal! kisses from jvpiterzs <3 — cafe guest list﹔n/a

[adora-but-ginger]

Femininomenon

pairing: emily prentiss x gender neutral reader

synopsis: two undercover agents with old flames still burning, reunited once again

warnings: undercover talk, swearing, references to sex so mdni, french words, alcoholic settings (though none is consumed)

main masterlist

the rise and fall of a midwestern princess masterlist

word count: ~2.3k

a/n: OH MAN am i excited for this series!! this is my first time writing for emily, and i am really proud of this one! the order of this series won't necessairly follow the album order, but the beginning to both will be femininomenon. i would love to hear your thoughts, and let me know if you'd like to be tagged! also side note i saw chappell live and it changed something in me.

do not steal or repost my work. reblogs, however, are greatly appreciated!

not proofread whoopsie daises

credit to gif owner!

"Dude, can you play a song with a fucking beat?"

The music was loud, obnoxious, and not even good. Your mind was still racked with the events of the past 72 hours, and you never went to places like this before. A "welcome back/so long" party they said. You did not agree to this, but out of leaving on civil terms, you begrudgingly said you'd attend. It was for you after all.

That being said, the DJ they hired was not that good. You were irritated, it was hot and stuffy here, and you just wanted some sleep. If they were going to play music here, at least make it good.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. What do you want on the queue?"

You couldn't even think of a song name. You had been so out of touch with the present world these past years that you were completely out of the loop on the world's current music taste. Someone next to you recommended one before patting you on the shoulder, and that movement almost made you snap.

This was stupid. Stupid, useless, and a waste of time and money.

The "you're alive and back!" banner was starting to fall, and your irritation was becoming overwhelming. Since when did they even do this sort of thing? You took a deep breath. You were gone for eight years, longer than most stings. Plus, you were switching departments soon anyway, and you supposed that this was the first celebration the team had had in a while. Let them have it, part of you conceded. Fifteen more minutes, then you could leave, you convinced yourself. Fifteen minutes and then--

"Well if it isn't the guest of honor."

You knew that voice. How did you know that voice?

You were still trying to remember how your friends and colleagues looked and talked--a feat harder than you'd like to admit. Whatever song the person had requested was thrumming through the air now, the beat running through you.

You could hear your name being hummed, and you did a 180 to face them.

Emily Prentiss.

How could you have forgotten that voice? You eyed your drink, suddenly wishing it was much stronger than the sprite you currently carried.

"You look a whole lot different since I saw you last." She glanced over you, noticing the weathered changes that came with eight years undercover.

"I guess I'm still trying to figure out who I am again." An ironic chuckle accompanied your words. "Hey, Emily." You slightly raised your cup of soda in greeting, and she returned the same action. "A little birdie told me you switched from undercover?"

Oh man, this was not good. Thank god you knew how to regulate your expressions because your heart was practically escaping your chest. The last time you two had seen each other, you did much more than talk. It was truly a shame that you were called in immediately that next morning, that you knew she'd wake up to the sheets still warm (she was always a light sleeper), that you had a new case being brought to the table and you wouldn't know how long you'd be gone for. A week? A month? Half a year? A whole one?

You definitely did not expect it to be eight years.

What was she doing now? Was she with someone? Was she married? Did she have kids? Did she--"You're doing that thing again, you know."

Your eyes snapped to hers. "What thing?"

The song changed, and you really did not want to be attending this party right now. Even if Emily was here. "The thing where you ruminate into your own world?" She clocked the look in your eyes and nodded to the front doors.

Maybe it was a little rude to leave the main event without saying goodbye, but you did not want to be there any longer, and you getting really overwhelmed. You nodded in agreement and she started to walk toward the refreshing outside air.

The chill greeted you as you approached the nearby picnic table, Emily sitting down across from you.

An awkward silence infiltrated the air.

"So, uh, long time no see?"

She shot you a look, eyebrows raised in a don't give me that manner.

"How are you doing with the assimilation? Any hiccups?"

Eight years--two-thousand nine hundred and twenty-six days. You'd been back for only three, and you couldn't remember how to live a normal life. You weren't assimilating at all.

"Yeah, it's been pretty good."

You could see pity in her eyes. "I don't know how you got this job. You can't lie for shit."

Speaking to her was making old, long-buried feelings crawl their way through the dirt and past the grave. A tension was forming, though not one of bad, more so the type comparable to that of smelling the rain before a storm.

"I just can't lie to you." You crossed your hands on the picnic table. "Never really could, I guess." You mumbled the second part, taking note of the party's noises and the crickets chirping behind you.

She let you talk, patiently drinking up the mere presence of you. She had practically sprinted from the jet upon hearing of your return, memories of you two flooding the gates she had long since locked away.

You were gone for nearly a decade and your social skills were currently in the toilet. It had to mean something that Emily came tonight, right? Not a lot of people knew of you, much less the importance of your return, and as far as you knew word didn't leave the office of this party.

Yet here she was, dressed in her day clothes, nursing a water as she stared at you as if you were not real.

You wanted to tell her everything, what you did, where you went, who you had dealt with the past almost decade, the way her lips still caressed your mind, how the ghost of a possible future kept you was the lamp that led you through the darkness.

You had so much to say, yet you could only get two words out.

"I'm sorry."

That caught her a little off guard. "What are you sorry for?"

You let the evening breeze wrap around you for a moment before speaking. "For leaving without saying goodbye. For finally making a move just to go off the grid. It was long ago, I know, but I felt--feel so horrible that I left you there that morning without even a quick see you tonight letter by your coffee."

She didn't respond, which made that feeling in your gut go even deeper. The evening breeze ran in between you, speaking words you could only wish to say.

It wasn't until her cup was almost empty that she responded.

"Don't sweat it too much. I got called into a case not too long after, was stuck in that for a while too. Seriously, it happened, and there's no bad blood between the two of us."

People were starting to leave the party in the distance, and a wave of relief washed over you. Now you could leave, go back to the sanctioned hotel room you were assigned to until your belongings were recovered and you could find a place to live. It was a shitty situation, sure, but it was a place to lay your head for right now.

"Well, it's getting late, and I'm really tired," a yawn overcame you, "I better get going. I start the new job in a few days, so I need to catch up on as much sleep as I can after the past week." You reached over the table and lightly squeezed her hand. "It was really nice to see you, Emily. Seriously."

She returned the gesture, her hand fitting as nicely in your own now as it did back then. "Of course. You didn't think I'd miss welcoming you back, did you?"

Your hands didn't separate, instead, she smiled as you shot a glance towards them. "Keep in touch, will you? It'd be really nice to reconnect."

A small smile grew on your face and you swiped your thumb over her knuckles. "I will, don't you worry. I don't have my own phone yet, but if you want to give me your number I'll put it in the moment I get one."

You knew she would tease you the second the offer left your lips. "You want my number, huh? Think I'm cute or something?"

A laugh emitted from you, god you forgot how much you missed her. The anxious side of you made you question whether you should be flirty at all with her-- she probably already had a significant other, and there was a slim shot that even if she didn't, you could relight the kindling that was your--whatever it was you two had going on.

Couldn't hurt to test the waters though.

"I think you're alluring, gorgeous, and undeniably charming." You lowered your tone to a whisper as you spoke, leaning over the table. "Not just cute."

She shot a glance at your lips that did not go unnoticed, and you licked them in response.

"Oh, dearest, you're going to make me blush if you keep on talking like that."

"You? blush? These years really have changed you Em." You had to make sure she was single before you continued any further. "Are you seeing anyone these days?"

Hands still interlocked, she gave another squeeze. "You've had my heart since we walked in together as fresh meat ten years ago. You've plagued my every dream for thousands of days--you are the only one my eyes have landed on and will ever."

Slightly shocked at her confession, your mouth dropped partially agape. "Still as bold as ever-which is a good thing-I see. Since when did you become a romantic?" You nodded toward the car you took to get here, and she nodded in understanding.

"Since I found out you were one: still alive, and two: not undercover anymore." You took a minute to observe her as you stood. Black shirt with a flat neckline, dress pants, and hair slightly curled outwards at the end. Still breathtaking as ever. Age had found her face, as it did you, and it made her even more stunning.

"Want to come to my place? I have an extra room if you want." She thought for a second. "Oh, I do have one man in my life." Shock rushed through you, mixed with a tinge of jealousy, and she laughed at your expression. Laughed. A sound that reminded you of a perfect melody. "His name is Sergio, and he's the sneakiest cat you'll ever meet. I love him to dear pieces."

You were speechless, resulting in even more laughter from the raven-haired woman at your side. "You're something else, you know that?"

"I'm sure he'll love you."

She gave you her address ad you got into your vehicle. With a wink and a slap on the door, she was off to her own.

--

You were going to fucking lose it.

It was five years into this mission, and at this point, you didn't know if it would ever end. The layer of domesticity that formed between you and him was so enforced that you had to remind yourself every night that this was your job, and that once you were able to get his company destroyed, things would smooth out.

And you would be able to quit this line of work.

You loved it, you truly did, at first. You were good at what you did, and it made you the best candidate for this operation. That being said, you did not expect to still be living this case. For one, you didn't date men (or have ever been attracted to them.) Yet here you were, legally married to the guy running the upper half of France. It irked you because he had a really sweet sister who under different circumstances you would've loved to be friends with.

There wasn't much left to do today, and the sun was starting to set. You had sent the cleaning person home early; you always did. They liked you because you actually got to know each them, and you still had them paid for the hour or two they missed. This was one of the only chances you had to take a deep breath and do a little reset, remembering why you were here and what you were doing.

You were an outstanding undercover agent. You were coming back to for Emily.

You had repeated that mantra for the past five years, the sentence serving as a tether when things got rough.

Stupid fresh linens that were never used twice. Stupid giant house with its giant gate and giant halls. Stupid--

"Où es-tu, mon amour?" Where are you, my love?

There he was, and there duty called.

"Je serai là!" I'll be right there!

Once her name had infiltrated your mind, she enveloped it. Does Emily still even remember you? Is she still alive? Does she still care?

You were doing this for her. And if that meant you had to wait a few more years, then so be it. She was your solace, your grounding rock.

"Mon amour?" my love?

"En chemin!" on my way!

Until you were able to hold her in your arms again, you could only hope that things worked out.

Emily rubbed a soothing hand over your back as you softly fell asleep, body entangled with hers. She knew within a second that there was no chance you'd be sleeping in separate beds. Plus, you needed a sense of comfort, a familiar face, and that's what she was. She never had anyone to pick her back up after Doyle, so she would be that person for you.

It was odd, having you back. It was going to take a while to get everything situated and in a groove, but she was willing to walk that path with you.

She always thought it was the same old story with her previous relationships, but then you came along.

And god damn, did she love you.

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 4

Word Count- 3.1k

Warnings- Swearing, spoilers obi.

My fingers graze the texture of my history textbook. My eyes read through each line. Before I know it I’m at the end of the page, and yet I can’t recall a single sentence I had just “read.” I let out a loud sigh and closed the book, placing it back in place on my desk. Ever since the day I got kidnapped this has been a problem. Without being on edge, I can’t focus on school work, the people around me, or myself. Every time I walk by someone I instantly tense up to the idea of them being something supernatural. I know that Elena has told me everyone in town that she knows is a part of that world but she can’t possibly know when a complete stranger is. 

Worrying about who is supernatural isn’t the only thing that’s been plaguing my thoughts, either. All night I was tossing and turning with the thought of Elijah. Damon and Elena knew as much as I did about how he was still alive. Elena had told me that a vampire could be killed with a wooden stake, and yet it had only affected Elijah temporarily. 

“He’s going to destroy you.”

Kathrine’s words ring in my ears. Stefan had told me not to believe a word she says, but given that these people don’t seem to know what the hell is going on either, I’ve let her words get to me. The look of fear in her eyes at the thought strikes me to my core every time I think back to it. If a vampire that is magically locked up is afraid of this Elijah guy, then I sure as hell will be too. 

I jump slightly in shock as I hear knocking on my door, I untense when I hear my mother’s voice on the other side though. 

“Y/N, you have a friend here to see you,” I stand up and open my door to talk to her but freeze when I see Damon standing behind her. His lips curve up into a smirk and moves his fingers up and down in a wave as he stares at me.

“Your friend Damon here is so kind to drop in to check on you. I had no idea you were feeling under the weather.” 

I glance at my mother and fight the urge to roll my eyes. Although we look so much alike I couldn’t be more different from her. Where I actually take the time to listen to people and try to understand people my mother seems to only care about what benefits her. I’m not surprised at all that she hasn’t noticed my change in attitude these past few days since she never seemed to care before. 

She clears her throat at the silence she gets from me, “Well, I’ll let you talk. I have to be going anyways,” She turns to Damon who fakes a smile at her, “I have a work trip this weekend.”

“Work on the weekends, well that’s no fun,” Damon responds with a flirtatious tone that makes me want to gag. My mother on the other hand turns red.

“No worries, I always find a way to liven things up,” She leans closer to him, “Even though it would be more fun with some company.”

“Mom, you should be going now,” I interrupt before I throw up on both of them. 

My mother nods and says her goodbyes to both of us, mostly Damon, and walks back down the hallway. I let out a sigh of relief but then tense up when I realized that Damon had just entered my room.

“What are you doing here,” I watch as he looks around my small room. After my mother and father’s divorce, my mother wasn’t left with very much money so we had to make do with what we could scrounge up. After moving and divorce costs we left with a tiny 3 bedroom 1 bath single story home here in Mystic Falls. It looks like a shoe box compared to the other houses in this town, but I don’t really care since I plan to move away from here the second I graduate. 

“I need a favor,” Damon says to me as he picks up the stuffed frog I have on my bed and tosses it around in his hands. 

“What kind of favor?”

Damon places the frog back on my bed, “Well, after your and Elena’s little suicide excursion yesterday we’ve magically locked her in her house, and I need you Pukerella to go babysit.” 

I send him a glare at the nickname, “If Elena’s locked in her house why do you need me to babysit her?”

Damon rolls his shoulders and walks towards the door, “I don’t need you to do anything. I want you to go to Elena’s and let me know if she plans on calling the big bad vampire to come sacrifice her.” 

“So you want me to be your spy?”

Damon thinks at the question for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, “Ya, pretty much.”

I shake my head, “I’m not going to spy on my only friend.”

Damon lets out an annoyed groan and pinches the bridge of his nose as if this is the most annoying conversation he’s had, “Fine then you won’t be my spy, you’ll be the babysitter I hired for Elena. There happy? Now come on I got other stuff to do today other than arguing with you, people to go kill and stuff like that you know?”

Damon grabs me by my upper arm and practically drags me out of my room and down the hallway toward the front door. He ignores my yells of anger as he opens the door to his car and pretty much pushes me in. I huff as he speeds over to his side and starts the car.

“Oh and by the way,” I slowly turn my head to glare at him as he starts talking, “You might want to get some vervain for yourself and your family. It was too easy getting your mother to invite me into your quaint home.” 

—-

“We could watch Pretty Woman?” Elena asks Jeremy and I as we sit on the couch. Jeremy lets out a loud groan at the question making Elena laugh.

“Guess not,” She flips through some more channels before she lets out a sound of excitement, “Oh! Grease!” Elena goes to play the movie but Jeremy snatches the remote from her hand.

“No way, not happening. I have seen that movie far too many times because of you and Mom. I’m going to decide.”

It takes Jeremy another 10 minutes to scroll through the channels deciding on a movie. Every time he picks one Elena disagrees and they start arguing over it until they start searching again. This has pretty much been what we’ve been doing for the whole hour in which I’ve been at the Gilbert residence. After Damon kicked me out of his car and drove off I’ve just been listening to the Gilbert siblings argue. It’s not that bad though. Jenna, Jeremy and Elena’s aunt, supplied us with snacks a bunch of snacks before she had to leave for something she had to go do.

“Aha!”

I turn to the TV to see what Jeremy picked and cringe as I see the beginning credits for “The Human Centipede.”

Elena’s sound of disgust mirrors mine as she stands up, “This is no use. Y/N do you just want to go up to my room?” 

I glance at the TV again momentarily and nod my head, “Defiantly.”

—

“You’ve got to read this book I just got,” Elena jumps up from her spot on the floor next to me and goes to her bookshelf, “The romance in it is so steamy and the main male character in it is so hot!” She stops and blushes at what she just said.

“Don’t tell Stefan,” She points at me.

I laugh as I bring my fingers to my lips and pretend to lock them, “You’re secret is safe with me.”

Elena and I had been making small talk until I had mentioned that I liked reading, which caught her attention. She had told me she does too and we began talking about our favorite books and genres. To which we found out we’re both fans of romance, jumpstarting an hour-long discussion. 

Elena sits back down next to me and hands me her book. I strum through the pages.

“I’ll make sure to read it and let you know what I think.”

She nods and looks away as if in thought, “I can’t believe we didn’t become friends earlier. Why is that?” 

Her question has me stirring uncomfortably, “Honestly I’m not that surprised. I’m not that noticeable.” 

This comment has Elena furrowing her eyebrows and shaking her head, “You’re joking right,” At my look of confusion she continues, “Of course I noticed you. I mean when you come to a small town like this it’s hard not to be noticed but what I mean is that I always thought you were cool.”

I can feel my cheeks warm up at her compliment and I glance down at my fingers to hide it.

“You thought I was cool?”

“Ya of course,” She responds instantly, “You’ve got great style and you’ve got this mysterious aura about you. I just never approached you because I thought you didn’t like me.” 

Her confession has me looking up and frowning, “Why would you think that?”

She shrugs her shoulders, “You just kind of sometimes look like you don’t want to be approached by anyone. I just assumed. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head at her apology, “Don’t apologize! And no, I never hated you I always thought you were the cool one. I just think I have that look on my face all the time.”

Elena laughs and smiles at me, “OK, good.”

“Good.”

We’re about to start talking about books again when we hear the front door open.

“Jenna must be home,” Elena says as she stands up and reaches her hand down for me to grab. I grab it and pull myself up and we walk downstairs. 

We turn the corner and we both give each other a look as we see Jenna on the ground rummaging through some boxes. 

“Hey. What are you doing,” Elena questions her Aunt.

“Oh perfect timing,” She grabs a cardboard box and hands it to Elena, and then gives another to me.

“Whoa. Oh. What is this stuff?”

“Your mom’s files from the historical society. I got roped into helping Mrs. Lockwood,” Jenna grabs her box and stands up, “And by roped, I mean very excited to participate.”

I silently laugh as I try to balance the heavy box in my arms, the laughing stops though once Jenna closes the door and I lock eyes with the man who’s been haunting my every waking thought. 

“Hey, I’m Elijah.”

Elena and I stand there frozen as we watch Jenna interact with the vampire. 

“Elijah’s in town doing research on Mystic Falls,” She introduces us not knowing we’ve already had the displeasure of meeting. 

I freeze up and grip the box I’m holding tighter to my chest as Elijah walks closer to us. He quickly greets Elena, skating her hand before turning his full attention onto me. I’m visibly shaking right now and it only worsens as Elijah reaches his hands up and grabs the box from my hands. His fingers grazed mine for longer than needed. 

“Here let me take this,” He places the box back down and reaches his hand up to me in greeting. 

We both stand there looking at each other for what seems like forever as he waits for me to shake his hand.

“I don’t like being touched,” I blurt out. Elijah slowly lowers his hand and I might be mistaken but from the look on his face, he almost appeared saddened by that. 

Jenna joins us again telling Elijah that he can stay here and rummage through the boxes, to which he turns down. I try to find the wall behind Elena interesting to keep my line of sight away from the vampire, but I can still sense him staring at me. After another moment he tells Jenna he’s going to have someone pick up the boxes tomorrow and bids Jenna and Elena a farewell. I almost think he’s left us but when I look back over I find that Elijah has moved even closer and he gives me a warm smile and leans down.

“I hope to speak with you again soon, Miss Y/L/N.” My chest starts moving up and down rapidly, which he seems to have noticed, as I nod at his words. He doesn’t seem to get that I won’t be saying anything back to him because he stands there staring at my face. After what seems like a lifetime I watch as he moves by me towards the front door, but not before he lifts a finger and grazes the end of my sweater. 

I watch with bated breath as he shuts the door behind him. Elena doesn’t waste any time before dragging me up the stairs and banging on Jeremy’s door. As she goes to open the door I feel a hand grab my waist and pull me. My back hits something strong and I go to squeal but it comes out muffled as a hand moves over my mouth. I look up and freeze as I stare up at Elena to whom he motions to be quiet. I hear Jeremy open his door but I can’t focus on any of the words he’s saying as I watch Elijah’s face. I make note of the light stubble that runs across his jawline and the practically flawless skin he has. Lucky ass vampires. My staring must’ve caught his attention, as his dark brown eyes meet mine. Once again the corners of his lips turn upwards into a small smile as he watches me watch him. 

Jeremy walking by us catches my attention and Elijah drops the hand from my mouth, but not before leaning down, and what I could’ve sworn was sniffing my hair. Elena quickly grabs my hand and pulls me away from Elijah and for a second I almost feel annoyed at this. Clearly not as annoyed as Elijah though was lets out a snarl, making Elena go rigid. 

“What do you want?”

Elijah composes himself once, “I think it’s time we three at a little chat.”

—-

“Forgive the intrusion. I mean your family no harm,” Elijah tells Elena as he walks around her room.

“Why did you kill those vampires when they tried to take me,” Elena questions him as she comes to sit down next to me on her bed. 

“Because I didn’t want you to be taken,” Elijah says confusing both Elena and I, “Klaus is the most feared and hated of the Originals but those who fear him are desperate for his approval. If word gets out that the doppelganger exists there’ll be a line of vampires eager to take you to him and I can’t have that.”

A cold feeling runs up and down my spine at the mention of Klaus. 

“Isn’t that exactly what you’re trying to do,” Elena questions him again. 

“Let’s just say that my goal is not to break the curse.”

My eyebrows furrow in confusion at the confession. Elijah looks at Elena and then brings his eyes towards me for a moment before turning back to Elena as she begins speaking. 

“So what is your goal?”

“Klaus’ obsessions have made in paranoid. He’s a recluse. He trusts only those in his immediate circle.”

“Like you?”

“Not anymore.”

“An old ass paranoid vampire, how much better could this be,” I whisper out loud to myself sarcastically. I look up and see Elijah looking at me with a small smirk on his face as he must’ve heard my comment. 

“You don’t know where he is do you,” Elena questions but he doesn’t turn his gaze away from me, “So you’re trying to use me to draw him out.” 

Elijah lets out a sigh as he turns his attention back towards my friend, “Well, to do that I need you to stay put and stop trying to get yourself killed.”

He gives her a smile and I have to stop myself from smiling at it. 

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Well, if I wasn’t being truthful, all your family would be dead and I’d be taking you to Klaus right now. Instead… I’m here and I’m prepared to offer you a deal.”

And the smile was instantly gone. 

This grabs Elena’s attention, “What kind of a deal?”

Elijah stands up and starts walking around, “Do nothing. Do nothing, live your life, stop fighting. And then, when the time is right, you and I shall draw Klaus out together and I shall make certain that your friends remain unharmed.”

“And then what?”

“Then I kill him.”

“Just like that?”

Elijah smirks at her, “Just like that. I’m a man of my word, Elena. I make a deal, I keep a deal.”

“How are you going to be able to keep everybody safe?”

“You know, I notice you have a friend, Bonnie, is it? She seems to possess the gift of magic. I have friends with similar gifts.”

“You know witches.” Elena nods her head to which I fight the urge to say “duh” to. This guy is oldddd, of course, he knows witches. 

“Together we can protect everybody that matters to you.” 

I watch silently as Elijah walks over to Elena and reaches his hand out for her to shake, “So do we have a deal?”

“As long as you keep my friends safe,” Elena looks over to me, “Y/N is one of those friends.” 

Elijah looks over to me and smirks, “Trust me deal or no deal. No one will be laying a finger on Y/N. That I give you my word on.”

I fidget under his intense stare.  

“I need you to do one more thing for me.”

Elijah turns back to face Elena with an incredulous look, “We’re negotiating now?”

Elena tells Elijah she’ll accept his deal if he gets his witches to free Stefan from some vampire tomb he’s been trapped in. Why has no one told me this yet? Elijah reluctantly agrees and they shake hands, cementing their deal. With one last glance toward me, Elijah nods his head and speeds away. 

Elena and I both let out shaking breaths as we stared at each other. 

“Any chance you want to spend the night,” Elena asks me hopefully with a sheepish look.

I nod my head quickly, “My mom is out of town and my brother’s at a sleepover. There’s no way in hell I’m going back to that empty house tonight.”