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#so i don't blame anyone for trying different things out
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posting on here is like my sisyphean boulder i'm constantly rolling tbh
#god i am trying so hard to just have fun and be myself#but when i do that i'm immediately a strange outsider creep#and since i can't really mask my version of masking is just not talking and then obviously you don’t find any joy in fandom spaces either#i will always be a shitty unlikable freak no matter how much i pretend otherwise. it was obvious from the start that getting involved in#fandom spaces was a fucking mistake. it's always a mistake because you're some laughing stock at best and a horrifying freak at worst#i don't blame people for not liking me i've realised what an awful person i am long ago#but it's always so hard witnessing something like fun social groups from the sidelines knowing you'll never be a part of it#this is why my mental state has been deteriorating so severely in the last few months. that Realisation once again nothing fucking changed#i know it's stupid to get so upset over fandom but it's only a pattern for me#i stopped trying to be friends with people when i was a teenager because it hasn't worked a single time#this attempt at integrating myself into the wotr and bg3 fandom by sharing my shit was just one mistake#gortash/zeke is so different from anybody else’s work and i wish i could find joy in something that it isn’t fucking deranged but i can’t#like yes it’s just fandom bullshit! gortash/zeke is a fucking oc x canon ship! why am i getting so upset over it!#i love writing them. i’ve never been this happy writing anything. and it’s entirely indicative of a common pattern in my life#when i earnestly share parts of myself/things i’m passionate about people get creeped out. and honestly? rightfully so#i would leave the discord servers i’m in because it’s fucking crushing me dude. this is so petty but i’m so jealous of what you people have#but in one i am server owner and i don’t want to just dump that responsibility onto someone else and then dip#and in the other two i’m not sure anyone would even notice that i’m gone but i still worry about being rude#though i’m not entirely sure i didn’t get invited to one of those just so people could laugh at me. idk probably just being paranoid but i#it’s been gnawing at me#ok no if i’m being this vulnerable on tunglr.com i can also say that part of me staying is also still having the hope that i could fit in#one day. logically i know it won’t happen but it’s nice to have hope sometimes#watching you all from through the window having fun like a creep#so yeah. i’ve always felt like this but it’s been rapidly getting worse with my failed attempt at the bg3 fandom#idk just been crying non-stop for the last few hours. went through an entire pack of tissues in an hour it’s very disgusting#they’re all lying around me as i’m typing this like a pillowfort of snot lmao#so yeah. idk. if someone could come over and lobotomise me that’d be nice. orin where are you when we need you most#i never had any friends irl so i foolishly gave this a shot. i’m sorry#also doesn’t help that i can see someone dropping me for people that are easier to be around in irl rn#it just hurts because it’s always like that. someone you are around when you have no other option at best. not even that sometimes
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peachesofteal · 6 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader - reader POV
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You have a problem.
You miss your neighbor.
He's been gone for two and a half weeks, and every day you catch yourself holding your breath, listening for him next door. Watching for the light on his balcony, checking your phone relentlessly.
You've been worrying, anxiety turning into a gnawing ache beneath your ribs, wondering about how he is, what he's doing, if he's okay. If he's safe.
He'll text you. Right? When he's home? He said he would, didn't he? You're not sure. Not sure of anything when it comes to him, confusing thoughts and feelings turning over and over in your head every second, twisted up and tangled in your heart.
You've friend zoned yourself, you know it. Relying on him too much, asking him for help all the time, inviting him for dinners but too afraid to try to take the next step. And didn't you do it to yourself anyway? Didn't you ask him to babysit for you, so you could go out on a date with some asshole that didn't even show? He's your friend. He's your neighbor.
Yeah but he asked you to go for dinner, the night you were sick. And he rushed to you and Emma when that creep was following you in the park. Doesn't that mean something?
He asked you AND Emmaline to dinner, not like on a romantic date. And he did the same thing anyone would do, if they thought their friend was in trouble, didn't he?
He doesn't act like your neighbor. He acts more like... a husband, than anything else.
Not knowing is confusing, and on top of your grief, it makes you feel a little more vulnerable than you care to admit, but you can't deny your own truth. You like him. Even Emmaline likes him, little face smiling up at him every chance she gets, staring at him like he's the whole world. Maybe he is. You can't help but swoon over the way she interacts with him, how she settles so easily with him, how she coos and babbles at him like she's having a whole conversation with him. When he walks into a room, she lights up like the sun, happy baby giggles and everything, the sweet sounds of her glee at her favorite person's face like music to your ears. So unfair. You suffered for sixteen hours trying to give birth to her, alone... and he comes around for a few months and all the sudden you've been replaced.
You can't blame her too much, you guess. You get it. He's... something else. Something you're not sure you understand. Something you don't know you're ready for.
Still, you think he might feel the same way.
You shake your head. Stop. You're getting so far ahead of yourself.
Which is why you've convinced yourself that when he's home, the next time you see him, you're just going to buck up and do it. You're going to tell him how you feel. No matter how hard it is.
You've even practiced what you'll say. Staring at yourself in the mirror nervously, reciting different ways to say 'hey Simon I really like you and was wondering if you want to go out on a date even though I have a baby and am basically a widow.'
Emmaline cries, announcing that she's awake, and you're so quick to soothe her, holding her to your chest, whispering a good morning to her, rubbing her back and tummy as you always do. You think some people might say you're spoiling her, that you're not letting her cry long enough, that you're teaching her bad habits or manners but you can't help it. Her father died before she was even born. You're the only thing she has in this world, the only person that gives her love, that makes her feel safe-
or at least, you used to be.
You hear your neighbor in his flat hours and hours later. Well past sunset, Emmaline already sleeping in her crib, your dishes already done, little chores taken care of, and you're sitting on the couch with a glass of wine, watching a movie at a low hum.
Was that- is he?
You sit straight up, straining to listen. It takes a second, but eventually, you recognize the tell tale sound of an interior door closing, and then the balcony glows with the light from the inside.
He's home. You take a large gulp of wine, and a deep breath. Just go over there, and tell him how you feel.
Your fingers curl into a fist, hesitantly knocking at his door, holding your breath. When there's no response, you try again, a little louder, and then feel immense relief when the lock clicks.
Until it opens.
Simon doesn't look like himself. He looks lost. Haunted. There's remnant of black grease around his eyes and instead of being maskless or wearing the usual cloth one, his head is mostly covered by a balaclava bearing a skull, and his eyes are blank. Dark. Something is off.
"Hi." You squeak, and cringe inwardly, stomach flipping like you're on a carnival ride. You raise the two bottles of beer that you brought over with a meek smile, gesturing to them and the monitor. "Thought we could um... try this again?"
"No." His refusal is flat, rough, and you blink in surprise. No?
"Oh- I uh... just thought-"
"It's not a good time." He cuts you off, and then before you can even get another word out, the front door closes in your face, leaving you outside in the hall, bewildered. Hurt.
Guess he doesn't like you after all.
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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months
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Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader x
Top of the Food Chain
I've always wanted to continue my naga!mha fic but considering i dont write for deku+co anymore, i decided to move my au a couple fandoms over:D 1.8k wc
Part two , Part three
(Warnings: animal deaths, blood, obsession, dark content, slight gun threat but not rlly, polyamory, gender ambigious!reader) 
Despite being here for nearly a week, you still don't think Satoru understood how delicate you are. 
He's overbearing, in that sense. Constantly poking and prodding and squeezing until your lungs give and you're forced to squeak. You can't blame him for not understanding. He's an animal, after all. Inhuman. Despite his skin and hair, the scales coating his tail give away just how different he is. He was probably born fighting, kicking, and screeching his way through the foliage, hunting, chewing, and biting. 
He's not like you when all you knew when you were younger was coddling and softness. You can see it in his scars, and bruises, and marks. 
Luckily, for you, Suguru had an inkling that you weren't made for sharp claws. 
It's not a fight, you can tell when they're fighting, it's more like a warning? A minor disagreement. Suguru hisses at the other naga, scrunching up his face, showing his teeth. Satoru is quick to respond, but a little more playful. Fortunately for you, the black-haired male seems to win the argument. Satoru's coils loosen around you. Air stops fighting its way to get into your lungs. 
You finally go lax in his hold. Satoru seems to enjoy that, dipping his head to bury his face into the base of his neck. The first few times he did that, you were afraid he was trying to bite off your jugular. Now, you think it's just another way he can soak up your body heat. 
Maybe you've been here for longer than a week. At this point, you couldn't really tell. Hope that you'd be found was starting to slowly fizzle away. The explosion had been massive. The ship had sunk in a matter of minutes. With a disaster that huge, you doubt anyone would still be looking for survivors. Especially on an uncharted island, where myth had turned into reality. 
 Satoru had been the one you'd woken up to. Washed ashore, barely conscious. You were half-certain he was planning on eating you with the way he held your leg, watching your muscles bend and turn. In his defense, he must have thought you were dead. Your shrill scream quickly convinced him otherwise. 
It was barely a fight. More or less, a pathetic kidnapping as he grabbed your body, slinging it over his shoulder. You've never remembered screaming and crying so loudly before, convinced you were about to be eaten. Suguru probably heard you before he saw you. 
Satoru's mate was a little less impressed with you. Back then, they didn't bother learning your tongue, speaking in hisses and snarls, unaware of your misery. Suguru's frown was glued on his face, but the naga never let you run away, always keeping a hand or a tail on you at all times. It was a rough first day; you didn't know they weren't interested in eating you until they tried to feed you. 
Things were much different back then Nowadays, they are a lot more considerate of yourself and your soft body. You think you've come to an understanding with these strange creatures. 
Suguru was the nicest out of the two. In that, you mean the least rough. Compared to his counterpart, he's a bit smaller, but that's not saying there's any real difference. If it comes down to it, you are more than certain he'd be able to kill you off as quickly as his mate. You thought he hated you, at first. Now, you think he has a hard time showing blatant affection. His touches typically come in the dead of night, when you're barely conscious. A clawed finger gently raking over your soft skin. Large hands sculpting your face. 
Satoru's eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. Glittering like blue sapphires. You had a feeling they weren't just for show. Time and time again he's proven that he can see better than Suguru could. He smiles a lot more, but you're starting to wonder if that expression translates across species. He can speak your tongue slightly better than Suguru could. It most likely has to do with his insistence on staying with you. The more time you spend with him, the more you have to say 'No' 'Don't touch there' 'Stop'. 
In the rare times you manage to escape their hold, you like watching them interact with each other. They often sunbathe for hours, lazing around hot rocks to soak in the heat. They like touching each other. Sometimes it's aggressive, like when Satoru chomps on Suguru's neck and you're suddenly much more aware of how careful he is with you. Other times it's: soft, unintentional, meaningless. Languid cuddling when you are finally able to braid Suguru's hair. 
At this point, you've surmised they won't eat you. At least, not for the moment. You don't exactly know what they think of you. Do they have the concept of pets in their worldview? Maybe that's the closest thing you can place yourself as, at least in their eyes. They must think you're helpless. To them, you have no claws, no fangs, no venom. They probably don't know you come from a species that's hunted others to extinction and currently burning down the planet. You must be the first time they've ever seen your kind, stripped away from your weapons, when you're the least dangerous. 
"You should be more scared of me, you know," you once whispered to Suguru in the dead of night.
He was dozing off, blearily keeping his eyes open to stare at your moving lips. There was a grunt behind you, and Satoru tightened his arms across your waist. Greedy for affection, even in his sleep.
"Humans are terrifying," you said, reaching out to touch, "top of the food chain."
Suguru had smiled at that. You found yourself smiling back.
"You're lucky I didn't have a gun on me. You probably don't even know what that is." It's dark humor to press two fingers into his forehead. Your way of coping maybe.
Or perhaps your actions prove that humans will always desire to be violent, no matter how perilous their fight may be.
"Bang." He leans into your touch, unafraid. Oblivious to the threat that you are.
You're guessing Satoru only let you go because of the food Suguru brought.
You're able to feel the ground again as he glides over to Suguru having just come back from a successful hunt. The carcass of the largest deer you've ever seen is slung across his back. The smell of blood already makes you nauseous. 
You think Suguru had been the most panicked when you refused to eat, clicking and cooing while he tried to force-feed you the bloody leg of a bear. Back then, your communication was even worse than it was now. You were smeared in crimson by the time he relented. Practically dripping in it. 
Now, Suguru knows you have different tastes than them. You're not a big fan of raw. The fish and the handful of berries are more than enough to sate you as you gather the items he's given in your hands. 
"Thank you," you say. You reach out, touching his face with warm fingers. He purrs into your touch. You smile. It's the least gratitude you can give him. After all, he's not asking for much. If they hadn't found you, you would have been dead long ago, or at least, significantly less weaker. It's the least you can do. 
For a moment, you delude yourself into thinking they were your pets. It'd certainly be easy too. They have little to no regard for personal boundaries, much like dogs. They're more animalistic than they are human. 
It's funny to think of these monsters as lovable pets.
"Thank you," Suguru repeats. You giggle. It's not like they actually understand you. It's simple mimicry. Like talking to a parrot. 
"Thank you!" Satoru chirps, never one to be left out. He pushes his mate out of the way, eager for your pets as well. Suguru hisses, but doesn't argue. You've learned they like to be scratched right there on the bottoms of their chins. 
Suguru's less obvious, but Satoru has no desire to pretend. He melts into you, practically slumping his weight into your weak hold. It's a little adorable actually. You give a little laugh. He seems even more pleased at that. 
They're fun to be around, but this can't last. You belong with other humans, far far away from this island. So far, you hadn't seen any boats in the horizon, but you hope one would come by soon. A plane would be even better. Close enough to give you hope. Maybe if you built a big enough fire, it'd reach someone eye. 
Hopefully, in just a few weeks, these creatures will be a very cherished memory. 
You frown when Satoru reaches over to grasp at your food, the meat specifically. You glare, moving away from his hold. He titters in clear disappointment. You hate seeing him sad but you already have so few food sources. It's best to conserve whatever you get. 
"No," you pointedly tell him, "It's mine. Mine." 
His frown deepens, and he opens his jaws to let his fangs pop out. 
"Mine," you repeat. 
He leans back, huffing. You laugh because you know his expression is more out of frustration than any actual anger. Again, animals. You pet his head in apology, before turning away. You'd have to start a tiny fire to start cooking. Raw fish is edible, but it's hardly desirable. 
A hand grabs yours, clawed, the grip is tight around your frail skin. When you look back, Satoru is staring at you. Eyes wide. Eager. 
"Mine," he says, but it's more like he's testing the word. Tasting it on his lips. 
You scoff, unamused. "That's my arm. Not yours." 
Satoru smiles. Sharp teeth. You suddenly remember he's a carnivore. 
He's slow when he draws you in, practically dragging you into his arms. You're used to his spontaneous hugs, tight and suffocating. You can't fight him off, so you typically wait until Suguru has enough of his behavior and drags him off you. 
"Mine," Satoru repeats. Alarm bells ring in your head but it's easy to brush them off. It's mimicry. They can't understand. It's like talking to a parrot. 
You feel the weight of the other naga at your back. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you against Satoru's chest. You stiffen when Suguru's fangs lightly graze up your neck. Never quite punctures, but is terrifyingly close.
"Mine," Suguru says into your skin. 
You laugh again, but it comes out less hesitant. More airy. Amid their hold, a sudden thought comes to you.
If you weren't at the top of the food chain anymore, then who was?
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wileys-russo · 6 months
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off limits (5) II a.putellas x león!reader
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part one part two part three part four
off limits (5) II a.putellas x león!reader
"-so ale just, left?" alba clarified and you nodded. "i mean i thought i knew my sister but it is not like her to run away from a problem." alba winced and you hummed, twirling around the straw in your empty glass.
"i'm sorry amiga. i really did not know that is what happened, i assumed you both had a fight or she just said something stupid. alexia can be so stubborn sometimes but she is not one to just give up." alba sighed, moving her arm around your shoulders.
"thats what i thought too, but she has made it clear now that it meant more to me than it did to her." you shrugged, sighing deeply. "look amiga i don't mean to dismiss your feelings at all and please if i am overstepping, tell me." alba started as you looked at her curiously but nodded for her to continue.
"the way she looked at you as you were leaving, the way i watched her breakdown in that bathroom was unlike i have seen her before. my sister is someone to wear her heart on her sleeve around those she trusts, she is incredibly passionate and loving but she is not one to show weakness to many." alba started, your head falling to her shoulder as you hummed for her to continue.
"ale has never brought a partner home, never been public about a relationship, never spoke very much about anyone she's seen, she is a very private person chica even with me. but i promise you that she cares about you, i know her well enough to see that. but i think she is afraid of how much, so when something threatened that she thought it would be easier to pretend not to care, to protect herself and to protect you." alba continued as you frowned a little at her words.
"how is leaving me when i needed her, protecting me?" you argued, pulling your head back up and turning your body. "you and mapi have always been very very close, like alexia and i si?" you nodded in agreeance.
"we were, but i cannot look at her the same way since everything happened. i blame both of them for how things turned out, in different ways." you admitted, alba nodding that she understood.
"well if alexia did not like a partner i had, i would listen to her about why. because i know she cares about me and she wants me to be happy, so if i was happy and she still did not like my partner, i would want to know why." alba started, holding up a hand as you opened your mouth to interrupt.
"which i know is not the same situation and not to defend alexia because i could slap her for how she has handled this mi amiga. but maybe she did not want to be the cause of any issues with you and mapi, because she knows how special that bond is with your hermana'." alba suggested as you sighed deeply, taking a moment to collect your thoughts.
"then why would she not tell me that so we could have talked about it and worked through it? she just left alba, she left me like i was nothing and nobody to her. and that hurt! she does not understand how much that hurt." you whispered, facade breaking for a moment as you angrily wiped away a loose tear.
"okay hey hey carino we don't have to talk about it anymore. i'm sorry if i overstepped." alba pulled you into a tight hug as you sighed deeply into her shoulder.
"but you know...i would have loved to have you as my sister if you and ale got married." "alba!" "sorry! just trying to lighten the mood amiga."
"are you coming to malta next week then?" alba pulled away, finishing the last mouthful of her drink and nodding for the two of you to leave.
with international break coming and spain not having any fixtures it meant you all had a few days off, so a few of the barcelona girls and their partners had organised to go to malta as a getaway from everything.
"no." you shook your head firmly, having been invited but you knew through the team that alexia was also going. "wrong. you are coming! and you can hang out with me." alba grinned, pinching your cheek as the two of you walked toward her car.
"why are you going? do you have a secret girlfriend on the team you are not telling me about?" you teased her, not missing the way her face changed for just a fleeting moment. "you do! tell me." you demanded, smacking her shoulder.
"i don't, i promise ale invited me and that's it. but there is something you should probably know." alba started, unlocking her car as the two of you slid inside and you gestured eagerly for her to continue. "so when mapi first joined barca and she and alexia started getting very close-" alba started, car engine roaring to life.
"-me and your sister..." alba trailed off giving you a look as your jaw dropped. "you slept with maria?!" you gasped, albas eyes widening.
"mierda no! we went on a few dates, kissed a few times then decided we were better off as friends and that was that, nothing else ever happened." alba dismissed quickly, pulling out of the parking lot as you shook your head in disbelief.
"does alexia know?" "who do you think encouraged it?"
"oh i wish you had not told me that albs. that is so weird!" you groaned, struggling to wrap your head around it. "why is it weird! its not like anything happened, and her and ingrid are the most well suited couple to each other i have ever seen, soul mates." alba shook her head, speeding down the freeway.
"because she's my sister and you're-well you!" you huffed, cringing at the thought. "hey! there is a line of hot women waiting to get a chance with alba putellas thank you." the older girl hit you with her free hand.
"you know chica in another universe you and i..." she trailed off at a red light sending you a wink as you grimaced in mock disgust.
"hey i know you have a thing for putellas women, why not the younger better looking model amiga?" she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively with a toothy grin as you shoved her, both of you knowing it was all light hearted.
if anything you viewed alba as a sister of sorts in the same way you did ingrid, she was always around long before you and alexia got together and given you were barely a year apart in age you'd always been close.
"well i didn't think you had something for the león women alba but here we are." "i am swearing you to secrecy with that nobody else knows about it, you take it to the grave or i put you in an early one!"
~
alexia glanced up with a frown at the insistent buzzing from the security box by her door. quickly standing to make her way over there she rolled her eyes seeing her sister waiting downstairs on the small camera screen, buzzing her apartment number again and again.
she shouldn't have been surprised given that she knew alba had spent the afternoon with you, but still she was slightly taken aback by the way the younger girl forcefully shouldered past her the moment alexia opened the front door to let her in.
"so she told you."
"of course she told me alexia! you-" alba struggled to get her words out as her older sister sat back down on the sofa, nala curling up into her side. "explain, now." was all the girl could get out, pointing at her firmly.
"explain what?" "why you left her alexia." "alba-" "don't alba me. first you hide the relationship from me, then you are dishonest about why you broke up and then accuse me of trying to flirt with her at lunch! explain alexia."
the older putellas sighed, gently moving nala off of her as the small ball of fur curled up in her own bed on the floor, alexia running her hands down her face as she leant forward on her knees and alba took a seat.
"i don't know why. in the moment-in the moment i just heard the way mapi was speaking, the anger and the betrayal in her voice. selfishly my first thought was the team, if mapi was angry at both of us it would affect our overall chemistry on the pitch." alexia started, alba scoffing quietly at her words but remaining otherwise silent.
"so then i panicked and i just....i shut down. i didn't know how to process what i was feeling so i didn't know how to comfort her through what she was feeling. i knew i should have just held her, or hugged her but i was terrified that if i did then mapi would never speak to either of us again, and i couldn't be the cause of that." alexia continued, closing her eyes as guilt again flooded her body in waves.
"then that next morning all i wanted to do was go and see her, to apologise and check on her and try to talk. but i couldn't get the image out of my head of mapi screaming in her face, i have seen them fight before but never ever like that. or the way her voice broke as she begged me not to leave alba. she begged me and i did not even turn around!" alexia whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose and hanging her head in her hands.
"mapi did not deserve a best friend who lied to her, so i iced her out. and she did not deserve a girlfriend who does not stand up for her, does not protect her, who walked away like a coward and did not own up to her mistakes." alexia finished, glancing to look at her younger sister whose features were curled into a frown, though alexia was unable to decipher what she was thinking.
"so you just...left it. did not apologise, did not try to explain yourself. do you know how much she is hurting ale? how confused she is? she thinks you do not care for her, and that you never did." alba spoke quietly and firmly, though not unkindly seeing how much the older girl was clearly struggling.
"of course i care about her!" "well how is she to know that hermana? have you told her?" "no." "exactly. then imagine how much more confused she is when suddenly you try to play hero at the club the other night as if you cared for her after icing her out, after leaving her without an explanation, ignoring what happened and not making any attempts to fix it. you do not get to treat her like that alexia and then be confused as to why she did not allow you to take her home and be her saviour, that is cruel."
"i know." alexia muttered, having spent the time since doing nothing but reflecting on all the things she wished she'd done differently, and plaguing herself deeper and deeper into a self inflicted pity party that the cage she was in was one of her own creation.
"good. because she is coming to malta and you are going to fix things before we go!" alba announced, alexias head shooting up and her eyebrows furrowing. "since when?" alexia questioned, having checked in multiple times with her team mates and friends about the guest list for this little getaway.
"since i told her i would be kicking her door in and kidnapping her if she was not ready when i pick her up to go to the airport." "mierda alba! you had no right to get involved!" "you have no right to be upset if she chooses to go away with her team and her friends, and you are going too. so you have six days to start fixing things with her if you do not want to lose her for good hermana."
~
your plan to avoid alexia was going well, as cruel as it sounded her knee had been giving her some trouble which meant she wasn't training with the group, rather focusing on media duties, physio visits and individual sessions.
there was only one more game until international break and alexia already knew she was not going to be on the roster. she had done her best to make peace with it, as much as it terrified her anytime something felt a little off.
so you continued to avoid any and all interaction with the captain, and in turn you'd also been avoiding your sister, still struggling with how to forgive her after the domino effect of her actions.
but with ingrid in her ear about giving you the space you clearly needed she was doing her best to try and respect that, but it killed her to shoot you a smile across the locker room and see you have to force one back before you'd hurry away.
back when things were normal you'd eat at her house at least twice a week, come over when you were bored, spend weekends curled up on her sofa with bagheera. it used to annoy her sometimes the way you would just show up, sometimes even letting yourself in and eating the food from her fridge like you lived there.
she'd scold you and scowl at you asking if you had suddenly moved in, and you'd simply grin at her like annoying younger siblings do, wandering off to watch a movie on her tv which was bigger than yours, flicking through her extensive novel collection or stealing clothes from her closet when she wasn't looking.
they were right when they say you don't know what you miss until its gone, and mapi would sometimes find herself staring at her front door wishing you would barge in uninvited again.
when you would come to her for advice or just to rant angrily about something that had riled you up that day, even something as simple as your neighbors taking your parking spot meaning you had to park a three minute walk away from your building.
despite your sisterly arguments the two of you had always been close, always told one another everything, especially as you grew up and matured and followed in her footsteps.
some would have been frustrated at their younger sister seemingly copying their every move, but mapi could not bring herself to feel anything but pride when she watched you play and progress through the years, adoring the thought that she had played a heavy hand in your love of football.
but the one thing you'd kept from her, was the one thing that had ruined everything, and mapi truly had no one to blame but herself. she wanted her baby sister back, but as ingrid had explained she needed to let you come to her now, and that the tighter she held on the more you would just pull away.
things shifted one afternoon when you were returning from a meeting with jonatan after your last training session for the week, assuming most of the team and staff had left for the day given it was nearing the early evening.
you were exhausted both physically and mentally, everything had begun to take a toll on you and you were noticing it finally start to affect your football, something you'd tried hard as you could to avoid happening since all of this started in the first place.
but it appeared you weren't the only one who was feeling the effects of everything. your eyes flickered to the right as you passed one of the physios offices, noticing a body sat on the benches which of course you recognized right away.
you paused for just a fleeting moment, and all it took was that milisecond for her eyes to meet yours, red and puffy a clear indicator she'd been crying. uncomfortable with the sudden invasive vulnerability you'd hurried away, though felt something pulling you back as you stopped after a few steps.
your body fell into turmoil and you froze on the spot, head sent into a dizzying back and forth argument about how you should continue. eventually the little voice in the back of your head won out, and ignoring the thoughts creeping in about how bad of an idea this was.
"hola capi." you greeted her quietly, knocking on the door gently as again she looked up, even more startled than before that you'd returned and directly addressed her. "hola." she forced a small smile back as you lingered in the doorway.
"estás bien?" you checked in with a slight raise of your eyebrow, nodding to the ice pack strapped to her knee. "fine, gracias." she spoke through tight lips with a curt nod of your head, taken aback by how this was the most the two of you had spoke in days.
"no you're not alexia." you remanded softly, moving into the room and pulling yourself up to sit on the bench opposite her. a thick silence brewed between the pair of you, the tension almost suffocating as you sat together unmoving.
"i have to go get some scans on my knee tomorrow, maybe an mri. they are worried something has potentially torn, we are hoping for the best and it is just a minor setback and needs some rest, but preparing for the worst just in case." alexia confessed, eyes dropping back down to the floor as you winced at her words.
"you do not need to say anything please, i just needed to tell someone." alexia was quick to clarify before you could speak, unsure what you would have even said as you nodded wordlessly respecting her wishes, the thick silence again growing between the two of you as you contemplated how to leave after her confession.
"for two minutes, can you please pretend you do not hate me?" alexia finally broke, glancing up at you through hooded eyes, hazel orbs shining even more prominently through the thin sheen of tears she'd swallowed back.
"i don't hate you alexia." you forced out after a moment. "i would not blame you. i have been selfish, a coward, treated you worse than you would ever deserve. i would not blame you for hating me, i would hate me." alexia spoke up, glancing toward you as your brows furrowed and you stared at your hands in your lap, thinking of your next words carefully.
"alexia of course i do not hate you. I miss nothing more than just laying with you in silence with just you being there, being with me.” you confessed, voice barely above a whisper as alexia's knuckles turned white from how hard she gripped the edge of the bench she was sat on.
"you miss me?" was all the catalan could manage out, and you felt her eyes bore into you from across the room. "what? of course i miss you alexia. i never even got a chance to speak to you about any of it we just...broke up and i never even got a say in that, it just happened." you managed to get out, emotions starting to bubble over as the control you had over them started to slip away.
"and now all of a sudden I have thousands of pictures of you in my phone that I cannot bring myself to delete, months worth of memories shared with you that i cannot shake from my head. my finger hovers over your contact sometimes just wanting to hear your voice and i think constantly about what you're doing. wondering if you miss me, if you regret what happened and how different things might be if you didn't leave." the control slipped away completely as you started to get off your chest the insecurities that had eaten away at you for weeks now.
"if you called i would have picked up." alexia forced out, eyes locking with yours and her stomach churning at the obvious pain leaking from them as you spoke.
"would you? because the worst part about all of this is that i can't stop overthinking about why you left me and why you never even explained yourself or even tried to apologised. so of course I’m not going to call you and tell you I still love you and I miss-"
"you still love me?" alexia's eyes widened as yours squeezed shut, heart clenching. "i do. but i know now that you don't because if you loved me you wouldn’t have left me like that. you wouldn’t have waited weeks to finally grow a spine and apologise which you still haven't done! you wouldn’t have made up with my sister before making any sort of effort with me knowing that it’s partly her fault we even broke up in the first place!" your temper flared now, jumping down from the bench with your fists balled by your side.
"mi amor please i can't even begin to-" she regretted the word the moment it left her mouth, watching your face fall and your heart shatter all over again causing her stomach to heave.
"don't call me that. please!" your voice cracked and you paused, collecting yourself as alexia fell silent again, face burning red at her mistake.
"the only thing i hate alexia is that I can’t hate you. I can’t get you out of my mind and I can’t escape you even when i'm alone in a room miles away from you. you’re always there with me in the back of my head, or there’s a photo of you on my fridge or on the wall, or there’s a magnet or a keyring or some sort of trinket you bought me that I cannot find the motivation to get rid of but every time I look at them and think of you it just breaks me all over again!" your fist thumped down on the padded material of the medical bench in frustration.
"i am so so sorry, i've wanted to say it but i do not know how to say how sorry i am, for how much i've hurt you and how unfair it was for me to leave you." alexia forced out, arms shaking lightly from the strength in which she squeezed the bench in her hands, a miracle it hadn't broken at her desperate grip.
at her hurried apology a suffocating silence brewed once more, wrapping its hands around your throat as the anger suddenly melted from your body and you could have crumpled to the floor. instead you pulled yourself to once again sit on the medical bench across from your ex lover.
"i never thought that you were capable of hurting me like this alexia. not the girl who held me for days as i sobbed when i withdrew from the national team and would no longer play for my country because of him. who wrote me dozens of love letters and organised for flowers to arrive at my door every week she was away on international duty." you paused for a second to swallow the lump which was building up in your throat as you forced back the hot tears which threatened to fall at any second.
it was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop.
"the girl who I thought was just as much in love with me as I am with her." you broke at that sentence, unable to hold back the dry sob which ripped from your throat, your eyes falling to the floor unable to hold hers anymore.
"the same girl who left me when I needed her. who wouldn’t even hug me or look me in the eyes as I sobbed and begged like an idiota for her to change her mind." your chest heaved with silent cries as you struggled to catch your breath.
"no, alexia don't!" you tried to push her away, not having heard her even get up off the chair as she slotted between your legs and gently cradled your face in her hands.
"please if i could go back and undo it i would but i cannot and i don't know how to apologize enough for that, i cannot ever say i am sorry and sorry will never ever be enough. but i am still that same girl hermosa." you flinched at the term of enderament but alexia had already gone too far to stop.
"i know to have the seat heater on when i pick you up for an early training, i know to always have a spare jacket in my car because you always forget one, i know to order extra food when you say you are not hungry because i know you are. i am still that same girl and i am still so in love with you. but flowers and words will never be enough to fix this, how can i fix this mi amor? please!" the older girl begged, pressing her forehead to yours as you gave up trying to push her away, body wracking with sobs as hot tears carved their way down her own rosy cheeks.
"i am so tired alexia. i am so tired of hurting and wondering and overthinking. i am so tired of walking on eggshells and being angry and upset, it is so draining and i am exhausted." you whispered out, throat raw and aching as your chest heaved and you tried desperately to steady your breathing.
"but i don't know how to fix this ale. i don't know how to go back and pretend like it never happened because it did. i cannot risk hurting myself all over again if i let you back in, i am so sorry ale but i do not trust you anymore, not with my heart or with me." your own hands gently clasped her cheeks, using your thumbs to wipe away the tears which pooled in the corner of her eyes.
once you had you moved to grab her wrists, gently wrenching her hands from your face as they hung limply by her sides, her body sagging in defeat at your words and you ignored the way your mind was screaming at you to take them back and to reach out to comfort her.
"i am exhausted of avoiding you and being angry at you, it is killing me and clearly you have other things you need to be focusing yourself on." you forced out, nodding to her knee as she rested her body against the bench.
"we will never be as we were alexia, and i think we both need some time to make peace with that." you started, knowing that your next words were going to deliver a fatal and final blow.
"my contract is up this year with barca ale, and i will not be renewing it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
part six
um....i'm sorry? this is not the end though besties do not fret, things aren’t always as they seem, or maybe they are who knows (I do since I’ve half written the next chapter already) xx
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lysil7777 · 4 months
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Yan! Dom! Fem! Reader x Sub! Boy
"P-please just.. just leave me alone!" James whimpered, tears welling up in his brown eyes, cheeks and ears flushing
"Aww what's wrong Jamie? Are you gonna cry? Did I hurt your feelings? Do you need your Mommy? You lean in to bite his ear and then whisper "I could be your mommy~"
Jamie hated himself for being unable to stop the moan that came out when you nipped at his ear and hated himself even more for letting you bully and harass him everyday.
When Jamie started college he swore things would be different from high school, he'd be more social, more motivated, and less shy. But 3 months later and the only person he talked to on a daily basis was you.
The first time you two met was in class, he'd braved up the courage to ask you for a pencil, he didn't really need one but he was trying to get out of his comfort zone.
You obliged but only after teasing him a bit asking what he'd give you in return, he got all embarrassed not knowing how to properly return your banter, and offered to pay you which you found very amusing. After a few more interactions you started to grow very fond of the nerd who sat behind you in Calc and before you knew it he was always on your mind.
The way he'd get embarrassed and look away from you when he didn't know what to say, the nervous habits he had when he was out by himself, how kind he was without anyone noticing, he was your adorable little specimen, for you only. And of course the best part was how naughty he could be, oh he was so innocent at the same time tho. You'd lost count of the number of times you'd watched him through his window, jerking it to soft domme porn, pet play, degradation, and dumbification, he was a pervy little nerd but the shame he felt afterward made you want to climb through his window and show him how much more depraved you were.
"What are you talking about y/n, I'm older than you that doesn't even make sense" he rambled looking anywhere but your eyes that were boring into his skull. God why did you have to be so close, why did you have to smell so good and be so pretty and-
His thoughts were cut off when you grabbed his chin and made him look at you directly
"I just think you're the kind of guy who needs direction, someone to help make those difficult decisions a sweet pet like you can't really decide for themselves, and why should you, that pretty little head of yours shouldn't have to worry about a single thing" you cooed squishing his cheeks together and making his lips push out
"I'm eighteen y/n, I can make my own decisions" Jamie argued or tried to through squished lips
At 5'3" you stood an entire nine inches under Jamie, but that didn't make him feel any less small in your presence
Letting go of his face you took a step back pretending to think for a moment "Alright then, I'll let you choose. Give me your number or get wedgied."
Jamie stood there dumb for a second, pants growing tighter and his skin warmer
"W-what?" He laughed nervously
Pulling his face closer to yours by the collar of his shirt you repeated your earlier statement to him in a slow demeaning manner, as if he was brain dead
"Give me your number or you get boo boo, oh no!" Your lips turned down in faux sadness
Jamie wasn't sure what to make of the situation, you usually weren't this physical with him, he was a little scared but mostly turned on. He didn't want to admit it but he had the teeniest tiniest crush on you and he blamed the stupid porn he'd been watching but he only looked into it because of you!
"I-I don't.." he paused
On one hand, he wanted to give you his number but on the other hand he'd never thought getting wedgied sounded so appealing
"You don't hmm~? Well, that just won't do. What happened to my big tough guy? Who was so strong and independent? Do you know darling? Ah, of course you don't. You're just as clueless as a little puppy dog and as cute as one too <3"
The new nickname shocked Jamie and caused him to audibly gasp, his hard-on fully visible now
"You can't j-just-aghhh"
You gripped him by his hair to cut him off
"Oh is puppy trying to give the orders now? What a silly little mutt you are, you really don't know how this works do you? The tent in your pants suggests otherwise but here you are telling me what I can and can't do with my property"
"I-I'm not yours y/n! A-and I'm not a pervert!!"
That first statement made your blood boil and you didn't even realize that you'd pushed Jamie down to his knees
"A good dog doesn't speak, a good dog gets treats and rewards but you're not being a good dog, Jamie. I know your tiny brain might not have comprehended it yet but you are mine, you're only mine. Who else is gonna talk to such a pervert hm? You were made for me, nobody else should ever see you like this, in fact, nobody ever sees you the way I do."
Before he could get a word out you pinned him to his position by placing your shoe on his clothed dick and reached over him to grab his boxers. Putting pressure on both simultaneously had him squirming and letting out the most sinful moans that made you wanna take him right then and there.
"Y-nnnnnnn" he whined, grinding up to help release some of the tension but each movement made the fabric between his ass more uncomfortable
"Shhh puppy, this is the punishment you've been given, I wouldn't be a very good owner if I didn't discipline my pet, you just gotta learn how to be good for me mkay? Don't you wanna learn how to be good and get rewards and pets and walkies~?"
All the new sensations made Jamie's head spin, his body felt like it was burning up from the inside out, his head was fuzzy, his dick was so much more sensitive than it had ever been while he was touching it and he couldn't place why the slight uncomfortableness of the wedgie made his parts throb even more, the whole situation was so intense poor boy couldn't fully wrap his doggy brain around it.
"I-I'm so close y/nnn, oh godd please, give me more! 'M so closeee" he panted not caring how pathetic he looked
"Already? Such a greedy pup for me hehe~ Have you learned your lesson, Jamie? Do you even deserve to cum against the bottom of my shoe?" You sang in a taunting manner pressing down even harder with your shoe
"I-, aghhhhh ohh yess fuck, YES! I'm yours y/n only yours! Promise! I'll-uggghh I'll be-hah hah- good! Just for you!"
"Atta boy! That wasn't so hard was it pup?" Finally letting go of his underwear you continued to let Jamie grind against your foot until he got to the edge
"M- boutta...cum!!" At this point, Jamie had grabbed your leg, chin resting on your thick thigh, eyes teary and glazed over staring up at you as if you were a goddess
Softly cupping his face you lifted it off your leg and removed any contact from his dick causing him to let out strings of breathy and high-pitched whines
You sat down and pulled him into your lap, gently wiping away the fresh fallen tears off his face
"W-*hiccup*why y/n, was so close...so close"
His protest died down with a stern look from you
"You'll be alright puppy, I promise. I'm gonna take care of you from now on, you are mine after all"
The rest of the evening was spent holding your new puppy, rubbing his tummy and flustering him with all the soft attention you gave him
He couldn't believe he got so lucky as to experience you, and as long as he considers being owned and expected to heed your everyword, he was lucky!
End <3
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luveline · 9 months
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𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
spencer comforts you with facts and affection alike when you worry you aren't as pretty as the girls on his team. requested here. fem!reader, 1.6k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Photographs can't accurately capture how beautiful Emily Prentiss is. JJ and Penelope are both gorgeous too, but it's Emily who startles you. Her hair a cool black colour and curled around her demure face, the line of her nose and her deep, dark eyes. Her lips, picture perfect and painted a soft pink.
The prettier you find her, the more your heart sinks. 
Spencer squeezes your shoulder. It's bold for him to do so in front of his friends (his family, really), he can barely show you affection in the grocery store without turning rosy. You preen at the touch, but the feeling of insecurity remains like an irksome gnat zipping around your head. 
"We didn't think we'd ever get to meet you!" Derek is saying, a casual arm thrown around Penelope's shoulders, a drink in hand. 
Rossi couldn't attend and JJ felt too pregnant, bringing your party to a solid six. It still feels like a lot of people to meet at once. 
You hold the flute of your glass in a nervous hand, fingers stickied by condensation. You have a feeling that you're in trouble, all these profilers assessing your behaviour, nowhere to hide. "No, I'm," —you raise your voice to hide the funny tremor that's taken hold— "so happy to meet you all, I promise I've been trying!" 
"Whenever she gets time off, we're on a case," Spencer says. 
Emily smiles widely at your statement. It's such an open, friendly look, it floors you. You look down at your drink and blink. 
You don't know it, but the team exchanges glances at your behaviour. 
"So, do you enjoy your work?" Emily asks. "Or hate it, like us?"
Hotch laughs and moves his pint glass onto a coaster. "I think it's safe to say that none of us hate our jobs." 
"I wouldn't blame you if you did. I can't imagine how hard it is, how hard you all work," you say. Spencer's hand drifts down your back. "But you have each other."
Emily does this thing with her eyes and if you weren't in a happy relationship, you'd probably be a puddle at her feet. "Too much of each other," she says jokingly.
She's gorgeous, and Spencer sees her every single day? You're nothing compared to her. Not smart, not strong, and nowhere near as pretty. You could never measure up. 
"Would you, um, excuse me?" you ask, moving your purse from your lap and onto the table. 
"You okay?" Spencer asks, looking up as you stand. 
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just gonna use the bathroom," you say quietly. You aren't, but if you were, you wouldn't really want to broadcast that anyhow. 
You try not to wobble on the way to the bathroom. The weight of five pairs of eyes follows you as you leave, four of which are trained in the art of spotting lies. Everything isn't okay, and they know that, and by extension —all the effort you made tonight? Getting your hair done, your nicest clothes, your makeup and your perfume? It might as well be a huge blinking neon sign that says you're trying really hard, and it doesn't make a lick of difference. 
You sidle into a stall, pulling the lid of the toilet down with a tissue and sitting on it heavily. Elbows on your knees, you hunch your back and hide your face in your hands, breathing in the smell of bleach through quick breaths. Water drips somewhere near the sinks, the cacophony of the restaurant hushed. 
You've never felt naturally pretty. With Spencer, it hasn't ever mattered. He's never given any indication that he cares. But… 
"Loser," you mutter to yourself. 
"Hey, Y/N?" Spencer asks, his voice bouncing off of the tile. 
You freeze. "Two seconds!" 
"You're not really using the bathroom," he says incredulously. 
"Says who?"
Spencer laughs, his tone wry, "I know you really well, you realise? Like, better than I know anyone else on the planet."
"Then you know I'm having an authentic pee and need my privacy." 
"Come on out." 
The ringing of the lock slotting free is like an announcement of your embarrassment. Spencer's standing a half a foot from the doorway, keeping his distance from the no man's land that is the ladies room. You're going to use it to your advantage, only he holds out his hand expectantly. When you take it, he pulls you out of the bathroom and firmly into the restaurant hallway. 
You can't escape his concern, nor his hands as they cup your face unexpectedly. 
They feel as nice as they look, deft fingers pressed to your skin like you're one of his puzzles to decipher. 
"What upset you?" he asks. 
"Nothing your friends did, I promise." 
"But something." He smooths a hand down to your shoulders. He's not quite frenetic but certainly close to it, searching for a problem he won't find on the surface. "You're insecure about something," he deduces. 
You cringe bodily. "I'm not." 
"What is it? Is it your necklace? It really is nice, the colour goes with your skin. It's understated." 
"It's not my necklace, Spence." 
"Then what is it?" 
"I just…" You pull his hands from your neck and collar to hold them, looking up into his melty brown eyes wishing he weren't so hard to say no to. "Feel like you could do better." 
He frowns. It's a pout, and endearing, but not what you want to see. 
"I love being with you, I just think, you know, you're so handsome, and you have all these pretty friends," you say.  
"You think you're not pretty?" he asks. He sounds gutted, if a little confused. 
"Not like her." Your voice quivers. 
The first time you got upset in front of Spencer, he wasn't sure what to do. He ended up putting an arm around your shoulder, your brand new boyfriend out of his depth. You've both had some practice at comforting one another now, and any hesitance Spencer held is gone. He wraps his arms around you like he's afraid you'll fall over, the crease of his stressed brow smushing against the side of your face. 
"Don't think that. Why would you think that?" he asks quietly. 
"I know I'm not pretty like some girls," you say, surprised by the ferocity of his reaction. 
"You don't know that, because it's not true. You're beautiful." He squeezes your side between his fingers, something contemplative about the way his thumb curls upward. "Do you know how many books I've read?" 
"Thousands." 
He hums. A hand grasps at the back of your neck. "Thousands of books. I know so much, especially about the human body. I know that falling in love can make some people feel the same effects as cocaine. Staring into their eyes can synchronise your heartbeats." He encourages your head back. "Butterflies are adrenaline and when I look at you I can't get them to stop, even if I know it's chemical." Spencer's eyes are lit with something you don't often see directed at you, a furious conviction. "What we think we know isn't always fact, so if you think you're not pretty…" He nods his head gently to the left. "There's only really one thing left to do." 
Your heart feels like it's being juiced. "What's that?" you ask. 
He grabs your hand and puts it on his chest. Fingertips to his breastbone, he holds it flat. Sure enough, even through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, you can feel the rapid capering of his pulse. 
"It's like that pretty much any time I look at you." 
"Spence…" 
"I know it's bad," he says.
"Are you messing with me?"
"Yeah, I did a lap before I came to find you– No!" He laughs, giving you an admonishing look. "Why would I mess with you? How could I?" 
"I don't know." 
He dips in to kiss your frown. "You're so pretty," he whispers. "So, so pretty. You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, no matter what you think." 
You don't believe that you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen, but you believe that he believes it. He has no reason to lie to you, nothing to gain. He could've said, Hey, you're pretty, and left it at that. He could've been angry with you for leaving the table for something some people would say was superficial. But Spencer's your sweetheart. 
"Do you want to go home, angel?" he asks, looking at you worriedly. 
"No." You don't even have to think about it —you've done enough thinking. "I don't want to go home. Sorry, Spencer. I feel better." And you'll stay out all night if he's going to call you angel again. 
"Well, let me know if you need me to tell you again." 
The chances of you surviving such an ardent speech a second time are low. "I won't be doing that." 
Spencer shrugs. "You'll let me know, even if you don't think so. You have a tell when you're upset." 
You spend the rest of the night making up for your disruption (which Spencer's friends immediately dismiss without questioning), shepherding the crisper curly fries on to Spencer's plate because he likes them that way, and begging him to tell you what your tell is with subtle pleading glances and a hand on his knee. Nothing inappropriate, but affectionate nonetheless. 
He doesn't tell you no matter how much you ask, and maybe it's the drinks or the way the scone light kisses his cheeks in a warm buttery light, you can't find it in you to be mad. 
"Keep your secrets," you say, chin tilted upward. You're failing to glare at him, too much love in your eyes for it to be believable. 
"You're beautiful," he says back, mirroring your expression playfully, before leaning down for a chaste kiss. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!! if you did, please consider reblogging, it makes a big difference to me<3 have a good day!
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spirantization · 5 months
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"Wild Blue Yonder" dealt with some of the emotional fallout of the Flux, so I want to rewind a bit and look at what that means for the Doctor.
I know that the Timeless Child and the Flux are contentious topics. I'm not here to argue either way. But now those storylines have decisively not been retconned, and with both of these fresh in my memory, I feel the need to offer some context for anyone who may not have seen it, and to recontextualize it for myself and anyone who has.
NotDonna: You don't know where you're from. The Doctor: How do you know that? How does anyone know? How does Donna know?
In "The Timeless Children", we find out that the Doctor was discovered as a child alone under a wormhole, and adopted by a woman named Tecteun. There was an accident where the Doctor fell from a cliff and regenerated, and subsequently Tecteun performed "experiments" on them to try to understand regeneration. The show minces words about this but she killed a child a whole bunch of times is what happened. Her experiments created the Time Lords and allow them to engineer their regeneration properties. The Doctor has no memory of any of this, and only finds out via the Master and information stored in the Time Lord Matrix.
The Doctor, predictably, doesn't tell anyone about this revelation. She makes a speech to the Master about how this makes her more, we get a single shot of her looking a bit tired in the TARDIS, then she immediately gets thrown in prison.
Ultimately, the Doctor doesn't know where they're from or who their parents are. And the very fact that they're not from Gallifrey is information that no one in the universe should have. Everyone who knew is now dead.
NotDonna: I saw it in your head. The Flux. The Doctor: It destroyed half the universe because of me. We stand here now, on the edge of creation, a creation which I devastated, so yes I keep running, of course I do! How am I supposed to look back on that? NotDonna: It wasn't your fault! The Doctor: I know!
A fun fact about the Flux is that the Doctor did not cause it. So why does he blame himself? Because the person who caused the Flux was Tecteun.
The reason why Tecteun wanted to destroy the universe is because the Doctor interfered with things too much. Too much morality. Too inspirational to people. She calls them a virus. So her solution to the problem of the Doctor is to destroy the universe, with the Doctor inside, and take her ship to a different universe to start fresh. She also was the one to steal all the Doctor's memories of previous lives in the first place. She's dismissive and patronizing and clearly does not care about the Doctor on an emotional level at all. Tecteun is a piece of work, and the implications of her actions and how they've shaped the Doctor have the potential to go deep.
Thirteen doesn't get too much of a chance to react to any of this, because there is plot going on. And shortly after they reunite, Tecteun gets killed by a different villain. So there was no emotional closure in the moment, and there's now no possibility for the Doctor to make sense of her actions. The Doctor does not tell any of her friends about any of these events. She keeps promising to tell Yaz but does not.
"Wild Blue Yonder" is the first time we, as the audience, hear the Doctor discuss the Flux. And their perception of events is skewed at best. The Flux wasn't caused because the Doctor made a mistake and a lot of people were killed, which is what you can argue for many other situations. The Flux and the devastation of the universe was caused by their mother, who promptly turned around and told them it was their fault for being such an interfering nuisance. We know that the Doctor is often an unreliable narrator, but this is beyond that. These are the words of an abused child who has internalized the narrative that the abuse was their fault.
So the Doctor being able to talk about this with Donna, who has seen what happened, who knows him, and tells him that it's not his fault — it means so much to him. He wants it to be her so badly. And then NotDonna laughs in his face. You can see the devastation. He thinks for one moment that he can finally talk about this with his best friend, and it's snatched away from him. He gives himself a moment to break down in the corridor, and then you can see the walls rebuilding as he suppresses it all again.
At the very end of the episode, back in the TARDIS, he's trying very very hard to be nonchalant. I'm curious. The NotDonna could remember all these things that happened to me while we were apart. Can you? Just wondering. Things happened, but I'll be fine. In a million years. It's not a joke.
He wants so badly to be able to talk about this. You can see it in all the lines of his body language. He's keeping himself together but is prepared to fall apart in an instant. He doesn't want to actually tell anyone, but if Donna just magically knew already, and could tell him it wasn't his fault — well, that would make the world of difference. But she doesn't know, and he can't bring himself to tell her. And so the cycle continues.
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writeyouin · 3 months
Text
Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 2
Chapter 2 - I Don't Need You
A/N – Since the first chapter got comments and actual reblogs, surprise, surprise, I was motivated to continue. See, Tumblr? This is how it works. I respond to instant validation.
Warnings – None.
Rating – T
MALE VERSION HERE
NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE
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You looked around the dusty hallway that comprised the main entrance to Lucifer’s manor. Yikes, Charlie was right; he really did need a cleaner. You doubted that was her main motivation for placing you in her father’s care but looking at the layers of thick dust and brimstone coating downstairs, you could see it hadn’t been used in a long time.
Lucifer watched you sceptically. Ideally, he would have liked to leave you to find your own way around, but he didn’t want to be accused of not trying by Charlie, should you call her and state that Lucifer was straight up ignoring you.
With that in mind, he bade you to follow him with a wave of his arm and gave you a half-arsed tour of each room, during which he would energetically state its name, and occasionally pepper in a fact if he felt like it and then hurry along.
“Parlor one, dining room, parlour two, library, parlour the… you know what, we have a lot of those, if you see a room with chairs and a fireplace, assume it’s a parlour. Moving on, bathroom, closet, like the parlour situation, there are lots of bathrooms and closets. Kitchen, which is always stocked by the way, so I don’t have to shop,” He muttered a sentence about the Hell of going out there, and then he was back to his bubbly self, rushing you through the rest of the tour, “Games room, spa, my room – don’t go in there – and here, among the unnecessary number of bedrooms, is your room.”
Although every room in the manor was lavish by Hell’s standards, Lucifer had sneakily pre-worked a bit of his magic to make yours somewhat undesirable. It was still large and had all the fixings, but now, it was dirty, damp, and there would always be an underlying scent of slightly rotten milk, that was just noticeable to annoy anyone, yet not something so offensive that he could be blamed for causing it.
The now slightly squalid room wasn’t Lucifer’s way of being petty and cruel; it was just that he wanted you to leave, and that would only happen if you had a reason to. You should go back to the Hotel where you belonged; better yet, you should just head to a different part of Hell where neither he nor his daughter would have to look at your disgustingly human face… A face that, though nothing like Lilith’s, reminded Lucifer of his wife since there was nobody else even remotely like her except for their daughter and now, unfortunately, you.
The simple fact of the matter was that Lucifer was just waiting for you to start demanding things of him, or Charlie. It would likely start with something small, like changing rooms, then if he gave you an inch, you would take a mile, and soon you would demand he use his Angelic Powers to serve you in seemingly impossible ways.
One way or another, the room was a test. You would either see it and leave in search of greener pastures or a better deal elsewhere, leeching off whoever would give you the time of day, or you would stay and start giving orders; either way, Lucifer would be able to return to his daughter with proof that sinners were the problem, not him.
You stepped into the room, accidentally kicking up a cloud of dust that made you sneeze.
After a minute, you turned to Lucifer, “Thank you for the room. It’s lovely.”
Lucifer held back a grimace as you had the audacity to smile at him.
“Great,” He replied in a strained tone, “Just perfect. So, I’ll uh, leave you to get settled in and-”
Just then a portal opened over the canopy bed and two packed suitcases landed there, courtesy of Charlie. Lucifer tasted his daughter’s magic in the air and sighed resignedly; whatever Charlie had planned she wasn’t backing down from what she likely thought was a good idea.
“Right on time,” Lucifer commended the fine timing of his daughter, and even though he was clearly uncomfortable with her plan to give him company, he did seem genuinely proud of her expert timing; then again, he was proud of anything she chose to do even if he didn’t always understand what it was she was doing.
“Great,” He repeated somewhat tiredly. Then he forced himself to smile. It was important that you would see him happy so that Charlie would hear about it later. “You go ahead and unpack. I’m going to do some very important work.”
The sentiment of ‘Don’t disturb me!’ hung in the air, unspoken, but obviously there.
Once Lucifer left, you flopped down on your bed, thinking about all you had seen. You checked your phone, finding several texts from Charlie, progressively getting more impatient as she awaited your reply with a somewhat hyper-anxious anticipation; it seemed the apple truly didn’t fall far from the tree.
‘How was your arrival?’
‘Did you get the grand tour?’
‘Which room did he put you in?’
‘I bet it was the Rococo room.’
‘Oh no, he didn’t put you up in my old room, did he? That would be so EMBARRASSING!!!’
‘Wait, why aren’t you replying?! PLEASE TELL ME HE’S BEING NICE TO YOU!’
‘I can come over if you need me to.’
‘Did your bags get there okay?’
You smiled and decided to put Charlie out of her misery. Your phone alerted you that she was already writing another message, but as soon as you started to compose one of your own, the notification that she was typing disappeared.
‘The tour was fine. Lucifer has been nothing but polite,’ and frazzled, you thought, though you omitted that part from the text; it was best that Charlie didn’t have anything extra to worry about while preparing for her meeting with Heaven.
‘My room is also amazing btw. I don’t know about Rococo or whatever, but it’s certainly stunning, and judging by the lack of stuffed animals and probably cheesy posters, I’m guessing it isn’t your old room.’
You really meant that. While your room was in need of a good cleaning, and there was a slightly off odour, it was indeed beautiful with its lacquered wooden floors, rich velvet drapes (Hell-Red of course) and lustrous emerald wallpaper. It was one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen, especially since arriving in Hell, not long dead after… the incident.
You removed your thoughts far from the grim memory of your death, not wanting to relive your demise. It never did any good to think of such things, and you had to wonder whether all Demons fixated on the manner in which they perished. Perhaps some were lucky enough to die in their sleep or get hit by a bus; at least the latter would be quick, and the former peaceful.
Moreover, you also believed the other part of your text; Lucifer probably kept Charlie’s room as a shrine to her youth. He seemed like the sort of person who was stuck in the past.
Your phone buzzed again, and you expected another message from Charlie, but it was from Angel Dust.
‘When you get the chance, snoop in the Short King’s bedroom and find out what kinky shit he’s into. I’m betting food play. He seems like a whipped cream and apples kind of guy if you catch my drift.’
Betting? He had undoubtedly roped Husk and Nifty into said bet. Husk had likely opted for a safe option like bondage… You didn’t want to know what kind of kinky shit Nifty thought Lucifer was into; that girl was a dark horse.
“Never going to happen,” You murmured to yourself with a chuckle; you would never invade Lucifer’s privacy like that, but Angel’s text had made you laugh and distracted you from your earlier thoughts.
Getting up, you pushed yourself into action and began unpacking both your thoughts and your few clothes and possessions. You lit a scented candle that Angel had gifted you. It was one of his unwanted gifts from Valentino, Blueberry Blowjob. You were glad when the scent filled the air, taking away from what you incorrectly assumed was the faint smell of mildew. The smell didn’t concern you, you had plenty more candles and tea lights with such names as Orange Orgasm, Popcorn Pussy, and Cherry Cum-Shot.
The manner was well furnished, but all of the rooms were neglected. There were seven parlours in total, each matching the theme of one Sin, probably because it would be polite should they ever need to meet with the Royal Family one-on-one. Despite that, they seemingly hadn’t been used in some time, nor had the library or any of the living rooms. You hadn’t seen much of Lucifer’s room as he rushed you past the door, which had only been slightly ajar, but what little you had caught a glimpse of seemed cleaner than the rest of the manor. Did he spend all of his time in there? Alone? That was… It was sad. Lucifer could live well among anyone in Hell, except maybe Alastor, yet he couldn’t see the good in anyone.
Without Charlie and Lilith that must be lonely. How depressing that he had created a kind of personal Hell inside of Hell. You were starting to think that Charlie was right to send you home with him.
Still, it seemed like he needed some time to get used to the idea of company and you had a job to work as his maid. Once you were unpacked, you would seek out the cleaning supplies and get started.
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Lucifer draped himself over his workbench, listlessly toying with a rubber duck. It was one of his worst creations… Couldn’t even breathe fire.
He didn’t even know why he continued to make them. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything else to make, and it was better to make something than nothing, even if he ended up creating the same thing over and over again, clinging to the memory of how one celestial duck had made Charlie smile.
Her smile was everything. Even Heaven couldn’t take that away, or… Maybe they could, if this meeting went awry. No. Please God, No. Not that. Anything but that. Kill the sinners. Show him the agonising mistake of Free Will for eternity, but he hoped to never see the day that Heaven treated his daughter with the same derision they typically reserved for him.
Lucifer froze, a glower darkening his expression as you knocked on the door.
He had clearly implied that he didn’t want to be bothered. IMPLIED IT! It hadn’t even been one day and you were bothering him.
Lucifer didn’t open the door. He didn’t want you to see inside his room. That was his space and his alone. Yet, he didn’t want any risk of you barging in, so he poofed himself to where you stood outside, using a glamorous entrance to grab your attention.
“Yes?” He said expectantly, leaning forward on his cane, as if leaning closer to you didn’t disturb him half as much as it did.
“Oh,” You blinked back surprise, though you weren’t too shocked seeing how Alastar always snuck up on you at the Hotel in a similarly flamboyant manor. “Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I just wondered if you could tell me where the cleaning products are kept? I would like to get started as soon as I can.”
Cleaning products? Lucifer was stuck on the sentiment as if he’d never heard of such foreign words. Then he seemed to remember, you had been volunteered as his maid. Right… That was Charlie’s way of making him take you.
You waited patiently for a response, having quickly learned that your host tended to drift between a fast-talking façade or thoughtful distractedness. You wished you didn’t have to ask him for help, but after searching three floors and the attic, you had gotten somewhat turned around, and you had no idea where you had already looked; the manor was massive.
Finally, Lucifer seemed to come to and he began boredly examining his hand.
“That won’t be necessary,” He stated demurely.
“It won’t?”
“No. It won’t.”
Behind you, Lucifer caught sight of a portrait of his family. The frame was carved blood-wood harvested from a Tree-Demon who once dared to insult Lilith in Lucifer’s presence. Two winged snakes adorned opposing corners of the portrait. With a lazy wave of his hand, they creaked and snapped, coming to life, and escaping their previous wooden home, leaving only indentations where they used to be. With another magical flourish, they grew slightly and became more life-like, shedding splinters as their new uniforms appeared.
“There, see, two half-sized cleaners. They’ll take care of everything.”
You stared hard at the new servants of the house, somewhat amazed by the show of power; nobody else in Hell could do anything close to creating life, and it seemed that Lucifer didn’t even care that he had such power.
Frankly, Lucifer was upset with his new creations. He had finally strayed from ducks, creating something new for the first time in over a century, and they were still bland. When he had created Razzle and Dazzle for Charlie, he had done everything he could to make them beautiful and unique. These abominations in front of him were cheap copies of that Sir Pentious fellow he had seen at the hotel. He just didn’t have anything left worth creating. There was no point.
Whatever. The snake servants would do their job quietly and obediently. And they’d be more useful and less annoying than Charlie’s reptilian friend.
“Oh, okay. Well, is there anything else you’d like me to do?” You asked, wishing to be useful. “I can cook pretty well, or I could run errands, or-”
“NO!” Lucifer snapped.
“But-”
“Don’t you get it?! I DON’T NEED YOU.”
Lucifer forced himself to take a calming breath, his gaze downcast so he didn’t have to look at you.
“This is all my daughter’s plan. All you have to do is stay out of my way here and Charlie will be happy. Do you think you can manage that?”
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works-of-fanfiction · 10 months
Text
Kiss and Make Up || Daniel Ricciardo x Reader
Summary: With the couple on a break, it’s hard for Daniel to see Y/N, especially when she’s looking so good in his favourite dress.
Song: Kiss and Make Up - Dua Lipa & BLACKPINK
Warnings: 18+ oral (f receiving), unprotected sex. A little bit of swearing.
Word Count: 3.6k
a/n: I think (???) I’m getting a little better at writing smut. one day I swear I will write one without giggling after every sentence. enjoy!
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Daniel's blood boils as he watches her, watches his girl at the centre of attention of his fellow drivers. He wants to be angry at her for entertaining them in the first place, but he's angrier at his so-called friends for gawking at her and passing off their obvious flirting as 'just being nice'. It's annoying because she knows she looks good - incredible, in fact - an emerald green satin dress hanging perfectly on her body, displaying just enough leg to be considered dangerous. It bothered him even more that he chose that particular dress, and now she was parading around in it for everyone to see; for everyone to stare and drool over her. He didn't like it one bit, but he didn't have a choice. 
It was his fault that they were on a break. He'd lashed out, said horrible things. Tension had been brewing between them for a couple of weeks and she could sense he was about to burst. She hadn't done anything wrong; he could see that now. He'd had more than enough time to sit with his thoughts and come to regret everything he'd said, but she hadn't been interested in hearing his apology. At first, in his anger, he'd blamed her friends. He was convinced their influence had led her to her decision, that they'd been whispering in her ear and plotting against him for some time. However, deep down he knew it was nobody's fault but his own. 
The 'will he, won't he' situation at Alpha Tauri had gotten the best of him. His overwhelming desire to race took up all of his attention, leaving Y/N completely on the sidelines. She'd understood, of course she had. Racing was Daniel's dream and she knew how important it was for him to find a seat and get back out on the track, but when things seemed to get difficult and look uncertain, Daniel directed his frustrations towards her. 
"You're a fucking coward, d'you know that? Who are you to stand here and speak to me like that?" 
"Oh, drop the bigger person act, Y/N. It wasn't too long ago that you were going through a rough time and - " 
"Don't you fucking dare. You know that doesn't compare to the way you've been behaving. It is completely different." 
"You know how important this is to me. Sorry, but I think I'm allowed to be a little stressed." He held his hands up in mock surrender which only irritated her further.
"A little stressed, yes. A total asshole? No." 
"Where are you going?" He asked, watching her scoop up her phone and keys from the counter and stuff them into her pocket.
"Anywhere you are not. I can't be around you when you're like this, Daniel." Her voice cracked as she turned away, but she didn't allow him to see her cry. He may not have approved of her being the bigger person, but it's what she had to do. A text a couple of hours later confirmed her need for space, and after spending thirty straight minutes trying to type a response, Daniel realised he had to respect her wishes.
“Here.” Max interrupts, sliding a drink into Daniel’s hand.
“What’s this?”
“I couldn’t stand and watch you stare at her any longer. At least with a drink in your hand you actually look like you’re at this party and not just a creepy stalker.” He chuckles into his glass, the joke going over Daniel’s head, not even bringing the slightest smirk to his lips.
Max gulps, wincing a little at the strength of his drink. “Just go talk to her.” He says, eyes flicking between his friend and Y/N.
“I can’t. She wants space and I have to respect that.”
“Yeah, but anyone can see you’re not okay with that…”
Daniel knew Max had a point. As much as he wanted to give Y/N the space she needed and do everything he could to fix their relationship, he hated being away from her. He hated sitting across the room whilst she pretended he wasn’t there. She hadn’t looked at him once throughout the entire evening and it was starting to aggravate him. He needed to talk to her, even if it was just to find out how she was doing. He didn’t even know if that was a question he had the right to ask, but he wanted to anyway.
Plus, the way she was strutting around in those heels and playfully fixing her hair every few minutes was driving him insane. His eyes couldn’t resist following the trail from her feet, up her legs and to her hips. If she so much as leaned over the bar or stretched to grab something, he’d see beneath the thin green satin and hopefully find out she was wearing tiny, or perhaps no underwear.
He fidgets uncomfortably in his seat, setting his glass down on the table before his knuckles turn white from gripping it so tightly. As Y/N takes Carlos’ hand and twirls beneath his arm, Daniel jumps up from the stool, holding onto the table to steady his feet. “Hey, come on. You know they’re good friends.” Max warns, holding an arm out to try and stop him.
“Make your mind up, Max. You told me to go and talk to her.” He doesn’t even look at Max as he speaks, as his gaze remains fixed on Y/N whilst she dances with the Ferrari driver. There’s nothing suggestive between their dance, and it’s not the first time Daniel has seen them together like this, but he’s suddenly not as comfortable with it as he usually is.
“I think you should calm down a bit first.” Max tries to be stern with the older driver, but he knows his words are going through one ear and straight out the other side. Daniel glances at the Dutchman and gives only a second of thought to his words, then chooses to ignore them entirely.
Stepping past Max’s arm, he makes his way into the crowd and closer to Y/N. Mid-conversation, Charles and Pierre’s heads turn to the Australian as he weaves around clumsy partygoers, almost parting the room in two to get through. The two of them shuffle closer to the bar to get a better view as he reaches Carlos and places a hand on his shoulder.
“Can I cut in?” He asks, once again not bothering to look at who he’s speaking to. Instead he looks down at Y/N, who glares up at him with cold, unblinking eyes.
“Sure.” Carlos mutters, stepping aside, failing to notice Y/N tightening her grip on his hand to try and stop him. Daniel takes his place, his hands awkwardly hovering near her waist.
“Are you going to wrap your arms around me, or just stand there?” She asks abruptly, her tone coming out a lot more aggressively than she’d intended.
Daniel’s hands find her waist and pull her closer, making sure no one else can hear their conversation. Her hands are pressed against his chest awkwardly, all attention concentrating on her feet so she doesn’t fall.
“What do you want, Daniel?” She sighs, exasperation and downright exhaustion evident in her voice. This makes Daniel’s stomach turn and part of him wants to fall to the ground and beg for her forgiveness. He never thought he’d see the day when he’d be the one to make her feel like this. She was disappointed in him, and he was kicking himself for ever uttering a bad word to her.
“I need to apologise - “
“No, you just needed to get me on my own away from the guys.”
Her icy tone catches him off guard, but he feels he deserves it. As much as he’s desperate to finally apologise, he can’t deny that seeing her spending her night with everyone but him was making him jealous. He’d watched her friendships with the drivers blossom over time, especially Carlos and Lance, yet seeing their arms around her and smiles aimed in her direction tonight drove him crazy.
“Am I wrong?” She mocks, reluctantly wrapping her arms around his neck for the sake of her own comfort.
Daniel chooses not to answer, which is an answer in itself. She sniggers, looking off to the side to see the group all engaged in conversation with one another. She knows they’re all putting on an act and pretending not to eavesdrop. Those drivers love a gossip just as much as the next person.
“I don’t like seeing you with them.” Daniel finally admits, his voice low. He doesn’t intend for the entire grid to know his business.
“It’s never bothered you before.”
“Well this time is different.”
“How?”
“Because you’re not speaking to me.”
“And whose fault is that?”
Silence falls between the couple, Y/N’s hold around Daniel’s neck loosening. He reaches up and grabs her hands, readjusting them and holding her wrists tightly. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” She asks, glaring up at him, a devious smile poking at her lips.
“Don’t try to walk away from me.” He lets go of her arms, letting them float down to her sides as he leans in close, lips pressed against her ear. “Especially not when you’re dressed like that.”
She scoffs, rolling her eyes at his words. A poor and sorry attempt at winning her back, yet completely expected from Daniel. “You think sex is going to fix this?”
“Who said anything about sex?” He plays dumb but she sees straight through him. That had always been a thing in their relationship; they were both terrible liars, or rather couldn’t lie to each other as the other could always spot it.
Stepping back, she calls over to Kika who’s stood between Pierre and Charles, tracing circles around the rim of her glass. “Bathroom.” She smiles and Kika nods, slipping away from the table.
Daniel sees this and steps forward, blocking Kika’s path. “Actually, she doesn’t need you to go with her.”
“Daniel - “ Y/N snaps, cut off by his arm linking with hers and pulling her in the direction of the bathrooms.
“Come on.” He barges through the doors, squeezing the two of them into the first stall and turning the lock.
“I can’t believe you just spoke to Kika like that.” She whispers angrily, yanking her arm out of his grasp.
“She’ll get over it.”
“Pierre won’t.”
Y/N folds her arms over her chest, leaning against the flimsy cubicle as Daniel’s eyes wander around the small space. She sighs, heels scraping against the ground as she stands back up straight. “Well you got me here. What do you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“Actually, I don’t. Did you bring me in here to apologise… or was there something else?” There’s a shift in her tone and a look in her eye that Daniel instantly recognises. He knows she’s still angry at him, but sees there’s a part of her that wants him just as much as he wants her.
Sparing her a proper response, he slips a knee between her legs and pushes her against the wall. It shakes a little, encouraging a small smile to appear on her face. “You disappoint me, Ricciardo.” She purrs, running a perfectly manicured finger across his jaw.
“Something tells me you’re not so disappointed.” He grinds his knee upwards, pressing it against her clothed pussy. She groans, body slumping forward in pleasure. He catches her with his chest, pushing her back up, keeping her upright against the wall. “Does that sound like the moans of a disappointed woman?”
“Shut up.” She hisses, delicate fingers wrapping around his throat to pull him in for a kiss. Daniel moans, the sound strangled as her nails dig into his neck. The kiss is entirely in her control as she holds him in place, squeezing his throat just enough to make his breath hitch. She draws back, sucking his tongue between her lips and letting it go with a quiet popping sound.
“If we do this, it doesn’t magically fix anything.” She breathes, releasing her grip on him to rest her hand on his chest.
Daniel is smart enough to know better, and knows that hasty sex in a bathroom stall isn’t going to mend all of their problems, but he’s too turned on and fuelled by liquid courage to care. Running his hand over the top of hers, he links their fingers and flips her around to face the wall, pressing her palm flat against the cold wood. She yelps in surprise as he uses his free hand to hike her dress up. He’s delighted to see the black lace that’s barely covering her, and he hooks his forefinger through the waistband to pull her ass towards him. “Planned on getting lucky tonight, huh?” He taunts, his fingers tracing the patterns in the lace.
“I was hoping one of the guys would take me home.” She quips sarcastically, bending over more and grinding her ass against his hand. Daniel groans, letting go of her hand so he can use both freely. He grabs her ass and spreads her legs, his mouth falling open at the sight of her pussy peeking through her underwear.
Wasting no time, he drops to his knees and pushes the thin string to the side, giving him full access to the part of her he needs the most. Feeling his hot breath against her exposed cunt, she gasps, parting her legs even further. “That’s it.” Daniel hums, taking his middle finger and running it slowly through her folds. Y/N’s legs quiver as he touches her, barely inserting a finger as he concentrates on circling her pussy and feeling just how soaked she is. His finger eventually finds its way to her clit, flicking gently against the swollen bud, making her whole body twitch with arousal.
She moans his name, the word elongated on her tongue. He stops for a second, lying his hand flat against her core. “Shh… You don’t want people hearing us now, do you?” He whispers.
Squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip to suppress any further sounds, Y/N nudges Daniel with her leg, urging him to continue. Instead, he grabs her thighs and pulls her closer to him, her feet sliding along the slippery tiled floor. “Let me taste you, baby.” The sound of his voice disappears between her legs, her thighs almost cupping his cheeks as he finds her clit with his tongue. The tip of his tongue swipes across her clit, slowly then repetitively in a rhythm. His hands hold onto her thighs tightly, his fingers leaving indentations in the supple skin.
Y/N sinks her teeth into the back of her hand, trying her best to stay quiet. Saliva and bite marks cover the spot just above her wrist whilst Daniel buries his head further and laps up her pussy like a starving animal. His nose pokes between her folds, and the newfound friction elicits a heavy exhale from deep within her chest.
Desperate to keep that nose she loves so much as close to her as possible, she reaches behind to grab Daniel’s head and guide him to the perfect spot. Fingers tangling in his hair and clutching at the roots, she rides his face, relishing in the feeling of his tongue flat against her clit, and the tip of his nose pressing into her. Daniel holds his breath as she ruts her hips against his face, gripping her thighs until it hurts. She winces, tensing the muscles as she rests her forehead against the wall, teeth still gnawing on her hand. He grunts, the sound sending a vibration to her clit and throughout her entire body, making her knees buckle beneath her. He catches her, supporting her body with his hands alone as he delves his face deeper to suck her clit into his mouth.
Losing all sense of caring, Y/N lets her hand fall free from her lips, releasing a stifled moan that echoes around the bathroom stall. Her thighs squeeze together involuntarily as she comes, and Daniel has to prize them open to set himself free. He stands, hands fumbling with his jeans as he sloppily lays kisses on the back of her shoulder, his chin still slick with moisture, so much so that Y/N can smell her own scent filling the air.
“What did I tell you about staying quiet?” Daniel whispers, his lips barely touching the back of her ear.
“I’m sort of sick of you telling me what to do.” She retorts, attempting to hide the shakiness in her voice. Daniel rolls his eyes, trying to ignore her words as he pushes his jeans and boxers down his legs, leaving them bunched around his ankles. He knows she’s not just talking about the present, but he’s too desperate to feel her wrapped around his cock to let it bother him. He hasn’t been able to touch her for weeks, and seeing her spread wide for him like this is enough to almost push him to the edge already.
Hands gripping her dress around her waist, he pulls her towards him, sliding his cock inside her effortlessly. Mutual gasps of pleasure and hissed curse words slip off of their tongues as he bottoms out inside of her, his clammy hands losing grip of the satin. Reaching round to grab her arms, he crosses her wrists and holds them behind her back, forcing her cheek against the wall to support her upper body. There’s an aggression to his actions, one hand holding her wrists and another snaking its way into her hair. Tugging her head back, he leans forward, his face beside hers. She looks at him through her peripheral vision, a smug smile on her face as she notices his slack jaw and half-lidded eyes. Daniel was never truly in control when it came to Y/N. The effect she had on him was dangerous and made him want to do things unimaginable. All she had to do was look at him a certain way and he’d literally and figuratively drop to his knees for her.
Daniel’s slow thrusts tell her that he doesn’t plan on lasting very long. Despite his tight hold on her and rough fingers in her hair, his hips roll in leisurely circles, the tip of his cock stroking her g-spot in a deliciously torturous rhythm. The restroom door creaks, a collection of footsteps clattering along the floor outside. With shadows passing the stall and voices filling the space, Daniel drops his hand from Y/N’s hair, instead using it to cover her mouth and keep her quiet. She tilts her head, sucking his forefinger into her mouth, her tongue wet and warm and making Daniel’s cock twinge inside of her. He moans, trying to swallow the sound so nobody will hear.
Daniel’s wet finger trails out of her mouth and down her neck, drawing a line of her own saliva along her throat. Wrapping his arm across her upper body, he holds her close as he fucks her, the heat between them making his shirt stick to his chest. Beads of sweat run down the back of Y/N’s neck and under her dress. Even beneath the harsh bathroom lighting, her skin glistens and looks good enough for Daniel to taste, to lick clean.
Voices gather at the sinks, water running and paper towels unravelling from the holders. Daniel silently prays for them to hurry up and leave, the feeling of Y/N’s pussy clenching around his dick becoming too much to bear. The muffled sounds of the music outside briefly fill the room, before disappearing behind the door. He releases his breath with a long groan, his body slumping against hers. “Finally.” He hisses, stepping back and pulling her ass with him, bending her into a perfect L-shape.
Relieved to be alone again, their pants and moans circle around the stall as Daniel drives his hips back and forth, quickening the pace. His firm grip on her ass cheeks leaves little white outlines around his fingers as he coaxes himself to climax. Hearing the sweet sounds coming from her mouth sends him over the edge, his thighs stiffening as he comes inside her, his body jolting forward in ecstasy. She straightens, resting her body against the wall with Daniel pressed against her back, his sweaty forehead slumped onto her shoulder. He pulls out with a huff, his cock leaking with cum and legs feeling sore.
Y/N readjusts and pulls her dress down, smirking to herself as she feels cum drip out of her and pool inside her underwear. She runs her hands through her hair, hoping she looks presentable as she turns to face Daniel. He zips his jeans and smiles at her, but doesn’t earn a smile back. “I told you, this doesn’t change anything.” She states flatly, reaching for the lock. He stops her, taking her hand in his.
“Come home with me.” He pleads, running his thumb softly over her knuckles, a stark contrast to the way he’d touched her just a few minutes prior.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Daniel’s expression remains serious. He opens his mouth to repeat himself, but she cuts him off with a defeated sigh. “Fine. But we leave now. I don’t need to be dealing with questions.”
“Deal.” He smiles, earning an eye roll from her as she unlocks the door and heads out, her heels clicking against the tile. He follows close behind, the satisfied grin never leaving his face.
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kaerumi · 9 months
Note
Hello dear, I was wondering if you can do some yandere for the very infamous OP men shanks, mihawk,ace,and sabo with normal y/n who's younger than them in separate senariors..
Y/N traits : innocent, sweetheart, warm personality, enchanted beauty with extremely cutie pie face and amazing warm and calm voice that melts the snow from its sweetness it's make anyone feel at ease only by hearing it , it's one of the most reasons why those men had gone insane over her ,why they want to possess her at any cost .
TY and have a good day ☺️.
TW/CW: Yandere, Age gap is up to 3 years, obsession, implied murder, implied poisoning, mention of murder & arson, manipulation (for Sabo)
Notes: I'll be honest I have no clue how to do an innocent reader. And it's gonna be GN Sorry I don't particularly do Female readers Also sorry for not writing in so long :^
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Shanks
Shanks was a popular Model, he can flirt with anyone without hesitation.
Then there was you, you weren't popular at all. When he saw you he felt the urge to just... Take you.
He felt jealous of the guys around you that soaked in your attention, in your voice and innocence and especially your beauty.
He just needed it. Needed you.
Eventually he started obsessing over you trying to find every photo there was of you, eventually it got worse
Just hope for both your innocence and sanity you don't meet him.
Until you did.
And suddenly you started to notice people around you get killed, you somehow trusted the red bloody haired man with your safety.
"You'll be fine I'm here after all! All you need is me sweetheart."
After all what did you know?
You're innocent after all
And that's what made Shanks' job of getting you to be his more easier.
Mihawk
Mihawk was a famous swordsman and you were always interested in swords so naturally you took interest in Mihawk.
Unfortunately he took a interest in you as well.
You ended always staying behind the classes because of how much trouble you had with sword, you'd have small conversations with Mihawk.
Slowly Mihawk started to know everything about you and wrote of it down in a notebook that was always locked in a case.
When someone annoyed you too much or confessed to you they suddenly would fall ill and be unable to attend.
Due to Mihawk naturally being cold people didn't notice anything different about him and you didn't know better.
Though you slowly started to blame yourself because people around you would get ill and naturally they ended up dying to the illness.
"My dear... It's not your fault, they naturally fell ill. It is not your fault and anyone who is saying such things is a horrible person who is just jealous. It is unfortunate they fell ill yes but there was nothing you could do. My dear..."
You never knew why they fell ill, and you may never know.
Maybe it's better if you never did anyways.
Ace
Ace was Ace, he's a popular play boy in the town but all he did was flirt and play with hearts.
That was before you came along.
He knew he needed you once first meeting your eyes.
You were most certainly more cuter than anyone else's hearts he's played with.
He wasn't gonna break your heart, no. He could never, he was gonna make sure he was the only one in your heart not matter what he had to do.
He would do whatever you wanted to do or needed.
He'd gladly kill with no hesitation.
Want him to stab that guy who catcalled you? Done.
Want him to burn down a place that has bad memories? Done before you could mention it.
No one went near Ace when the missing people news started getting known, knowing how cold he got when it came to that, they tried to warn you how cold he could be.
You always laugh it off and hang out with him anyways.
He'd act like nothing was happening.
Why read the news when you already know it before anyone else?
You wake up from your nap when you started hearing the news "Mmmh?" Ace turns off the Tv "Don't worry about it my love just go back to sleep."
Sabo
Sabo was the second in command of a powerful business.
Once you joined everything changed.
However unlike the other three Sabo wouldn't kill, no. Sabo wouldn't want his hand or gloves dirty and blood stains too.
Sabo would figure out your favorite things to do and food and everything and give it all to you.
He'd spoil you with everything you'd ever wanted.
He'd help you with a lot of things
He sublely manipulates you into being dependent on him and him alone.
No one would dare go near you if they cared for their job or reputation.
No one went near Sabo either, Sabo didn't mind this, it just meant he could give all his attention to you.
He tested it once day by hiding on purpose.
When you realized Sabo wasn't there you got really nervous and got a bit upset, until Sabo popped
 up and helped you again which you immediately calmed down when he did.
Sabo smiled at you, he was glad that his plan was working and working well.
"Please don't leave me alone..." "I promise I won't ever again my angel..." "Thank you Sabo." "Anything for you. My sweet Angel."
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wonderlandwalker · 4 months
Text
Cherished Moments | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: Finnick is trying to get you to relax and, well, it works maybe a bit too much.
Content Warnings/Tags: Mostly fluff, small injury, lovesick Finnick, grumpy!reader x sunshine!Finnick, insinuations of violence, no use of y/n
Word Count: 1.2k
Requested by Anon: I love your writing!!! What do you think a grumpy reader × sunshine finnick would be like? Love the back cat gf golden retriever bf trope haha and I feel like finnick would be obsessed with someone who was mean to everyone BUT him! Feel free to ignore if you don't feel inspired, I'll read everything you write anyway!!
A/N: Can someone pls let me know if they actually manage to find the request after I've posted them I have no clue if these are getting through. Ngl this one was a struggle for me but once I found the right idea it came pouring out. Do they even have darts in the Hunger Games universe? Well, they do now. Keep sending me requests I genuinely love doing them!!
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“Come on, I know you can do it! I’ve seen you throw knives, this is pretty much the same thing, only smaller.” Finnick was trying to encourage you, but you weren’t easy to win over. 
“I’m telling you, I can’t. This is just different. The darts are so much smaller and lighter, it throws me off balance.” You were at a party in District 13, well, calling it a party would be generous. 
“Just try. I’ll help you come on. I promise it’ll be fun.” He couldn't hide his smile at your antics, but he also knew if anyone was able to convince you, it was him.
“Fine, but if something goes wrong it's on you.” You looked him in the eyes, and could see a spark of light inside them, and you wouldn't admit it, not with all the other people in the room, but it warmed your heart a little.
“It’ll be fine, what’s the worst that could happen” He asked you, and you almost scoffed at the question.
“I could hit someone, and then everyone will hate me even more than they already do”
“They don't hate you, they just don't know you the way I do.” Whenever someone would ask him what he saw in you, he would always be dumbfounded. Sure, you had a hard exterior, but when someone has gone through as much in their life as you did, were you really to blame? No, he didn't understand the question, because, to him, you were perfect. Whether you were sulking at breakfast for having to leave the bed or smiling at him because they were serving your favourite dish for dinner, he would take anything you gave him. 
“Are you telling me that you, the victor of the 70th Hunger Games, are afraid of hurting someone with a tiny dart?” He was challenging you, and it was working.
“I'm not afraid, I just don't want anything to go wrong.” The way your voice softened around him made his heart beat faster for you and sometimes, he swore you knew and were doing it on purpose.
“You won’t, just throw it straight into the board.”
Finnick is standing behind you, grinning like he’s just won some sort of lottery while he guides your arm up for you, you can feel his breath on your neck before he whispers “Come on love, do it for me.” You’ve never been able to deny him, to your own annoyance at times, so you do as he says.
The dart flies through the air, and it doesn't hit the board, but it comes relatively close. So you throw a second dart and it hits the board, but you don’t manage to score any points just yet. As you throw another one, it manages to hit the board, but only for a little while before it falls to the floor. You throw your hands up in defeat before saying “See, told you I couldn't do it.” But Finnick hasn't given up, in you, he would never give up.
“That’s nonsense, you just have to try again, be patient.” He walks over to collect your darts and hands them back to you. He steps behind you again, guiding you into the right position before speaking.
“Just close your eyes, imagine you’re throwing them at Snow.” It makes you laugh and he can feel your muscles relax. He would always feel so proud of himself when he made you laugh, he didn't mind that you don't do it often, it would only feel like so much more of an achievement.
You do as he says, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath right before you throw the dart, hitting it right in the bullseye. You throw another, hitting the bullseye again. But you miss the board with the next one when Finnick leaves a small kiss on your shoulder, and your breath hitches. You can feel his body moving from behind you, and focus to throw another dart. It’s only when you hear an exclamation of pain coming from right in front of you that you snap open your eyes, you would recognize it anywhere. In front of you was Finnick, standing right next to the board with one of his hands clutched in the other, and when you take a closer look, you can see the dart that is stuck in the back of Finnick's hand.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry are you okay.” He would never tell you this, but he doesn't even mind that it happened, seeing you being sweet on him so openly, it makes him forget anything even happened in the first place.
“I'm fine sweetheart.” there is a strain in his voice, and he knows you can hear it too from the way your brows furrow in regret. You knew he wasn't trying to be tough for you, no, you had moved past that years ago. he was trying to not make you worry, it was something he would always do no matter how much pain he was in. But you were worried, because in contrast to all those other times, this time it was your fault that he was hurt. It never phased you much when someone would get shot, it never phased you much as you heard the canons each night in the arena signalling another death, not in the way it phased other people, but this, this broke you.
“Finnick you are not fine, there is a fucking dart inside your hand and it's my fault.”
“Well, most people don’t throw a fourth dart sweetheart." He says, and he chuckles a little, but you don't hear it in your state of worry.
“I am so sorry I-” You were choking up over your guilt, and while he loved getting to see your raw emotions, this one he didn't enjoy.
“Hey, no, I'm sorry too, don't get yourself worked up over this. It's just a dart, I will be fine. Why don’t you go get me a first aid kit?” He really was fine, and he could have gotten it himself, but he knew how much you would get in your own head when you didn't have anything to do in these kinds of situations. 
Once you come back and help patch him up, he looks up at you and you catch his gaze. A smile crosses his face in a way he knows his cheeks are going to hurt.
“Why are you smiling” you ask, confused at his glee in a situation like this.
“Because I know you care about me. You don’t always show it, and you don’t have to, because moments like these I’ll cherish forever.” His eyes are sparkling as he looks into yours, he swears he could just stand here and look at you for the rest of his life. 
“Oh, would you shut up already” you tell him while swatting his hand away from your face and rolling your eyes.
“You can’t tell me to shut up, you threw a dart into my hand.” He’s still grinning like an idiot, and it's infecting you. One of the corners of your mouth lifts up, and it's subtle, but he catches it, how could he not with how intently he is watching you. You’re back to your old dynamic, but he loves it just as much.
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dean-a-mean-tae · 4 months
Text
Stray Kids as Yanderes
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Request: "You have yandere on your event and masterlist so would you do skz as yanderes? I know you only do soft yandere and thats fine"
WARNINGS: Obsessive behavior, Murder, Mention of suicide, Toxic relationship, Drugging, Manipulation, Humiliation, Claustrophobic issues, basements, blood, tied to a ceiling (not the reader), mention of kidnapping, delusional mindset, mental abuse, self-harm, cussing, suggestive? talking about kissing, Stalking, I think that's it
I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO READ! You DO NOT have my permission to repost my work anywhere.
A/N: I wanted to expand on their jealousy, but this is already long enough. I struggled with Jisung so much! >:[ I WROTE THIS AT 2 AM WITH NOTHING BUT DORITOS AND COUGH MEDICINE IN MY SYSTEM!
Master list
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*.·:·BANG CHAN
Type: Manipulative Violence: 50-100% Possessive: 86% Jealousy: 65%
Punishments: Manipulation
The relationship looks normal at first glance. Chan takes care of you, but not so much that it feels like you're dependent on him. He lets you talk to people and leave the house. He waited until you were ready before moving you into his home, and he still waited.
You were cozy in the Venus flytrap, and its jaws were slowly closing.
He'd pick your friends off one by one. Chan starts with the acquaintances. They're not close to you, so it shouldn't hurt that much for them to leave you. He puts wedges between you and anyone trying to separate you. Your friend who had a crush on you is gone.
Chan is a dangerous yandere because of his awareness. He knows what he's doing is unhealthy and probably immoral, but he wants you. Chan needs you.
I don't think Chan would really have a punishment for you.
He'd just be doing the same thing he's been doing. He'll guilt trip you into feeling bad for lashing out. You think Chan is too possessive? You're right, but can you blame him? Anyone who looks at you would want to eat you like a snack and take you home with them for leftovers. He's just being cautious.
The jaws are shut, but something is stopping you from panicking.
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*.·:·LEE MINHO
Type: Possessive Controlling Violence: 56-97% Possessive: 100% Jealousy: 100%
Punishments: Isolation and Drugging Humiliation
Minho is yours out of courtesy. You are Minho's because he wants you. There is a difference. As soon as you learn it, everything will be easier for Minho for you.
As seen in this post, Minho likes to play with you. It doesn't matter if you don't want to play, he wants to play, and you will. If he can see the exhaustion in your eyes, then Minho will let you rest. Hope that he can see it. Hope, pray, do whatever.
The more "tired" you act, the less likely Minho is to give you a break. In a way, he wants you to break. How else will Minho know what not to do?
You're moving sluggish? Then we're moving around. You're about to fall asleep? Have this melatonin gummy that's actually an energy booster. Minho wants you to break so he can fix you.
If you start lashing out, Minho will make you more compliant. He'll slip it into your drink or your food. Depending on how exhausted you are, will depict how much he gives you. Minho doesn't want to kill you. He'd not let anyone else have you, not even death.
If you go, Minho goes. You are his, and you can't leave.
When you're delirious, he locks you in a room. Not your bedroom, of course. Minho wants that room to be a safe space for you. He'll lock you in the hallway closet if you're claustrophobic. Or he'll stick you in the basement with the lights off. Of course, you're in a concealed room, so nothing can get you, but you can't see that.
I'm a firm believer that Minho would humiliate you as punishment. He'll finally take you out of the house. He'll pick your outfit himself, and when you come downstairs and question his outfit, he waves you off. "I want the attention to be on you."
And it will be. What were you thinking about wearing colors to an all-black event? Why are you off the theme?
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*.·:·SEO CHANGBIN
Type: Protective Violence: 75-95% (Never to you) Possessive: 100% Jealousy: 12%
Punishments: Isolation
Sure, your happiness is important, but your safety is Changbin's top priority. You need to be healthy and protected. If this means killing someone disturbing your peace, then that's okay. If Changbin is causing you distress, he'll isolate the both of you for a break. Then it's back to being stuck together.
If you let him, Changbin will take care of you. He'll feed you, he'll bathe you, and he'll dress you. He will do everything for you until you tell him to stop, and even then, Changbin will push those limits.
Changbin's possessiveness is laced in his need to keep you safe. He would love for you to live your life. But why can't you live your life in the safety of his arms?
You think he's harming you? Well, imagine everyone else. What if he wasn't there? They're worse than him. They have no regard for your being, and Changbin knows this.
He's certain of it.
Your punishment is Changbin's dream. He'll lock you up in a room where you can't be hurt. Where you're safe. Where else is better for you?
Changbin who hides the number of lives he's taking to "keep you safe." He's certain your mind won't be able to handle it. You can barely look at the news about their deaths. So imagine finding out they're tied to you?
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*.·:·HWANG HYUNJIN
Type: Delusional Violence: 5% (Unintentional) Possessive: 98% Jealousy: 79-100%
Punishments: Isolation
You need him, and Hyunjin needs you. It's a fact, and you can't go against a fact. Well, you can, but you would be wrong. You and Hyunjin were meant to be. You were together in past lives. You will be together in future lives. In all timelines, you are together.
But Hyunjin is in this timeline, in the present, and he wants you now.
Hyunjin doesn't just love you. Hyunjin knows he is in love with you. He needs you like his lungs need air, how his heart needs blood. How the trees need our breath. But you don't want him? No, you're just confused.
And if not? Hyunjin will wait for the next life.
But in this life? Hyunjin doesn't mind ending it early. His body will be in the ground, his soul in the stars, and his breath in the sky. You have no choice but to be with him.
When you walk, your feet touch the ground Hyunjin's body is in. When you breathe, you inhale his air. When you cherish the stars in the sky, they sparkle and shine for you. They are his soul and past lives shining on you.
Hyunjin would never hurt you on purpose. He has no issues with locking you up if it means keeping you in check and him from lashing out at you.
"I will never hurt you. People don't harm who they love," Hyunjin tells you. He tells you this as he locks you in a room with a see-through door. Ironic coming from him, but at least you don't have to worry about him hurting you.
Hyunjin has no issues with giving you time. Time with him, but still time to realize that you are meant to be.
Hyunjin who is overjoyed when you finally return his feelings. Who is overjoyed when the Stockholm syndrome hits.
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*.·:·HAN JISUNG
(I had to let him marinate cause this was pissing me off ;-;)
Type: Quiet One Violence: 76-100% Possessive: Jealousy:
Punishments: Murder (not you)
Jisung is the type with earbuds on and scrolling on his phone to make the act believable. He's not listening to anything, but no one knows that. Jisung is eavesdropping on your conversation.
Jisung watches from the shadows. He leans against walls, tucks himself into corners, and hides in plain sight. Jisung needs to know everything about you.
Jisung takes your lost pencils, favorite candy wrapper, and anything you thought you "lost." Jisung who puts your things on the shrine in his basement.
Jisung finds everything about your family and friends. He finds out their habits and their tales. What makes them tick? How can he get them to put in a good word for him? Jisung, who fakes a smile for your love.
Jisung trains himself to be around you. He sneaks into your room and stands as close to you as he can without becoming a mess. He walks a little ways away from you and shortens the distance as he progresses. Jisung who hides his obsession out of fear of losing you.
Jisung who wouldn't hurt a fly, repeatedly stabs the person stealing you. His heart is steady, his face his blank, and his body doesn't tremble. Jisung who kills those who harm you, even those you don't know.
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*.·:·LEE FELIX
Type: Clingy Violence: 0% Possessive: 79-100% Jealousy: I don't know
Punishments: Manipulation
This relationship starts normal, but the longer you stay with Felix, the more his obsession progresses. It's a little hard for him to breathe without you, like running for miles with asthma and no inhaler.
Felix would never hurt anyone. You don't know that, though. Felix doesn't like death, and Felix doesn't want to hurt you in any way. Not truly, so Felix gives threats. Behave, or he'll kill *blank*. Stop acting out, or he'll take *blank* out.
If you ever call his bluff, he'll get fake blood and a dead body. Felix will stage the act. You come home, and it's peaceful until you hear noise from the basement. What's that red stuff on the counter?
When you get downstairs, there's blood everywhere, and your best friend hangs by their wrists from their ceiling. When you try to run, Felix, covered in blood, is in the doorway. He knocks you out, and you wake up in your bed.
Felix is scared out of his sleep by your panicked breaths. When you tell him of your "nightmare," his eyes will dull, and he'll look near lifeless. Your phone rings before you can question him, and it's your best friend. As you're talking to them, you glance at Felix, but he's back to normal.
Felix who kisses your cheek and wishes you a good morning before taking a shower. While he's in the bathroom, you check the kitchen and the basement, but everything is normal. When you get back upstairs, Felix is plaiting the table with your favorite breakfast food.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Felix's face is concerned, but his tone is knowing.
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*.·:·KIM SEUNGMIN
Type: Laidback Violence: 26% Possessive: Discreetly at 75% Jealousy: I'm conflicted
Punishment: Taking things from you
Seungmin doesn't want you stressing at all. If you have a problem, he'll fix it. Kidnapping you is too much work, so you won't have to worry about that. Seungmin will let you see your friends and family, and let you go out without him.
He knows you would never leave him.
As an idol, Seungmin can get people to watch you when he's not with you. As a person with "normal" status, he finds a way to convince your friends that you have a stalker and he just wants updates on your safety.
They'll send discreet pictures of you so you aren't panicking. They're trying to keep you safe. What if your stalker is watching you now? Seungmin wouldn't lie about your safety. He loves you, and they know it.
You're starting to sneak around? He'll find out why you're sneaking. If it isn't a surprise for him then you have no business creeping around. He should know everything. You should willingly tell Seungmin everything, or at least make it easy for him to find out himself.
Seungmin's punishments start small. It starts with your passions. You like art? Your pencils are snapped, and your paints have been left with the caps off. You make music? Your instruments are locked away or smashed to pieces. Seungmin won't break something of sentimental value. Your studio is locked with everything inside it.
Maybe you like books? If he has to, Seungmin will go through your favorite book and fold the corners. He'll crease the spines of your books and lock them away so that when you get them back, they're messed up.
You read online? You have a Kindle or an app on your phone? That's fine. Your library is cleared out, and he'll start a new book just to make sure there isn't a "Start where you left off" option.
Seungmin isn't evil. He'll make a list of all the books in your library, online or on a shelf, and keep perfect copies. He'll buy you new paints or get you new instruments.
Seungmin who will send a picture of you with your family if you run away. "I hope nothing bad happens to them while you're gone."
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*.·:·YANG JEONGIN
Type: Obsessive Violence: Depends Possessive: 50-95% Jealousy: 76%
Punishment: Isolation, self-harm,
You're all he can think about. Jeongin depends on you. He can't eat, his sleep schedule is nonexistent, and he hasn't been outside unless you bring him.
Tell him to give you space, and Jeongin will hand it to you. He'll be fucking miserable, but he'll give you all the space and time you need. When you finally come back to him, kiss him long and slow or fast and intense.
Jeongin doesn't care. He wants you to be stuck to him like glue until you get sick of him and need a break.
Jeongin is fragile. His world revolves around you. You are the sun that brightens his day and the moon that guides him in the night. Lashing out at him about anything is a direct blow to his heart and soul.
You yelling at Jeongin. = You hate Jeongin.
He can't live while you hate him. He lives to please you. If you hate him, then Jeongin has failed you. Failing you means he failed himself, and life is too good for failure as bad as this.
Jeongin who tells you with a blank face but love-filled eyes that he would die for your love. Jeongin who will proudly show you each scar as punishment for making you "hate" him.
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©️DEANAMEANTAE2024
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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 1 year
Text
Wild Horses
Simon “Ghost” Riley x Female Doctor!Reader, Soap x Reader Part 2
Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4
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A/N: Y’all have asked and y’all have received. Enjoy! Let me know what you guys think, I always love to hear your thoughts! Reblogs are much appreciated! 😊💜
Summary: Imagine being the new physician assigned to the team and a certain masked individual takes a new keen concealed interest in you. The two of you are too awkward to function.
Warnings: language, fluff, angst. This one might be a little sad and Ghost is a bit of an ass-jerk so be prepared.
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As mentioned before, Ghost completely stays clear of your vicinity after stepping out of your office. It’s not that he hates you. He’s just slightly irritated. With himself? Or is it you and that pretty face of yours and your comforting voice and your goddamn politeness and your accent. To be honest, the whole team adores your accent. He can’t tell. Remind you, this is a man who has probably never been shown any affection or tenderness so don't expect him to fall for you on the spot. This man needs therapy, like a lot of therapy. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to go through whatever it is he is feeling, finding the whole thing to be an inconvenience really. And because he doesn't know how to understand or face whatever these emotions are, he just buries it. It's easier for him that way.
Poor dude couldn’t even sleep last night, staring at the ceiling of his room and haunted by the idea that he accidentally offended you. This man may have a cold exterior but your scalpels are colder and sharper than the devil's jawline. He almost couldn’t blame you if you decided to inject some foreign substance into his bloodstream and make the whole thing look like it was a stroke. Wait, could you do that? Bloody fucking hell. This man spends too much time with his thoughts I swear.
The man spends the whole night trying to assess his feelings, or rather his attraction towards you, convinces himself you're just another pretty face. The man may be touch-starved but he knows there are other methods to handle his needs, even though it's been a long time since he's slept with a woman, like a really long time. But even then, that situation was different. There was never any intimacy involved, like a quick business transaction that finished just as quickly as it started. It only left him feeling as empty as he was before. Not to mention, he doesn't do well with human interaction and that one and only moment he had with a woman daunted him more than it needed to, and so he has remained abstinent ever since. And if he were being honest with himself, you're just a distraction. And how do you handle distractions? You steer clear of them.
So what does this man do? He does what he intended to do. He avoids you at all costs. Oh, is that you walking towards their small, makeshift kitchen to fix yourself a bagel in the morning? Guess what, he’s doing a full 180 and lurking behind a wall like Michael Myers and his stupid hedge, waiting until you’re finished so he can make himself his morning tea.
Not only that but he makes sure to take extra good care of himself, Vitamin C supplements or multivitamins, whatever it takes to keep himself in best health. He even looks up on Google for extra tips to prevent himself from having to send himself in. He had heard of the saying “an apple a day keeps the doctor away” and goes out of his way to buy an apple during his morning runs. But the poor chap has it all mixed up because when you walk into your office the next morning, you're surprised to see an apple just sitting there on your desk.
Ghost doesn't know that it's supposed to be the other way around and that the apple is actually supposed to be for himself. He doesn't bother to search up the meaning, nor does anyone bother to tell him because they don't even know that he's doing it in the first place. So every morning he goes on his run, he goes out and buys an apple, and so every morning you find one placed on your desk.
The first time you saw the fruit sitting there on the table where you worked, surrounded by your scattered paperwork, you were confused no doubt. You picked it up curiously in your hand, inspecting the bright red fruit before giving a shrug and biting into it, after you wash it of course. You think it's just a small little token of thanks from one of the men. Possibly Soap considering how flirty he was yesterday. Alejandro doesn't seem like the type to give fruits. He's more of a red rose and a bottle of wine kind of man.
But as days go by, each day you find an apple sitting on your desk. And as thoughtful as this gesture is, at this point, considering the amount of apples you've eaten, you're either going to have serious digestive issues or die of cyanide poisoning, as if you don't already have IBS. So what do you do? You start to collect the apples each morning, deciding to throw in your own twist to this gesture until one evening, the men come back from one of their missions to find a freshly baked apple pie and a stack of paper plates and some utensils sitting out on a table for them, including a small little card with the handwritten words "bone apple tea". What in the hell.
"What in the fucks is bone apple tea." Gaz scrunches his nose at the writing on the little card.
They're all standing around at the table staring at the pie with confusion written across their faces. All except Ghost of course, the way his eyes slightly widen once he sees it. His gut is telling him you're behind it. Hm I wonder what gave it away.
"What’s this?" Alejandro asks, tilting his head at the thing.
"Looks like apple pie." Gaz answers.
"Yes I know that." Alejandro remarks. “But what is it doing here?"
"Doubt it's from any one of you muppets." Price speaks up. He knows damn well none of these men know how to bake. There’s only one person here whose hands are skilled or nimble enough to make the braided trim on that crust. Not to mention the detailing in the center, like the way you carefully placed little leaf designs made from the crust on top of the braided design. Yup this was definitely you, unless someone else here had a secret talent they had been hiding.
Literally why are these men acting like the pie has poison it. As if Graves sent it or something. Just shut up and eat the pie before it gets cold you himbos.
"So who made it?" Soap asks, looking towards the others for answers.
"This," Alejandro chuckles after finally realizing, "this was made by the hands of a woman."
"Who, y/n?" Gaz quirks a brow, you're the only woman here.
How in the hell did you get the means to bake a complete fucking apple pie in a place like this? They always heard doctors have skilled and steady hands but what the actual fuck.
"Well don't mind me." Soap literally cuts a big ass slice for himself before going off to devour the thing.
The boys watch Soap basically almost moan once he takes a bite of your pie as he goes off yelling out something along the lines of "well tidy scran", before helping themselves to a slice.
Ghost is the last one to cut himself a slice. He was hesitant at first before finally giving in, plus he also got back from a mission and he's hungry. So when he digs in his fork and has his first taste, it's kinda like that scene from Ratatouille where the food critic Anton Ego finally takes a bite of Remy's food and is reminded of his childhood, except Ghost doesn't have a childhood.
Let me tell you these men are obsessed with your pie and are practically fighting over the last slice like a pair of siblings so don't be surprised when you wake up the next morning to the see that the plate that your pie was in is completely empty without a single crumb in sight. Jesus. Did they lick the table down too?
Also I think you may have just given Ghost a newfound sweet tooth. When he went back to his room that night, he's debating on whether he should keep his daily routine of giving you apples, so far it’s kept you away. What he doesn’t get is that you made a whole damn pie out of the apples he gave you when they were actually supposed to be for you, or him, if you look at it from his distorted perception. But wait. What if you know it's him, and that's why you made the pie in the first place? A way to a man’s heart is not only between the forth and fifth ribs, but it’s also through his stomach. And as much as he wants to deny it, he also kind of secretly wants you to bake another one. It's almost as if he's completely forgotten why he placed those apples on your desk in the first place.
So what do you see when you wake up the next morning? An empty plate and yet another apple sitting on your desk. Okay what the fuck. You've let it slide all those times but now you have got to know who's pulling this shit. It’s not that you hate apples, but the conception that you have no clue who’s behind this is making you start to view the poor defenseless fruit as an object of taunting and torment. And to be honest at this point, you're beginning to think this is some kind of joke. So with the apple in your hand, you head towards the common area where the others are currently settled.
“Okay who did it?” You call out once you enter the area.
Crickets chirping.
All heads snap towards you to see you standing there with an apple held in your hand. They're almost stunned to see you wandering about. They rarely ever see you since you're usually locked up in your office or your room.
The men have done a lot of shit so just what is it that are you asking. They stare at you with not a single thought behind their eyes, that is until their blood runs cold at what happened last night. Was the pie not meant for them? Shit.
“Did what?” Gaz gulps, trying to play it off as nothing happened.
"Who keeps leaving apples on my desk like I'm about to host a county fair?"
"Come again?" Price asks, not that he didn't hear you, but it's probably the most anyone has heard you speak that isn't related to your work. Not only that, but they’re so used to hearing your “doctor” voice that your normal voice is a whole pitch lower and almost sounds foreign and alien to their ears. Not that they’re complaining because they honestly love hearing it.
"Someone has been leaving apples on my desk every single day." You repeat yourself more slowly. "And I'd like to know who."
So you're not mad about the pie.
Ghost immediately snaps his head away from your direction and nearly chokes on his tea. It's almost a miracle he doesn’t get whiplash from how fast he turns away.
The others are still staring at you, a tad bit scared of the expression that sat on your face. They couldn't make out if you were upset or not.
"Well?" You ask, leaning against the doorframe with your hand stuffed in your coat pocket while your other hand tossed the apple about in the air.
"Couldn't be me." Soap answers.
The others shake their heads as you squint your eyes at each and every one of them, trying to decipher the culprit. "Whoever it is, I will find out." You take a bite out of the apple before tossing it to the nearest person, who happened to be Alejandro, before starting to leave the area.
Alejandro catches the apple between his hands, staring down at the fruit with a chuckle to see where you had bit into it before taking a bite of his own.
Soap can't help but clench his jaw at Alejandro's cockiness. Ghost just turns away unbothered, it’s none of his concern. Or at least that’s what he tells himself.
"Wait you're not mad about the pie?" Gaz calls out after you.
"What pie?" You turn back.
Wot
"The pie....from last night."
"I have no clue what you're talking about." You put on your best innocent expression before walking away.
The men snap their heads towards each other. Have they been poisoned? The longer they stare at each other, the more panicked they get.
Alejandro glances down at the apple you had thrown in his hands and is so close to spitting out the bite he had taken.
"I'm kidding." Your voice nearly makes them jump out of their skin as they turn to see your head popped through the doorway. "The pie was from me." You walk away again before turning back around. "Oh, I almost forgot. I have your blood results so if you're free, come see me when you get the chance."
Shit. Ghost thinks to himself after hearing you mention the blood results. He is hoping his blood sample got demolished in some shape or form, but the way you didn't even try to pull him aside to break the "unfortunate" news tells him otherwise. He's just not going to show.
The men watch you walk away in silence after your little moment of humor. They almost don't know how to react. The way the warmth of your voice blended with the obscurity of your words threw them in for a loop.
All except Ghost have no clue who has been sending you apples, but whoever it is that is sending you the fruit, they think that person is trying to win you over. So what started out as some misunderstanding on Ghost's end has now turned into this whole peacocking ordeal. Now it's a competition of who gets you better gifts in order to gain your affection, mainly Soap and Alejandro and even Gaz, but mostly Soap. Price still shows you appreciation for your work and what you do in his own way.
Poor Ghost was just trying to manifest "an apple a day keeps the doctor away". So who’s gonna tell him?
Anyways, when you return to your office to work on your paperwork, the boys go out to get you a little something before meeting up with you to go over their bloodwork results. Despite Soap and Gaz's efforts, Alejandro is the first to leave and the first to return. And just as Soap returns with his little gift for you, Alejandro beats him to it, a smirk playing on his lips as he enters your office with a red rose in hand. Poor Gaz wasn't able to find you anything special so he gets you a cool looking rock he saw instead.
Soap is practically fuming. If you squint hard enough, you might see smoke coming out his ears.
You hear a knock on your door and look up from where you sat at your desk to see Alejandro stepping into your office, a sly smirk on his lips as he holds out a rose.
"Alejandro." You quirk a brow. "What's this?"
"For you, hermosa."
"Oh?" You cock your head back in surprise as you take the rose from his hands. "What for?"
"Oh just a little way of showing appreciation." Alejandro leans against your desk.
"Why thank you Alejandro" You blink, trying your best to push down the blush that tries to creep itself onto your cheeks.
"My pleasure."
You decide to place the flower inside the empty vase you had already set out from before when you moved your things in. "I had been meaning to get some flowers to brighten up the area."
"There's no need" Alejandro smirks. "I'm afraid the rose doesn't compare to you. You do that all on your own."
Little do you know Soap is listening in on the whole thing with a frown. If he pressed his ear any closer he'd fall right through the door. Sure the Scots have their special charm but Alejandro is different and has the most rizz out of all of them, and Soap is fully aware and has always heard they make better lovers and that only adds to his panic.
Now you're definitely not able to hide the heat that spread through your face. You can't tell if it's the state of being flustered or just social anxiety. Well they weren't wrong about Alejandro having a way with words. "Geez, thank you Alejandro. But there really is no need for flattery."
"For you, anything hermosa."
Omfg this dude.
You look away from his strong gaze, managing to shove your flustered state away and stopping yourself from releasing the sharp wit you inherited from your father. Clearing your throat, you open up his file. "Well that really is kind of you Alejandro. And since you are already here, I have the results from your blood work."
"Oh? Everything should be good yes?"
"Well yes, for the most part but-"
"But what?" Alejandro looks confused. What's wrong with his blood?
"Your cholesterol levels are pretty high." You open up his file and read over his results.
"They are?"
"I'm afraid so, but not at a dangerous level. You should probably cut out some of that fried food and red meat and watch your butter intake. Nothing too serious though. Add some greens into your diet, as well as some nuts and whole grains and definitely more fruits and veggies and you're good to go." You hand him a copy of his results before giving a look of grimace. "But watch out on the fiber though. Too much of it can lead to increased bowel movements."
"Increased what?"
"You know, a case of the shits."
The way Soap pulls his ear away from the door and slaps his palm on mouth to keep himself from letting out the most offensive laugh known to mankind. If only you could have seen it. Is he going to bring this up in Alejandro's presence? Maybe.
Alejandro looks over the papers you gave him. "Wait really?"
"Yeeaaah." You give the poor fellow a sympathetic smile. "But hey, everything you need to know is right on those papers, so as long as you cut out the foods mentioned and get a higher intake of the others listed, you'll be back to normal in no time."
"Oh uh. Thank you y/n. I appreciate it."
"Anytime Alejandro." You smile. "You know where to find me."
The way Soap nearly trips over himself as he backs away from the door after hearing footsteps, as if he wasn't eavesdropping on every thing.
Alejandro opens the door and walks out of your office, eyes glued to the papers while Soap is just standing there trying not to be noticed.
The moment Alejandro is out of sight, Soap goes over and knocks on your door.
"Come in." You look up and smile to see Soap. Over the course of the few days since you first arrived here, you were to quick to warm up to the young Scotsman, finding comfort and humor in his personality. You enjoyed hearing him talk about just about anything, and his accent always helped to make whatever he had to say all the more interesting. It really is a good thing he does most of the talking since you make a better listener and love to hear what others have to say.
Soap knows you don't talk much and how you prefer to listen and hear stories, so he always makes sure to keep you entertained. This man is 100% golden retriever energy. Also he calls you lass and lassie and you just eat that shit up, he loves how you blush and that small restrained smile appears on your face whenever he says it. Don't worry, so would I. "Soap! You can have a seat if you want, this will be brief."
"Oh uh, I've actually got you something." Soap hands you a small box.
"Oh?" You quirk a brow as you take the box from his hands? What is it with everyone giving you gifts? Are they in on something you're not? "What is it?" You ask as you open the small box to see a bunch of what looks to be biscuits.
"Scottish shortbread." Soap smiles, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. "I brought them along with me from back home but I thought you'd like them with your morning coffee."
"Wait, are you sure you don't want them for yourself? I feel bad."
"Nah. I can always get more.......if-when I go back home. You keep em. It's for ya. Think of it as a welcoming gift.....for all ya done, and the pie ya made for us."
"Soap, I don't know what to say." You give the man a heartfelt smile. "Thank you.....really, it's very thoughtful of you. It'll give me a variety from my bagels."
"Don' mention it." Soap places his hands behind his back before noticing a small framed picture you had set up on your desk that definitely wasn't there before. "Is that you?"
"Hm?" You raise you brow to see what he is referring to and seeing him gesture to the photo.
"Oh. Yeah, that's me as a little girl." You glance at the photo as a soft smile appears on your face. It was a picture of you when you were a little girl around the age of 5, when your dad took you on a camping trip to Zion. The two of you were sitting near the tent he had set up overlooking the mountain range with you sitting in his arms while he played his guitar, wearing that same old baseball cap of his that you had grown accustomed to seeing as you grew up. The longer you looked at the picture and relived that core memory, glancing at the crooked grin that sat on your little face and the way your father beamed, the more your face began to match the fond look that radiated off your father's eyes as he looked down at your giggling state.
"That's quite the smile you got there." Soap teases, chuckling at the expression you held in the photo.
"Oh please." You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what he was joking about. "I know I looked goofy. My baby teeth were falling out."
"And that's yer dad?"
"Yup. That's my old man."
"Ya have yer father's eyes." Soap smiles at you, knowing now where you inherited that certain warmth held in your eyes that was able to put the coldest man at ease by just one look.
You let out a soft chuckle, glancing down at the ground to blink away the tears that have yet to form before looking back up at the soldier. "I've been told."
"Where was this taken? The scenery is absolutely braw."
"That was taken at Zion National Park in Utah. My dad had taken me there on a camping trip."
"It's absolutely gorgeous."
"Maybe I'll take you one day."
"Ya mean it?" Soap turns towards you, a grin forming on his face.
"Why not? It's been a while since I went, not since the photo."
"I think you've just made my day lass." Soap smirks before turning to the other photo. "And I'm guessing that's you as well." Soap gestures to the other photo of you around your middle school years that your dad had taken of you, wearing a wet suit as you sat on your surfboard, a grin on your face and your hair matted with salt water while one of your hands formed the shaka sign. "I dinnae ken you surfed."
"Oh yeah, surfing was my life. This was back when I had caught my first wave in Hawaii. My dad was so proud. Took me out for shaved ice right after and couldn't stop bragging to everyone there about how effortlessly I had tube ridden that thing."
"Your dad sounds like a great man."
"The best."
Soap notices the way your smile ever so slightly dropped at one of the corners, as if some sadness had managed to overcome whatever memories that lied in your head so he clears his throat, deciding not to press on the subject any better. "So how does my blood look?"
"Good actually." You blink, his statement reminding you of what you were going to do since he stepped into your office in the first place. "Your levels are all pretty balanced." You hand him a copy of his results. "As for the muscle cramps you mentioned, try to get a higher intake of electrolytes like potassium, magnesium, and calcium. And most importantly, don't forget to stay hydrated and drink lots of water."
"Aye ma'am. I'll make sure of it."
"Thank you Soap."
"No, thank you." Soap gives you one last smile before heading out. "I'll see you around."
"Bye."
It was not long after Soap left that Gaz entered next followed by Price, hearing you go over their results with intent ears. You actually really loved the little rock Gaz had given you, he had even drawn a smiley face on for you. You thought it was really cute despite his embarrassment in not finding you something better. And after the two left, there was only one person left that had yet to show up at your door. Simon 'Ghost' Riley.
Not wanting to pressure the man who looks like he'd stab you for looking at him the wrong way, you decided to stay at your desk, working over some paperwork of your own until the time comes when he decides to show up whenever he sees comfortable.
Picking up your mug, you decide to get some more coffee, leaving your office and heading to the kitchen area to brew yourself a new cup. Looking up from your feet, you see Ghost walking walking in your direction in front of you.
"Ghost!" You call out to him, or as much as you can call out. You never were one for raising your voice, despite the many times your previous teachers had urged you to speak up, displeased with the way you preferred to keep to yourself as opposed to your more extroverted peers. But even when carrying out their commands to speak louder, you always hated doing so, thinking it drew too much attention towards you. It's a wonder you got through med school and became a doctor in the first place.
Ghost had heard you calling out his name and immediately his muscles tense. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him because that only meant one thing, being dragged into your office to go over his blood results until something else insulting slips from his lips. I promise he doesn't hate your guts! So in order to evade you, this man does the first thing that comes to mind, he walks straight into the nearest room, which just so happens to be the shared showers. Simon you dumb fuck. Let’s hope Price isn’t butt ass naked in there for Simon’s sake.
You blink, standing there with your mug that your friend from college thought would be funny to gift you when you started med school, the one that had the words "I have a PHD" in bold colorful letters with the finer print "pretty huge dick" right below it (of course you never used that mug back at the hospital or else you'd hear about it).
So with your mug in hand, you watch the masked man walk straight into the room where the shared showers were. Huh. Well that's weird. You try to give the man the benefit of the doubt, thinking he just did not hear you. Maybe he'll stop by later. So shrugging off what just happened, you head into the kitchen to make yourself a fresh cup of coffee. God an iced coffee sounds good right now.
Once you had headed back to your office, finishing up your work and taking little breaks in between to read your book or snack on something, an hour turned into two, and so forth. Until you looked at your clock and it was already past the time of sunset. Jesus. Where did this dude go? Getting up from your chair, you step out of your office, holding the door open and seeing not a single soul headed in your direction. What in the-
With furrowed brows, you step back into your office, staring down at Ghost's results that just sat there waiting to be picked up.
"Goddamn it." You hiss between your teeth. You have no idea what his issue is or why he avoids you as if you spit in his fruit loops or tea or whatever. But if he keeps this up, it could interfere with your own job. Looking around at your desk, an idea pops into your head as you grab two things that lied there, a sticky note and a two dum-dum lollipops, a sugar cookie flavor and a butterscotch one.
Heading out of your office, you head towards where the men's rooms are located before stopping at a certain particular one, surveying the area around you to make sure no one sees you before staring straight at the door in front of you. Taking out your pen, you write on the note "please stop by my office when you get a chance", making sure to add your initials in the corner before taping it to his door along with the two lollipops, hoping the candy will be some sort of bribe.
"God I hope this works and he doesn't shoot me in the head." You mutter out before heading back to your own quarters that was separate from the men's due to standard protocol. Throwing off your coat and your clothes, you threw on an oversized t-shirt and some sweats, eating a microwaveable dinner in your own room before getting ready to go to bed. There was nothing you craved more than to collapse onto the mattress and bury yourself under the covers. And as you finished brushing your teeth, turning off the lights and getting into a comfortable position under your blanket, all you could do was stare at the ceiling above you.
Little did you know, that same night, in that same moment, there was another who could not sleep, staring at the ceiling as you did now. He had saw the note that you had left him on his door, as well as the two lollipops. It almost annoyed him, whatever it was you were showing towards him. And it did not help that the note had smelled of you, of that perfume that oh so enriched his senses. The man literally has your note laying on top of his bedside table along with the lollipops. He'll throw it out first thing tomorrow he tells himself.
"Oh come the fuck on." You moaned as you turned over onto your side but to no avail. No matter how hard you tried to shut your eyes and shut out any thoughts that attempted at keeping you awake, you just could not fall asleep until you finally give up. "Jesus fuck shit fuck." You hiss to yourself as you throw the blanket off you, sitting up on your bed and throwing on your sweatpants before getting up. Usually on nights like this where you couldn't sleep, you'd find a way to calm your nerves, whether it be reading or drawing or listening to a comforting audiobook.
So, grabbing your pillow and blanket, you open up your closet and grab your father's acoustic guitar, going back over to your bed and staring at the framed photo of your dad that sat on the bedside table before taking that with you as well. Leaving your room, you make sure to be as quiet as possible, looking both ways before heading up towards the roof of the building.
When you were little and had trouble sleeping, your dad used to take you outside to where the two of you had built a little fort, where the two of you would lay under the stars, brushed over by the cool night breeze as he played his guitar, singing old folk and slow classic rock songs until you finally fell asleep. And as you stepped onto the roof, craning your neck to stare up at the stars above you, you were reminded of those moments and the peace it gave you. Setting your bedding down, you prop the picture of your dad up next to you before sitting down with the guitar in hand.
"Hey dad." Your voice is a whisper as you look down at the photo of your father beside you. The photo was taken not even a month after you were born. He had taken you to the fire station he was stationed at, excited to introduce his team to his new precious baby girl, his first child. You could almost say it was your favorite photo of him, sitting on the front bumper of the firetruck in his uniform with you bundled up in a pink blanket in his arms.
"I know it's been a bit of a while since we've last talked." You sigh, forming your fingers into a chord on the fretboard of the guitar. "So to make up for it, I'm going to sing you one of the songs I always used to sing. You know the one, it's one of my favorites, and yours too."
Despite his efforts to fall asleep, Simon had ended up stepping out of his room, walking about the grounds to somewhat ease his mind. This was obviously nothing new to him, he always had trouble sleeping. And during those nights he had trouble sleeping, he'd take a walk to help clear his head. He found comfort in the silence of the night, when everything and everyone was asleep. He would usually go to his favorite spot on the rooftop, where he would seek refuge under the obsidian skies and the silver stars.
As he goes up the stairs that lead up to the roof, he stops at the sound that comes from beyond the door, what sounds to be someone singing and strumming the guitar. Curious to know who the hell had taken his spot and had the radio playing, he goes up further to investigate. So imagine his surprise when he finds you there instead, wrapped up in your blanket and strumming against your guitar, singing The Sundays cover of Wild Horses.
"Childhood living is easy to do The things that you wanted, I bought them for you Graceless lady, you know who I am You know I can't let you slide through my hands" Your voice is ethereal as you sing out the lyrics, your face molded into these deep emotions you can't quite explain.
"Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild horses couldn't drag me away
I watched you suffer a dull, aching pain And now you've decided to show me the same No sweeping exits or offstage lines Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind
Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away
Faith has been broken and tears must be cried Let's do some living after we die
Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them someday Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them someday."
During the entirety of the song, Simon stands there in the distance behind you, hidden in the shadows, entranced, and can't seem to explain the tingles he feels washing over his body. He thinks he has intruded upon you and wants to leave you to your solitude in what seems to be an intimate moment for you, and yet he can't seem to be able to get his feet to move. Instead he's watching you with this newfound interest. He had never expected you to play the guitar as you did, nor have the voice that you did. So as you finish your song, he almost trips over his own feet trying to back away, scared that you might somehow notice that he had been there this whole time.
"God I miss you dad." You wipe away at the tears that start to spill down your cheeks despite your attempts to wipe them away with the back of your sleeve, scanning your eyes over the stars that scattered across the sky, imagining he was up there amongst them. "I miss you so much."
Regaining his footing, Ghost is careful to open the door leading back into the building, that is until he hears you let out what sounds to be a choked sob. He turns his head back towards you, seeing you bring your knees up to your chest as you cry out, mumbling something he can't quite understand. With his hand still holding the door open, he looks down at the set of stairs, turning his head back towards you for one more time before going down the steps, being careful to shut the door without any noise possible.
Part 3
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riddlerosehearts · 4 months
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thinking about how people who watch the emperor's new groove and somehow come out of it shipping pacha and kuzco, or thinking yzma only became evil when kuzco fired her and that she would've been a better ruler than him, are both so wrong in so many different ways and are also missing one of the things that i absolutely love about the movie. which is that, the way i see it, pacha and yzma are counterparts. as parental figures to kuzco.
like, just to get this out of the way first, yzma was a dismissive asshole to a peasant whose family was starving. and yeah, if kuzco had been in her place he definitely would've also done that, which... is why she would not be a better ruler than him. she'd just be the same because they're both horrible people in the exact same ways. her reaction to being fired is to plot murder, and as soon as his funeral is over she sets everyone to work on replacing paintings of kuzco with paintings of herself and covering the palace with imagery that makes it clear that it's all about her now. i'm not even sure why this is a discussion tbh.
and also, kuzco is literally a teenager. he's barely 18 years old. source: in the movie, yzma says at his funeral that kuzco was "taken from us so tragically on the very eve of his eighteenth birthday." she also claims in the movie to have "practically raised" him, to which kronk replies "yeah, you'd think he would've turned out better". and sure, she could be exaggerating, but what evidence do we have that she is? we learn absolutely nothing of his parents, who are never mentioned even once in the movie, or of anyone else who could've raised him, and she's his advisor who for some reason sees no problem with attending to royal duties in his place. most likely because she's his regent. also, i'm not exactly a fan of the sequel tv series "the emperor's new school" but it does have something that backs up my point: kuzco is revealed to be an orphan and just before his father went and got lost at sea, he asked yzma (who was also his advisor) to take care of kuzco if anything happened to him. so, yeah, the writers who worked on the series clearly thought that yzma genuinely did raise kuzco, and nothing in the movie contradicts this.
and i find the idea of her being his only parental figure for pretty much his whole childhood incredibly interesting because, and this also goes back into why she wouldn't be a better ruler than him--she mirrors him as a reflection of what would've become of him if he'd never met pacha. they're both incredibly arrogant, power-hungry, selfish, and cruel, with a tendency to blame their problems on everyone but themselves. yzma was even originally going to have her own reprise of kuzco's theme song "perfect world", which i really wish had been kept:
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[ID: Lyrics that read:
I'Il be the sovereign queen of the nation And the chicest chick in creation I'm the cat with all the cream and ooh-la-la This deadly concentration Will put an end to my frustration Now this perfect world begins and ends with moi
What's my name? Yzma, Yzma, Yzma Yzma (what's my name?) Yzma, Yzma (What'd you say?) Yzma (Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!) Yzma. End ID]
(this song can be fully heard in "the sweatbox", the documentary about the making of the movie, and is also on youtube btw)
anyway, i'm sure yzma would not exactly have been the most nurturing or hands-on guardian, especially given that she and kuzco don't exactly treat each other like family. but it makes a lot of sense to think that her behavior influened kuzco's throughout the years. and for the entire movie, she remains determined to kill him. when he tries to reason with her and admits that he should've been nicer, she says the same thing to him that he originally said when he fired her. she never grows or changes and in the end, she hurts the one person who was willing to stand by her (and even then, kronk had never fully been on board with her plan) and he ends up trying to crush her with a chandelier. kuzco on the other hand is able to realize the error of his ways, come to regret who he was in the past, and start taking steps toward being a better person. his theme song gets a reprise where it's changed from a song about one person being the center of the world to a Power Of Friendship song. why? because, as i've already mentioned, he has pacha.
pacha, who similarly to both yzma and kuzco is in a position of authority as the leader of the village but unlike either of them is gentle and humble. who isn't afraid to stand up to kuzco and be honest with him even though he's the emperor, who agrees to take him back to the palace but has no obligation to be so helpful, kind, and caring toward him--and just about every reason not to be--and still chooses to be anyway. pacha who is 45 years old (also stated in the sweatbox documentary) and can see that kuzco is practically still a kid, not a single day over 18, who has time to grow and change. pacha, who already has a wife and two kids with another on the way, but practically treats kuzco like one of his own. who acknowledges that if kuzco dies all his problems will be gone and then still worries about him and goes out of his way to rescue him after he wanders into the jungle. who sees kuzco shivering at night and covers him with his poncho, who carries him when he's genuinely too weak to keep walking, who refuses to give up on him even after repeatedly being betrayed by him because he believes there's good in everyone.
also, while yzma ends up repeating kuzco's harsh words of dismissal as she tells him of her plans to kill him, kuzco had previously repeated pacha's words that "nobody's that heartless" after he saved pacha's life. and as the movie progresses kuzco and pacha's relationship becomes more and more equal and is constantly contrasted by moments of yzma being cruel and unappreciative of kronk's kindness. a good example of this is how kronk is constantly being forced to carry yzma everywhere on his back while yzma literally walks all over him and steps on his hands when she gets down, whereas when pacha briefly carries kuzco after the latter collapses he tells him he'll have to walk the rest of the way later and kuzco doesn't even protest.
idk if i'm even explaining well what i'm trying to say here. but basically, if yzma actually raised kuzco and contributed to his current behavior, then she and pacha both are figures who guided him and helped him grow. only yzma helped him become the tyrant that he was at the start of the movie, who was selfish and callous and saw everyone else as beneath him. whereas pacha helped him see the value in being selfless and considerate of others. and in the end, yzma is stuck as a cat and nobody is concerned about her. kronk has found a new job that makes him genuinely happy, while kuzco has decided to build a hut on the hill next to pacha's and effectively joined his family. in the sweatbox documentary it's even mentioned that chicha and the kids were at risk of being removed from the film, but it was decided that they needed to be there because having just pacha as a single guy who lived alone wasn't interesting enough--kuzco needed to go from having basically an empty world where he had nobody to being able to come together with pacha's whole family. and i just think that's incredibly satisfying and beautiful. it also leads up to one of the few things i really do enjoy about the emperor's new school, which is the fact that during the show kuzco moves in with pacha and chicha and pretty explicitly thinks of them as basically his parents while he's like a son to them.
idk. i feel like my mind went in a million different directions while i was writing all this. but i guess i just think that for all of the praise the emperor's new groove gets for its comedy and for how hilarious yzma and kronk in particular are as a duo, the movie also has a lot of genuine heart that gets overlooked. kuzco's character growth and his unique dynamic with pacha is, for me, really what elevates the movie from just a funny movie that i like to one of my favorite disney movies. and i wish more people appreciated that aspect of it and saw it as a found family story in the same way that treasure planet, brother bear, and lilo and stitch are all found family stories.
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calisources · 2 months
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𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.
All sentences here are taken from different medias about exes with complicated feelings, exes that are still lovers, jealousy, complicated feelings and the game of chase and catch. You can change names, pronouns, locations and more as you see fit. Some of these are suggestive and others are a little foul, so beware.
Every time I thought to, I wrote about you.
Actually, I hadn’t thought of her for a long time.
Are you waiting for your lover? Do you know that's the only reason anyone comes to a place like this in the middle of the night?
Is that why you're here?
You can go pick another spot. I found this one first.
If you hadn't stolen my bride away in the night, I would not have been forced to take such drastic measures to get her back.
What do you want? An apology? For me to crawl back into your bed and play nice, little wife?
Why should I want spoiled goods returned to me?
You're gone and you left me. My heart has dissipated. The only thing I can feel is the blood rushing through my veins and the strings that hold my fragile heart together.
When you truly love someone, it doesn't go away.
I don't want to forget what we had.
Everything is moving so fast. Before long everyone we know will be scattered across the country, the world even. 
Have I lost you love?
Why would she wear a dress like that? Is she doing it just to torture me?
You need to change clothes now. Everyone is looking at you.
You don’t control what I wear or who I wear it to.
For someone who looks after hearts, you can be careless. You know you broke mine, don't you?
You can't hold on to things just because of the memories.
Yes, I made the mistake of falling in love with a man without any feelings.
You're with him?
You’ve always enjoyed people fighting for you.
The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.
I will never blame Barry for falling in love with you but I will blame him for considering himself eligible.
Don’t torture me any more, I can’t stand it.
Whatever there is between you two I don’t want to know about it.
Just shut up. I need to not to think and you need to think less. We need this.
He is in love with you. I read the fucking letters.
Where the hell have you been?
I don’t need your permission.
Oh, but I do care and you do need my permission. You’ve become very forgetful, my sweet—I’m your husband, remember? Take off your clothes.
I’m jealous, and I find the feeling not only novel, but singularly unpleasant.
Do you love her?
You pushed me away.
Do you want me then, to deceive and entrap you?
It often gives a lady a pleasure to giver her lover a pang.
You're jealous because I actually go after what I want, and I get it.
I'm afraid my jealousy is a beast I find difficult to tame.
I’m not obsessed with her.
It is possible to care about a woman without wanting to bed her.
If girls could spit venom, it'd be through their eyes.
She's a fucking rat trying to humiliate a queen...She's nothing.
That's none of your concern.
I'd like to know who's been giving rings to my council.
But just out of curiosity, how do you feel about getting my name tattooed on your forehead?
You don’t need to worry about Reece.
You are doing all of this on purpose. To get a rise out of me.
Perhaps it bothers you that I am not longer yours to keep and play with.
I chose not to follow your advice. Ned is a very nice person. Handsome, personable—a perfect escort.
Fuckin' my man in my bed. You got some goddamn nerve, girl.
I know you'd react negatively if I approached a make. You're... possessive.
Sugar, I'm way past possessive.
You like jealousy. You like knowing people want you.
I don't get jealous, I get even.
I am not yours. I stopped being yours, you have no right to keep me away from others.
It has been years since you seen me and you still behave like this.
She is my girlfriend, I can do whatever I want to her. 
You know my heart, It’s yours. But I’m done.
I want you to be in my arms again. I don’t think I can live without you.
Every day is hard and the nights are so cold without you here. 
Don’t look away. Look me in the eyes and tell me you no longer feel anything for me. That you don’t think of me. 
This is the reason I need to go away. I can’t be around someone I can never have. 
I am over you, but my heart is still under the spell of the relationship that was. I miss you.
You’re still my person, even if I’m not yours.
I have seen you give him looks and smiles this very night, such as you never give to—me.
I don’t mind you think of someone else, soon I will be the only one in your mind.
Do not worry, I will make you forget everything and everyone. 
This is your punishment, for your little trick tonight. 
You have to stop doing this. Bring me to your bed, making me want you. 
Does it bother you, the thought I will be wed soon? That a man will share my bed every night?
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lovingmattysposts · 3 months
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You don't know me 29
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pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo
summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.
warnings:
I'll call you later tonight.
Chris's words through the phone rang in my head as I stared up at my ceiling.
"Six, seven, eight....." I counted the stars across my ceiling since they weren't actual constellations. It was easier to count them over and over than to stare at my phone and wait for a call that didn't seem like it was coming.
"Twelve" I finished.
I glanced down at my phone.
11:59 pm
One minute until 'tonight' was offically over. I swallowed as I put the phone down and looked back up at my ceiling. There’s probably a reason he’s not calling you. He didn’t forget. Maybe he was busy right now. He still loves you.
"One, two..." I trailed off and sighed closing my eyes. This was ridiculous. Pathetic.
I took in a breath, my eyes still closed. The breeze from the door of my balcony being open almost felt like the one outside from Chris and I's last date. I swallowed.
He laid against the blanket and opened his arms. I smiled before I laid against his chest and his arms closed around me. I blinked up towards the sky, before seeing the stars laid out before me.
I opened my eyes. There wasn't a breeze. Chris's arms weren't around me and I wasn't looking at the stars. The sky outside was cloudy, you couldn't see them. I already checked.
I took in a breath.
"Three, four....."
My phone buzz. I sat up and grabbed my phone
from: syd
how'd brunch with your dad go? Is he mentally stable? A serect serial killer? Criminal mastermind?
I sighed as my eyes trailed up to the time.
12:01 am
I looked off to the balcony before pushing off my bed and pushing the door closed and locking it and turning back to my phone.
to: syd
it was one brunch, how would i be able to tell if he was a serial killer?
I laid back down against my pillows.
Why did he forget to call?
Chris pov
It was quiet. It was dark here. I didn't like it. It was eerie this time of night, but the last time I came during the day and stayed for hours, a groundskeeper kicked me out. Not so gracefully after I cussed him out.
I stared down at tombstone.
Amelia Rose Smith 4-23-03 -- 7-03-19 a beloved daughter, a soul too sweet for this world gone too soon.
I swallowed. I placed new flowers beside it, but they would die soon. I didn't know if it was the first time flowers were left here since I left, or if the flowers were only empty for a few days.
Her parents moved to Flordia after her death to be closer to the rest of their family, so I don't know if anyone kept up in replenishing her flowers.
I didn't blame them for moving. In times of greif, you cling to your loved ones. The only problem was when she passed, and my greif came, the only 'loved one' I wanted to cling too was the one buried six feet in the ground.
When she first passed, I didn't leave her side. Even after the funeral, her parents left before I did. I didn't say anything. I just sat there and stared at the freshly grounded dirt, until the sun came up the next morning. That freshly grounded dirt was now overgrown with grass.
My parents didn't question me, they didn't even try to pull me away when I didn't leave the funeral.
They just let me sit here.
Like I am now.
"Chris"
"Chris." My dad shook my arm. I blinked. It was real. This was really happening. I swallowed as I glanced around the room and saw everyone staring at me. All eyes on me.
"They called your name, it's time to give your dedication" My father whispered down at me. I looked up at him. I felt like a child again. Like my dad was dropping me off at kindergarten for the first time.
I wanted to shake my head and cling to his side. But this wasn't kindergarten. This was a funeral filled with people, relatives, friends, all staring at me and they knew exactly who I was.
The boy who lost his girlfriend.
I stood up from the pew and it was silent. The only sound was the clicking of my feet as the preacher moved aside so I could stand in front of the podem.
I swallowed as my eyes glanced over the casket. The closed casket. I'm glad it was closed, I didn't know how I would have reacted if I had seen her laying there, lifeless. My gut clenched and I forced my eyes to tear away from the casket.
I turned and my eyes scanned over the filled church. Some people crying. Some not. Some looked sad, some didn't.
"Um" I cleared my throat as I stared down at my piece of paper, my hands shaking so much I couldn't even read the words. I swallowed and looked up meeting the eyes of Rose's mom.
I wanted to apologize, but I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say something along the lines of "I'm sorry I couldn't save her" but I couldn't even get the words out. I looked back down.
A tear rolled down the bridge of my nose. I quickly wiped it.
"Thank you for coming today. I know it would have meant a lot to--" My voice broke. I paused closing my eyes. I was strong. I could do this. I forced the paper still.
"Amelia was---" I paused. "Rose-" I corrected myself. It didn't feel right calling her by something I never called her before today. "She was the kindest soul in the world" I whispered, but it projected anyway. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"She was the light in my day." I said. I glanced up meeting the eyes of my parents who nodded me forward. I stifened. I set the paper down and looked up at the faces of everyone.
"I've been trying to figure out how to deal with this" I said honestly. I shook my head. "I don't know how---" I swallowed. Don't cry Chris, everyone is looking at you. I stopped taking in a breath.
"The only conclusion i've been able to come to, was that she was too good for this world, so she just went on to the next" I nodded. "She went somewhere better than this place. To a place where she wasn't struggling--where she wasn't in pain and wasn't sad" The lump in my throat kept coming back up no matter how much I kept it down.
"Selfishly, I didn't want her to go. I--I wanted her to stay here with me. I've battled with myself for days over--" I closed my eyes. I couldn’t do this.
"I'm sorry" I shook my head, I hated the way everyone was looking at me. I hated the pressure. I hated the pity looks. I hated all of it.
I didn't know how to talk about this in front of a group of people that I didn't even know or Rose never even mentioned.
I grabbed the side of the podium to keep myself standing. I looked over to her parents.
"I don't know what to say" I shook my head. Rose's mother's eyes watered and she shook her head. "If I could replace myself with your daughter in that casket, I would" I said looking at her. Her eyes closed as she took in a breath.
I hung my head as tears ran down my face. "Trust me, I would" I cried. I looked up. Everyone was staring at me, this was too much.
"I'm sorry that I couldn't---That I didn't--"
Everyone was staring at me.
I pushed off the podium before walking down the aisle and rapidly wiped my face as I pushed out of the church doors.
I felt a rain drop on my face. I looked up. It wasn't raining. I pressed my hand to my face. "Fuck" I whispered. I wiped my eyes that had produced the water. I glanced down to the dirt.
"Sorry, I know you don't like when I curse" I whispered. No response. But there was one inside me, as if she were still sitting next to me now.
It's okay Chris. It's okay to feel things, sometimes it necessary.
I took in a breath.
"I don't understand why you left me. You ruined my life. I'm mad at you, I'm mad at the---dead" I whispered the last part. Was it disrespectful to be angry with the dead? I didn't know. I was. I've been angry for a while, it's just be clouded by sadness. I just hadn't noticed.
"I got a tattoo for you" I whispered. No response. I stared at the grave. "I don't know if you would have like it. You never really liked tattoos....but I just thought---" I paused. I closed my eyes. "I thought that you might have like it if it was mine" I swallowed the lump in my throat.
This was a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. I hung my head in between my legs. "God Rose. I just......" I swallowed.
"I miss you." I whispered. I wiped my nose and looked up at her gravestone. "I feel guilty" I stated. The only sounds between me and the gravestone were the sounds of crickets chirping.
"I've battled back and forth with myself over falling in love again" I whispered. I placed my head against my knee. "I'm so scared she's going to leave me like you did. You messed me up----so bad" I swallowed.
"I heard there were stages to grief" I played with the grass inbetween my fingers. "First, Sadness. Then anger" I breathed. I looked at the stone.
"It wasn't fair for the anger to hit right as I made it to Michigan. It was suppose to be a new beginning, but I did some things I’m not proud of. I was mean. You hated mean people, Rose. You wouldn't have been proud of me" I shook my head.
I wiped my eyes and let out a long breath. I turned away from the stone.
I heard the cracking of sticks behind me. I turned quickly, getting ready to stand up and fight off another groundskeeper, but I met a pair of blue eyes that looked like mine.
I sighed and relaxed.
"I thought I'd find you out here" My dad's voice rang. I didn't say anything and stared at the stone. He groaned as he went to sit down next to me. I didn't say anything, I just kept my arms around my legs and stared down.
"You know" My dad said looking over at me. "Your mother doesn't like it when she finds your bed empty at 2 am, especially after the blow up at dinner" He spoke softly. I didn't react.
It's because I hate being here. I hate being in Boston without Rose it didn't feel right, it didn't feel like Boston.
"I didn't meant to scare her" I mumbled. He shook his head. "She's just on edge about you being home. She forgets you would do this weekly" He sighed. I furrowed my eyebrows. Why is he making me feel guilty about coming to see Rose? I shouldn't have to feel guilty.
"I like it out here better. Out here someone actually listens to me" I grumped under my breath. My dad let out a sigh.
"I don't mean to come across like I don't listen to you Chris" He turned his head to look at me. I looked up at him. "Come across? You shipped me out to Michigan when it got hard for you" I spat staring at him. He closed his eyes.
"You needed a fresh start"
"I needed parents who could comfort me"
"You didn't let us" He snapped. I glared at him. He shook his head, bringing down his tone. Silence came between us. I felt a verge of guilt come up my throat.
"I didn't mean it" I whispered. He looked over at me. I felt the guilt of my own words wash over me. I shook my head. "I was angry, I was hurting--I still am-but" I swallowed. I didn't want to cry in front of him. I never wanted to.
I usually waited until everyone was out of sight before I allowed my emotions to hit me. I was not going to cry in front of him. I took in a breath trying to contain myself.
"I love you and mom, I never wanted you think that I didn't" I whispered. I felt the power of my father's gaze.
"We never thought that, even when you said it" His arm came over my shoulders. I looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "We're you're parents. Parents take everything their child says with a grain of salt" He breathed. I sighed. That didn't make me feel any better for what I said.
"Why did you come home Chris?" He asked softly. I blinked down. "You wanted me to" I stated softly. He shook his head. "That's not why you came" He breathed. I took in a breath as I looked at the grave.
He knew me too well, it hurt.
"I have to move on" I stated blankly not looking up at my dad. He just watched and listened. "For years I’ve held Rose's death with me" I shook my head looking at her name engraved in the stone.
"And I don't want to forget about it--I never want to forget about it--her." I shook my head afraid of the misconception. I swallowed. "I just want to move on from it. I want to start breathing again" I whispered.
It's true. It's why I came home. Not for my parents, not because my father wanted me to, not because I wanted to move back here---I didn't. I guess I just didn't know that until I stepped onto Boston ground. It hit me like a load of bricks, the realization.
"You're allowed to want to move on Chris, it doesn't mean you have to forget" He breathed. I didn't move as my eyes glanced over the stone.
"I met someone" I whispered. At this point I didn't know If I was talking to Rose or to my father. Neither replied.
"I think meeting her, made every emotions I've pushed down the last 3 years come up to the surface" I whispered. My father let out a breath.
"It sounds like this girl did you a favor" He stated. I swallowed, right now it didn't feel like it.
"I'm in love with her" I stated blankly before looking up at my father. Suprise crossed his face and he blinked at me. He opened his mouth and closed it. I turned away from him. I'm not crying in front of him.
"And she's nothing like Rose" I whispered. My father shifted.
"You have to stop blaming yourself for what happened to Rose and how you process it. Chris you're allowed to move on, you're allowed to fall in love, you're allowed to live" He shook his head at me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and closed my eyes finally reeling in my emotions.
I looked up at my dad. His eyes were tired. I feel like that's what I did to people. Sucked the life out of them. I saw it in his eyes, my mother's eyes, Dan's eyes, Nate's eyes. I would die If i ever saw that look in Y/n's eyes.
"What's her name?" My father spoke and I blinked almost swearing it was Rose's voice I was hearing, not my father's. I looked down at the grave.
"Y/n" I stated. He smiled. "That's a pretty name" He whispered making me smile. "Yeah" I whispered. My father shifted before he picked up the flowers set beside the grave.
"Lilies" He smiled running his hands over the flowers. "They were her favorite flowers" I explained smiling slightly as I looked at them.
"It's funny because I would always joke that her favorite flowers were lilies, because it doesn't make sense because you know her name---" My voice tore at the last word, as I stared at the stone.
And I broke.
My body tensed at the unfinished sentence and a sob came out of my throat as uncontrollable tears came pouring out of my eyes as I cried. My body curled as I cried into my hands.
"It's okay. You're gonna be okay Chris" My dad grabbed my arms and pulled me into him. I couldn't fight him. I had no strength left in my body. I shook against his arms as I cried into his chest.
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