#someone stare pensively out the window with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shankss-magnificent-ass · 2 months

Text

How OP men would react after finding out you have an aggressive stalker || Katakuri and Rob Lucci

Katakuri watched you dive into a bush as his chief of staff, Rock, entered the courtyard. He stared at you and asked, "What are you doing?" Only for you to shush him and swat at him to leave you alone.

"Ah, there you are, Katakuri. I just dropped off the list of candidates for new crew members in your office." Rock declared, approaching his superior. "I say..." He added, sniffing the air with his mousy nose, "Do I smell tuberose? Was your assistant just here?"

Katakuri eyed the bush you were hiding in to see you giving him a pleading look. The Sweet Commander sighed, "Yes, they were, but they had to deliver some paperwork to Mama for me. So they won't be back until tomorrow." The large man didn't like lying, but if it was for you, he'd do it, even though he didn't understand why you were hiding from Rock.

Rock's expression turned dour at the news, and he replied, "I see, well then I must take my leave of you, sir, I have a mountain of paperwork to attend to." The Minister of Flour's Chief of Staff gave him a quick bow, and he hurried out of the garden. Once he was out of sight, Ktakuri said, "Why are you hiding from Rock?"

You stuck your head out of the bush and grumbled, "Because anytime he's near me, he tries to smell me. It's so creepy."

"Smells you? Katakuri echoed in confusion, "Does he know he makes you uncomfortable?"

"Do you think I haven't told him to stay away from me?" You snapped as you stumbled out of the bush, "he doesn't listen and thinks I'm just playing hard to get. I've even punched him, but he just enjoyed it."

Katakuri crouched down, pulled leaves out of your hair, and hummed, "I'll look into it."

It took him two days, and quite a lot of resources, but Katakuri had a full background on Rock. The sweet commander could only read a few pages before he had to put down the report. Rock was a despicable man, and Katakuri did not want this vile man around him, let alone allow him a seat of authority. He leaned back in his office chair and sighed, he now needed to find a replacement for Rock, yet another task on his ever-growing list of things to do.

The pensive atmosphere in the Minister of Flour's office was shredded by the racket of someone scuffling up the side of the building. Katakuri got up and looked out the window to see Rock clinging to the gutter pipe by what, he could only assume, was your bedroom window and peaking in. When Rock had one foot on the pipe and one foot securely on your window sill, Katakuri watched in horror as Rock reached one hand into his trousers while peeping into the room. The sweet commander wasted no time using his mochi powers to yank the pervert backward. Rock lost balance and fell three stories to the gravel floor of the courtyard.

Rob had just returned home from a mission, the sun was shining, and a crisp sea breeze made his hair and cloak flutter around him. He took a deep breath before he spotted you in the crowd. Rob huffed in amusement, you were always so insistent about greeting him the moment he stepped off the boat. Not that he minded, it just meant he could initiate his coming home ritual sooner. Rob scooped you into a tight embrace, taking a deep lungful of your scent, pleasantly noting that he didn't smell anyone else on you. As soon as he touched you, Rob felt eyes on him, some were just the people around the two of you, but one set in particular had his hackles up. These eyes felt like they were piercing him with malicious intent.

"Welcome home," you sighed into his shoulder, eagerly hugging him back.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, looking around for the owner of such a piercing stare. You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest, and replied, "uh huh, where do you want to eat?"

"I was thinking Star Dancer," Lucci replied as he pulled away from you, "They have garden seating, and it's such a nice day, it'd be a waste to spend it inside."

You grinned at him and laughed, "You're only picking Star Dancer because they are okay with Hattori sitting with us out there."

Rob blushed and huffed, "That's not true, I know you love their food too. Plus, it's the only restaurant nice enough to take a stunning beauty, such as yourself." He kissed your knuckles and grinned at you. "So, can I take you out on a date to Star Dancer?"

You giggled, "Of course," and you allowed him to take your hand, and lead you to the restaurant. Rob tried to shake off the feeling of being watched, but it wasn't until you arrived at Star Dancer that the feeling dissipated.

When you and Rob finally got home, it was around midnight. The moment he stepped inside, Rob knew something was wrong. He could smell a stranger who had been inside. Lucci blocked you from entering and asked, "Has anyone been to the house recently? A workman, or something?" When you shook your head, he gritted his teeth and growled, "Go to the neighbor's house and ask them to call the police, I think there's been a break-in, I'm going to check it out in the meantime." He stood at the door of your home and waited until you and Hattori entered the neighbor's residence, before going in.

All the lights were off inside, but that wasn't a problem for Rob, thanks to his Zoan fruit, he could see quite well with just the pale blue moonlight flooding in from the windows. In agent mode, Rob took in his surroundings, the house was quiet and everything was still except a few of the sheer curtains fluttering in the breeze from the open window. Rob inspected said window, the lock was broken from the outside with a sharpened flathead screwdriver, that was discarded on the floor nearby. Rob sniffed the curtain, and a pungent smell filled his nose, he followed the scent trail to your bedroom, which had been ransacked. The contents of your dresser, closet, and laundry hamper had been strewn all over the room. Your bed was a mess and had a tangy sour smell emanating from it. Rob wrinkled his nose in disgust, who ever broke had made themselves far too comfortable in your home for his liking. He noted that in the heaps of clothing scattered around the room, Rob couldn't see a single undergarment.

Lucci's thoughts were disrupted by a soft clinking in the adjoined bathroom. The large man turned his attention to the door that stood ajar. His sharp ears heard someone distinctly mutter, "Come here, come to Papa, I'll wrap this cord around your pretty little neck before you even know what's happening."

Rob's skin rippled as he transformed into his Zoan form, anger causing his hackles to stand on end. He charged the door with such a force that it cracked in two. A scrawny man threw himself back with a shrill yell. The leopard man towered over him and growled, "Well, well, well, who do we have here?"

The man scuttled backward, and cried, "Don't hurt me!"

"I'd kill you here and now," Rob hissed, lifting a clawed hand that glimmered in the moonlight. "But that would make a large mess, and your blood would undoubtedly stain my tile floor."

"Your floor?... This is your house?" The man stammered.

Rob paused, wondering if this pathetic man had accidentally broken into the wrong house.

"I thought they live here alone?" The man added.

Lucci asked, "Do you mean the one whose photo hangs in the hall?" When the coward nodded, Rob sneered, "That's my partner, and you've fucked up big time."

"I've never seen you here before." The man countered, "If you really loved them, you'd never leave someone so special."

Rob grabbed the man by his collar and threw him into the bedroom. He grumbled, "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm a Cipher Pole agent. Now start cleaning while we wait for the police to show, everything better be back in the spot you found it by the time you're done." When Lucci flipped on the light, the intruder started to shriek at the sight of his Zoan form.

"Stop screaming!" Rob roared, smacking the man upside the head, causing the intruder to fall over. There on the floor, Lucci could see his favorite pair of your underwear, sticking out of this man's pants pocket. Rob could feel a vein throbbing in his temple as he yelled, "Empty your pockets!"

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #katakuri x reader #charlotte katakuri #charlotte katakuri x reader #rob lucci #rob lucci x reader #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #no beta we die like men #7/19/24

446 notes · View notes

ijustmissyouraccenths · 5 months

Text

The Alchemy

AU where Harry is the star quarterback at his college and y/n is an English major.

Based very loosely off The Alchemy by Taylor Swift

CW: Smut

Word Count: 6,871

Leaving my family to go to University was a bittersweet decision. My heart tugged at the thought of being away from them, but my passion for mastering the art of English pulled me towards my dream. My family had always been my biggest supporters and I wanted to make them proud by becoming an English professor. This meant leaving behind my comfortable life in a small suburban town in Florida to study abroad at one of the most prestigious universities. The campus was nestled in the very heart of where literary greats had once roamed and created their masterpieces. It was as if the walls exuded inspiration and creativity, urging me to chase after my dreams with even more fervor. Though I missed my family dearly, I knew that this journey would lead me to become the best version of myself and honor their unwavering support and love.

It was a whirlwind of experiences as I made my way through the unfamiliar streets. The currency conversion was a constant challenge, with every transaction feeling like a game of guesswork. And then there was the driving - on the opposite side of the road no less - which required all of my concentration to avoid any mishaps. But perhaps most daunting of all was the non-stop partying at pubs, a culture shock for someone like me who had grown up in a small town in America.

Thankfully, I was able to find a flat that was within walking distance from the school, and even luckier to have another American girl as my roommate. Mia was a sweet, bubbly girl from the middle of nowhere Kansas, embracing every aspect of British culture including the pub scene and the charming local lads.

Living with Mia meant constantly having people over, and it seemed like every night brought new faces into our home. I didn't mind too much, mostly enjoying the lively atmosphere and meeting new people. However, there were definitely some moments that tested my patience, like when one of Mia's friends named Arthur ended up getting sick and leaving his mark in our kitchen. Despite these occasional hiccups, I was grateful for this experience abroad and all the unique encounters it brought my way.

Though Mia's social butterfly nature could be trying at times, I appreciated her warm companionship in this foreign place. It was on one such night, after we had cleaned up the remnants of Arthur's ill-fated escapades, that we found ourselves cozied up with mugs of tea and watching the rain patter against the windows.

Mia was unusually pensive as she stared out into the drizzly Manchester night. "You know," she began softly, "sometimes I wonder if I'm chasing the wrong dreams. My parents wanted me to become a doctor or lawyer, something stereotypically successful, but I just wanted adventure. Now here I am, living it up in England, but it all feels...empty, like I'm still searching for meaning."

I nodded thoughtfully, sensing the vulnerability in her words. Though Mia put on a bubbly facade, there was more depth to her than met the eye.

"I think the great thing about being here is that we have time to figure it all out," I offered gently. "We're writing our own stories, not just following someone else's script."

Mia smiled, some of the spark returning to her eyes. "You're right. That's exactly why I love being here with you."

As the rain continued to drum against the windows, Mia and I sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Mia turned to me with a curious expression.

"Do you ever have doubts about your dreams, too?" Mia asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

I considered her question for a moment before responding, "All the time. Sometimes I wonder if I'm on the right path or if I'm just going through the motions."

Mia nodded understandingly, her eyes reflecting the shimmer of uncertainty. "It's scary, isn't it? The idea that we might wake up one day and realize we've been chasing a dream all along."

I placed a comforting hand on Mia's shoulder. "It is scary, but it's also part of the journey. We're allowed to question and evolve along the way."

She smiled weakly, her gaze drifting back to the rain-splattered window. "I guess that's what makes life interesting, right? The uncertainty of it all."

Our conversation was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. Mia got up to answer it, revealing a group of our friends who had decided to brave the rainy night for an impromptu gathering.

"Come in, come in!" Mia exclaimed cheerfully, ushering everyone inside. The room quickly filled with laughter and chatter as our friends settled in.

As I looked around the group, my eyes landed on a few familiar faces who have crossed paths with me several times before. Among them was Arthur, a friendly face that always brought a sense of comfort and familiarity. As everyone piled into the room, my gaze wandered to him - Harry Styles, the renowned quarterback of our school's football team. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement at being in the presence of such a well-known athlete. When I first arrived from the United States, I had assumed the term "football" referred to what we call soccer back home. But as I soon discovered, American Football was just as beloved and popular in the UK.

Harry noticed me looking his way and met my gaze. There was an intensity in his green eyes that made me quickly avert my own, focusing instead on my friend Grace who was animatedly sharing a story next to me.

I tried to tune into her words, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the handsome footballer across the room. By all accounts, Harry was cocky, brash, and a bit of a player. And yet, I couldn't deny there was something magnetic about him. He carried himself with a self-assured swagger, his athletic frame filling out his clothes in a way that betrayed his strength.

I scolded myself internally. Just because he's nice to look at doesn't change the fact that he seems like an arrogant jock. Still, when our eyes met again, I felt a flutter in my stomach I couldn't ignore.

Harry said something to his friend that made the group erupt into laughter. He flashed a crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I quickly looked away once more, but the image of his smile lingered in my mind.

Get it together, I told myself sternly. Harry is off-limits. With his reputation, getting involved would only lead to trouble. I turned my focus back to Grace, pushing all thoughts of Harry's eyes, smile and broad shoulders out of my head.

For the rest of the night, I avoided looking in Harry's direction, though I could feel his gaze on me periodically as the hours wore on. By the time people started trickling out, I felt certain I had avoided any direct interaction with the dashing footballer.

That is, until I went to lock the door behind the last guest and found him standing there. He flashed that crooked smile again as he leaned against the door frame. "See you around, Y/N," he said, holding my gaze for a moment before disappearing into the night. I stood frozen, my heart racing as I replayed those five simple words in my head.

As I stood there in shock at Harry's unexpected presence, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside me. His parting words echoed in my mind, leaving me slightly breathless and unsure of what to make of the situation. Gathering my composure, I locked the door behind him and turned to find Mia watching me with a knowing smile.

"Looks like someone caught your eye, Y/N," Mia teased, nudging me playfully. "Harry Styles, huh? Quite the charmer."

I flushed slightly at her comment, trying to brush off any implications. "Oh, come on, Mia. It's not like that," I deflected, hoping to downplay the significance of the moment.

But Mia wasn't convinced. "Sure, sure," she replied with a wink. "Just remember, not all that glitters is gold."

Her words lingered in my mind as I bid her goodnight and retreated to my room. Sitting on my bed, I couldn't shake off the image of Harry's smile or the way he had looked at me in that brief moment by the door. The conflicting thoughts swirled in my head, leaving me restless and contemplative.

The following day at school, as I made my way through the bustling halls, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the lockers up ahead. It was Harry, his usual confident demeanor on full display as he chatted with his friends. As our eyes met briefly, he flashed a grin in my direction before turning back to his conversation.

Feeling a surge of boldness, I approached him tentatively. "Hey, Harry," I greeted him, trying to keep my tone casual despite the flutter in my stomach.

"Hey there, Y/N," he responded with a smirk, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Didn't think you'd show up here again so soon."

I felt my cheeks flush at his words. Clearly he was referring to my abrupt exit last night after our brief encounter at the door. I scrambled to think of a clever response.

"Well, we do go to the same school," I pointed out, trying to keep my voice light despite the nerves I felt.

Harry chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he regarded me with amusement.

"True enough," he conceded. "But I got the sense you were trying to avoid me last night. Did I make you nervous?"

His bluntness took me aback. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Harry's eyes danced with mirth at my flustered state.

"Cat got your tongue?" He teased.

I took a steadying breath, determined not to let him get the best of me. "You wish," I retorted, hoping the bravado in my voice sounded more convincing than I felt.

Harry laughed, a rich warm sound that made my knees weak. Our eyes locked and in that moment, it was like the noisy hallway melted away and there was only the two of us.

"Feisty. I like it," he murmured. Before I could respond, the warning bell rang, snapping us both back to reality.

"See you around, Y/N," Harry said with a wink before disappearing into the swarm of students heading to class.

My body froze in place, heart thudding against my ribs as I gazed at the infamous Harry. He exuded an undeniable air of trouble, and yet, as our charged banter replayed in my mind, I couldn't deny the adrenaline pumping through my veins. With a determined stride, I made my way to class, refusing to let this boy be the cause of my tardiness.

I took a seat in my Studies of Shakespeare class, the one subject I truly loved. The works of William Shakespeare never failed to captivate me, and if you could understand the Elizabethan lingo, his witty humor shone through brilliantly. Unfortunately, this particular teacher seemed to have a talent for draining all the life and humor out of these masterpieces.

I tried to focus as the professor droned on about the themes in Romeo and Juliet, but my mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Harry. Something about our charged banter had awakened feelings in me that I didn't quite understand.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a folded piece of paper land on my desk as if taken out of a scene from a movie. I looked around furtively before opening it. In an unfamiliar scrawling handwriting it read:

"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." - H

I felt a thrill run through me and quickly tucked the note into my bag before the professor could notice. So Harry was in this class too? I scanned the room subtly until I spotted him a few rows behind me. He caught my eye and gave me a roguish wink.

I turned back to the front, trying to ignore the simmering exhilaration I felt. Over the next few days, the notes kept coming during Shakespeare class, each with a quote or two from the Bard himself. They were usually cheeky and flirtatious, hinting at some blossoming rapport between us.

I found myself anticipating each one, my heart skipping a beat when I would spot a new folded note on my desk. Our eyes would meet across the room, a hidden smile just between us.

After class one day, as I gathered my things, I sensed Harry approach my desk. "So when's our study session?" he asked nonchalantly, though there was a glint of something more in his eyes. I hesitated, knowing I should keep my distance, yet unable to deny I was intrigued.

I nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trying to appear nonchalant. "Well, I don't know... I've heard you're not the most dedicated studier," I teased, giving him a playful smile.

Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I may not look like it, but I'm quite the Shakespeare aficionado," he replied with a grin.

I raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we could arrange a study session... if you can prove your expertise," I challenged, a hint of challenge in my tone.

His grin widened, accepting the challenge. "Consider it done. How about we meet at the library tomorrow after school?" Harry suggested, his gaze unwavering.

I hesitated for a moment, the thrill of anticipation coursing through me. "Alright, it's a date then," I agreed, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Harry flashed me one last grin before disappearing into the bustling hallway. My heart raced with both nervousness and exhilaration as I packed up my belongings, eager for our upcoming study session.

The following day at the library, I found myself anxiously scanning the room for Harry. My pulse quickened when I spotted him sitting at a table in the corner, a stack of Shakespearean plays spread out in front of him.

I made my way over to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside me. "Ready to impress me with your Shakespeare knowledge?" I asked with a teasing smile as I took a seat across from him.

Harry flashed me a charming grin. "Just watch and learn," he said confidently, picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet and flipping to a random page.

As he began to recite lines from the play with passion and flair, I couldn't help but be captivated by his enthusiasm. His eyes lit up as he delved into each line, bringing the centuries-old words to life in a way that was both mesmerizing and captivating.

By the time our study session ended, I found myself completely enthralled by Harry's interpretation of Shakespeare's works. As we gathered our things to leave, he turned to me with a twinkle in his eye, he knew a lot more about the works than he let on to.

Harry turned to me, “So now that I’ve shown you i’m smart, I know Shakespeare, when are you coming to one of my games?” he asked confidently.

I was taken aback by his forward invitation. Attending one of his football games felt intimate in a way that made me nervous.

"Oh, um, I don't know..." I fumbled over my words, suddenly feeling shy.

Harry tilted his head, giving me a crooked smile. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'll even give you a personal tour of the field afterwards," he joked.

I bit my lip, considering it. There was no denying I felt drawn to him, despite trying to keep my distance. And the thought of seeing him command the field sent a little thrill through me.

"Alright, I suppose I could stop by," I finally conceded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear self-consciously.

Harry's face lit up. "Brilliant! Our next game is on Friday. I'll leave a ticket for you at will call," he said eagerly.

I nodded, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. "Okay, yeah. I’ll see you then," I replied softly.

Harry gave me a dazzling smile and I felt my knees go weak.

Friday night arrived and I found myself filled with nervous excitement as I made my way to the football stadium. I couldn't believe I had actually agreed to come watch Harry play. As I approached the ticket booth, I gave my name and they handed me the ticket Harry had left for me.

I found my seat in the packed bleachers and waited anxiously for the game to start. When the players rushed onto the field, I immediately spotted Harry's mop of curly hair. He looked focused and determined as he took his position on the field.

As the game began, I was immediately drawn in by Harry's commanding presence on the field. His movements were fluid and precise, each pass and dodge executed with passion and skill. With each successful play, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, mirroring my own excitement. It was impossible not to join in, jumping to my feet and cheering for Harry along with everyone else.

At halftime, Harry made his way over to the sidelines, sweat glistening on his forehead and tattooed arms, his chest heaving from exertion. As he scanned the crowd for familiar faces, his eyes locked onto mine and a wide grin spread across his face. He waved enthusiastically, causing my cheeks to flush as I shyly waved back in return.

In the second half of the game, Harry's presence seemed to radiate even more brightly. With each touchdown he scored, his fists pumped triumphantly in the air. The crowd roared and cheered as he ripped off his helmet and hoisted it victoriously above his head, his teammates swarming around him in celebration.

As the stadium emptied out, I stayed behind with a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I couldn't wait to see Harry once again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the locker room, his hair still damp from his post-game shower but his eyes shining with joy.

"So, what did you think?" he asked eagerly as he approached me.

"You were truly spectacular out there," I gushed earnestly. A wide grin stretched across Harry's face.

"Come on, let me give you that promised tour," he said playfully, offering me his arm. Laughing, I happily took it and followed him onto the empty field, my heart racing with excitement and admiration for the amazing athlete by my side.

Harry led me onto the empty stadium field, the night air crisp and cool against our skin. He pointed out spots on the grass where pivotal plays had happened, describing them with a passion that revealed his deep love for the game.

I found myself enthralled, leaning into him as we walked, his arm solid and warm beneath my hand. When we reached the middle of the field, he turned to face me. His eyes were soft, searching my face in the dim glow of the stadium lights.

"You know, I was afraid you wouldn't come tonight," he admitted quietly.

I tilted my head. "Why's that?"

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "You never seemed to like me much before. I figured I wasn't your type."

Heat rose to my cheeks. He wasn't wrong - I'd unfairly judged him as arrogant and cocky. But tonight had shattered those assumptions.

"I guess I realized there's more to you than meets the eye," I said softly.

Harry's smile widened. He lifted his hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My breath caught at his touch. Slowly, he leaned in. I let my eyes fall shut in anticipation...

But suddenly, the stadium lights flickered off, plunging us into darkness. We jumped apart in surprise.

Harry laughed. "Guess that's our cue to head out."

He took my hand, interlacing our fingers, and led me towards the parking lot. I walked close beside him, hyper-aware of his palm pressed against mine.

As he towered over me, Harry's eyes scanned the street, searching for a car. "Where did you park?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth.

I shifted nervously on my feet, avoiding eye contact. "Oh. Uh. I didn't drive. I just live around the street," I murmured, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The thought of navigating English roads was terrifying to me.

A warm chuckle escaped from Harry's lips as he looked back down at me. "I can drive you home, love," he offered, extending a hand towards me. His scent wafted towards me - a mix of cologne and something woodsy - and I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my stomach at his closeness.

As Harry and I walked towards his car, our hands still entwined, I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation build within me. "So, tell me more about this amazing game-winning touchdown," I teased, trying to break the silence that had fallen between us.

Harry laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced at me sideways. "Oh, you mean the one where I body-slammed the other team's runner into oblivion?" He pretended to flex his muscles playfully. "That was pretty epic, if I do say so myself."

I shook my head, feigning disbelief. "You're such a show-off," I said with a grin. "I bet you were the star of the school playground too."

Harry snorted. "Hardly. I was more of a loner growing up. Spent most of my time with my nose buried in books."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And here I thought all jocks were brain-dead."

He laughed again, his laughter echoing through the empty streets as we walked towards his car. When we finally reached it, Harry unlocked the door and gestured for me to get inside. As I slid into the passenger seat, I couldn't help but notice how perfectly he filled the driver's seat - broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and long legs. The image of him all sweaty and wet from a shower flashed through my mind, making my cheeks heat up again.

"So," Harry began as he started the engine and pulled out onto the road, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, "tell me more about yourself."

I felt myself blush even harder at his directness but decided to play along. "Well," I said slowly, thinking quickly. "I'm a huge bookworm too - Harry Potter is probably my favorite series ever."

Harry chuckled softly as he glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. "I can see why you fit right in here in England then."

We drove through the quiet streets in companionable silence for a while before Harry spoke up again. "You know, you don't have to act all tough around me," he said quietly, his eyes still on the road as he slowed down at a stoplight.

I turned to face him fully now, surprised by his words. "I wasn't trying to be tough," I said defensively. "I just didn't want you to think that... well, never mind what I didn't want you to think," I muttered under my breath.

Harry's face softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear once again - a gesture that sent shivers down my spine despite the warmth of the car interior. "It's okay," he murmured soothingly as he took my hand in his once more and squeezed gently before letting go when the light turned green again.

The rest of our drive was filled with more easy conversation punctuated by moments of awkward silence broken only by the sounds of our breathing and occasional traffic noises outside. When we finally pulled up outside my house I found myself hesitating before opening the car door knowing that this was goodbye.

Under the dim glow of the street lamp, I tentatively turned to face Harry. "Thanks for...for tonight," I stammered out, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze.

His emerald eyes twinkled mysteriously as he simply nodded and began unbuckling his seatbelt. His eyes never left mine, setting off a simmering warmth between us that was hard to ignore.

"I should probably walk you to your door," he said softly, accentuating each word with an inexplicably seductive lilt. My heart pounded in my chest as we exited the car and made our way towards my apartment.

Once at the front door, we stood facing each other in silence, the air around us thick with unspoken words and desires. I felt his strong fingers gently cradle my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. The intensity of this simple touch sent sparks racing down my spine, pooling heat in places I hadn't even known existed.

"Can I come inside?" His voice was barely a whisper but it echoed loudly in my ears.

My mind screamed caution but my body had other plans. “Yes,” I breathed out, unlocking the door and pulling him inside.

Inside, Harry's lips found mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. His tongue teased against mine, creating a warm and delicious friction that sent shivers down my legs. As he pressed his hips against me, I could feel the unmistakable hardness growing between us. Our hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, exploring new territory and seeking pleasure through every touch.

Harry's fingers made their way to the waistband of my skirt, pulling it down over my hips and letting it fall to the ground. He lifted me up onto the edge of a nearby table, spreading my legs slightly as he stood between them. The feel of his fingers brushing against my inner thigh caused me to gasp and arch my back in anticipation.

Harry pulled back abruptly,“I’m sorry,” He started, “that was really inappropriate.”

As Harry apologized, his eyes were drawn to the hint of my arousal peeking out from between my legs. His hesitation vanished as his fingers brushed against my wetness once more, this time without pulling away. He groaned in approval and leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine once more. I craved him in the worst ways.

Our tongues tangled as he pushed me back onto the table, spreading my legs further apart. His hands found their way under my shirt, skimming over my stomach before lifting it up, exposing my bra-clad breasts. He took a deep breath, inhaling my scent and trailing his fingers lightly across one tight nipple.

"Harry," I moaned, cavinginto his touch. "Please don't stop."

He smirked wickedly down at me before pulling back slightly. In one swift motion, he yanked my shirt over my head, tossing it aside carelessly. Grabbing hold of both sides of my bra, he pulled it down too with such force that my breasts were freed from their confinement.

I gasped at the sudden rush of air hitting my sensitive nipples but before I could catch my breath, he took one of them into his mouth sucking hard while pinching the other between two fingers, teasing it mercilessly.

"Fuck," I whimpered, clawing at the table underneath me as pleasure coursed through me like lightning. The intense mix of pain and pleasure sent waves of desire crashing over me as I felt myself becoming wetter with every passing second.

Sliding one hand down towards his pants, I slowly undid the button and zipper before slipping my hand inside his boxers to grip him firmly around his growing erection. He groaned into my breast at the contact sending shivers down my spine.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered hoarsely against my skin leaving a trail of saliva along my collarbone as he ran his tongue upwards caressingly .

"Yes," I breathed out between parted lips unable to form complete words due to the intensity of emotions running through me.

My heart raced as his erection throbbed in my hand. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, mixed with the desire that seemed to emanate from him. His other hand slid down my back, over my ass cheeks, and gripped them roughly, pulling me closer against his hardness.

"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? You and your little shy good girl act" he growled into my neck, nipping at the skin there softly. With one swift movement, he lifted me up onto the countertop, pushing my legs apart with his hips. His mouth trailed kisses along my jawline, down my throat, and on my breasts.

I arched my back slightly offering myself to him more fully as he took a hungry mouthful of one of my nipples into his mouth sucking on it hard while pinching the other between his fingers causing a sharp intake of breath from me which made him smile devilishly before moving on to devour the other one.

My body trembled with anticipation as he bit my neck playfully, his rough hands sliding over my hips and ass cheeks before pulling me against him. His cock twitched against my wet core, making me whimper in want. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're so fucking beautiful."

"Harry," I moaned, my voice reduced to a desperate whimper as he continued teasing me with his words and touches. "Please..."

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with our ragged breathing and the occasional moan. I could feel myself getting lost in the sensations, my body responding eagerly to his movements. His hands were everywhere, tracing over my curves and gripping me tightly as he pounded into me.

My own hands were roaming his back, digging into his flesh as I tried to hold on to something amidst the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through me. Every inch of my body felt on fire, and I couldn't get enough.

"Fuck," he grunted, his face contorting with pleasure. "You feel so good."

I whimpered in response, unable to form any coherent words as he continued to move inside me relentlessly. My whole world had narrowed down to this moment – his body against mine, the sound of our bodies coming together in a perfect rhythm.

My mind was blissfully blank as he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and more urgent. I could feel my climax building up within me, like a fire threatening to consume me whole.

And then it hit me like a tidal wave – intense and all-consuming. My back arched off the counter as I cried out his name, my body trembling with pleasure as every nerve ending exploded with ecstasy.

He followed soon after, letting out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside me. We stayed still for a moment, trying to catch our breaths and bask in the aftermath of our passion.

But eventually reality came crashing back around us. Panic started creeping up inside me as I tried to gather my thoughts and make sense of what had just happened.

As I lay there, my heart still pounding in my chest, he gently pulled out of me and straightened up. His eyes, dark with desire just moments ago, now softened with a mixture of tenderness and regret.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of our heavy breathing. "I shouldn't have let things go this far."

I sat up slowly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me – confusion, guilt, and a lingering sense of pleasure that refused to dissipate.

"It's not just your fault," I murmured, avoiding his gaze as I tried to gather my clothes around me. "I wanted this too."

He reached out a hand to touch my arm, but hesitated before making contact.

"We should talk about this," he said finally, his tone serious. "About what it means for us."

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words settling between us. What had started as a moment of passion had now morphed into something more complicated, something that demanded attention and discussion.

As we dressed in silence, the air in the room felt charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The intensity of our physical connection lingered like a ghost between us, refusing to be ignored.

We began to gather our clothes from around the room, now tainted with the evidence of our reckless choices. Harry buried his face into his shirt before pulling it on, perhaps ruminating on what just occurred, or maybe trying to drown out the reality with the lingering scent of his cologne.

"Y/n," he started after a long silence, pulling his trousers up. His voice sounded strained, an indication that he was struggling with the right choice of words. "I... I didn't mean for this to... I mean, I like spending time with you." He sighed heavily, rubbing his face between his large palms.

I remained silent as I fastened my bra. The finality in his voice was suffocating, making it harder for me to breathe with each passing moment. I felt my heart thumping loudly in my chest – a crude reminder of the complication we had willingly dived into.

"I like you, Y/N," he said finally, his voice a hoarse whisper. The words hung in the air between us, hovering like a dense fog, obscuring any clarity that might lie beyond.

I stopped fumbling with my blouse, my fingers stilled by his confession. "Harry," I began, my voice barely audible. Fear clung to me, making my words tremble.

"I know," he cut me off before I could finish what I started. "I know we're both in different places... Me with football and you with your studies." There was a tingling silence after his statement, as if he was waiting for me to confirm or deny his declaration.

I sighed heavily, tugging at the hem of my blouse, feeling the cool fabric against my still heated skin. "It's not that simple Harry," I admitted, blinking back tears that had started to sting my eyes. "This," I motioned around the room, encompassing our discarded underwear strewn haphazardly around the room - a silent testament to the passion that had just consumed us, "this complicates things."

He ran his hand through his tousled hair and nodded solemnly. "I understand," he replied, a hint of resignation etching lines onto his face. His gaze was heavy with something akin to regret as it met mine.

My breath hitched in my throat at the intensity of his stare. I wanted desperately to reach out and ease the burden that seemed to weigh heavily on him. But reality was an insidious shadow that lurked in our midst, reminding us of the impracticality of our desires.

"I think it's better if we keep our distance for now," Harry broke the silence after what felt like an eternity. His words were like cold water dousing the fire that our bodies had kindled only moments ago.

A feeling of sudden emptiness clawed at me. His words, though probably said in goodwill, felt like a punch to my gut. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

I nodded, unable to bring myself to utter a word. He stepped towards me and for a moment I thought he would pull me into his arms one last time. But he merely extended a hand that I shook lightly, the gesture felt impersonal after the intimacy we had just shared.

Without another word, he turned and left the room. I stood still in the silence that followed, the sound of his departing footsteps echoing in my ears long after he was gone.

Mia came home later that night, oblivious to the charged atmosphere that still lingered, suffocating and heavy in the air. Her chatter about an extra credit assignment she’d completed was a stark contrast to the silence that had enveloped the room just hours ago.

“Y/N, are you okay?” she asked suddenly, noticing my distant gaze. I gave her a weak smile in response before excusing myself to bed.

As I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Harry's words echoed through my mind. "I think it's better if we keep our distance for now." His voice was etched into my memory, roughened by regret and something else I couldn't quite place. His face bore an expression that told me this was as hard for him as it was for me.

The next day was a blur. My classes seemed trivial compared to the turmoil swirling in my mind. My interactions with others were mechanical and flat as if I was watching myself from outside my body.

Football practice was going on when I walked past the field on my way back from the campus library. My eyes instinctively sought out Harry among the sea of players. I found him focused on his game, every muscle in his body straining as he kicked the ball towards the goalpost.

His world seemed unchanged—still revolving around football—while mine felt like it had been knocked off its axis.

The following weeks were no easier. Everywhere I went, I could feel his presence like a phantom pain - a dull ache that refused to fade away. In every conversation, every song playing in the background, every corner of campus - Harry was there.

I knew we had made a rational decision, given our circumstances. But my heart couldn't comprehend what my mind had already accepted.

Months passed and winter set in, blanketing Manchester in white. Serene and beautiful yet so melancholy it mirrored my mood perfectly. The once familiar campus looked different under the soft glow of the snow as if to mirror the change that had occurred in my life.

One evening, as I was walking back from the library, I spotted Harry sitting alone on a bench, bundled up in a thick coat, his breath misting in the frigid air. His eyes were trained on the football field, currently blanketed by snow, and his hands were tucked into his pockets, his usual energy replaced by a pensive quietness.

I hesitated, weighing my options. We hadn't spoken since that night – the night when our worlds collided and then abruptly fell apart. But something drew me towards him – an inexplicable magnetism I had been fighting for so long.

Stepping tentatively closer, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. "Harry," I said softly, trying not to startle him.

He looked up at the sound of my voice, surprise flickering across his features before they settled into guarded neutrality. "Y/N," he responded with a curt nod, but made no move to invite me to sit.

Taking a leap of faith, I lowered myself onto the bench next to him, maintaining some distance while also bracing for the icy cold through my jeans. For several minutes we sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts as we stared out at the snowy field.

"I've missed you." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

He turned toward me then, his emerald eyes soft and searching as they met mine. His lips opened as if to say something but closed again as if reconsidering his words.

"Y/N..." His voice trailed off and there was a long pause before he continued. "I’ve missed you too."

Relief washed over me at his confession but it was quickly replaced with a gnawing sadness as I realized that missing each other wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us. Our realities were still the same - he was still the star football player with ambitions bigger than Manchester itself and I was still an English major trying to carve out a place for myself in academia.

“Do you ever think about…?” I started, swallowing hard as I tried to voice the question that had been eating at me.

“Us?” He completed my sentence, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze was heavy but he held it steady, openly showing the vulnerability he usually kept hidden beneath his star athlete facade. “All the time.”

The honesty in his confession hit me harder than I expected. We were both stuck in our respective worlds, looking at each other from afar but never truly reaching out.

I took a deep breath, feeling the biting winter air fill my lungs before exhaling slowly. “We can’t keep doing this, Harry,” I said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.

He looked at me then, his gaze filled with understanding and something else I couldn't quite place. “I know,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving mine.

The future was uncertain and full of challenges. But if there was one thing I had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that some chances are worth taking. No matter how daunting they may seem.

496 notes · View notes

with-my-calamitous-love · 4 months

Text

MY BELOVED GHOST AND ME

toya x reader

you and your complicated lover have an honest talk about the future.

angst, so so much angst, guys i was so sad when i wrote this, euphoria reference if you squint

inspired by how did it end?

to mourn someone who is still with you.

mourning someone who is not just with you. who is next to you, cradling you in the arms. he is silent, a wall of solitude. he is a magnitude of grief joined together by burnt skin and piercings. he is waves of hurt and love with nowhere to go kissing your shoulder. he is a litany of fear and resentment tightening his arms around your waist, holding you against his warm body as you stare at the window of your shitty apartment.

his name is toya todoroki. he was hurt, scarred, vengeful, and already gone. his skin that screamed for salvation proved that. and you loved him.

your eyes stare hesitantly at the window. he holds you silently against his ribs, blue eyes watching you with an unreadable stare. he was taring your world apart from the roots down, and he knew it. he felt it your bones scream against him.

"i wanna burn this city to the ground." you sigh.

and you'd honestly do it. not for you, not for anyone else but him. you'd tear the soil up from the ground, wrath building up explosions from the oceans as the waters flood the ground, drowning the suffering of humanity. you'd set everything in your sight ablaze, watching as everything burns into embers, and then nothing. and in the end you'd salt the earth behind you. nothing would dare sprout on the earth toya todoroki once loved you on.

"i know." he says.

you bring his burnt palm to your face, pressing your lips to the mourning skin. he looks at you, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. "i"m not scared of you, toya." you reassure him. hands that were known for destruction, known for the eruptions of blue flames that ravaged everything in his will. you kissed them. you'd kiss them a million times over. it was funny, how hands built for death held you so good.

he hums, his grip tightening around you. he knows you should be, that you should leave. if not out of fear, than out of hate. hate for who he his, hate for the pain that he has caused and will cause. because toya knew from the moment his marred body stared back at him in the mirror, was that he was going to go down in flames. he was going to destroy his father and everything he had done. he was going to die.

and you knew that. better than anyone.

so there you were. mourning someone who lay next to you, heart still beating, lungs still breathing.

"i'd destroy the whole world for you." you repeat.

toya looks at you, blue eyes staring intently at the way you lay in his embrace. "you're not supposed to, doll. thats my job, you're the good one." he mutters into your skin.

"i'm not as good as you think." you insist, still refusing to face your lover.

a sigh escapes his marred lips. "i know you're not perfect. but..." his fingers trace up and down the curves of your waist. "you're good for me. better."

you scoff.

"whats... whats gonna happen to us?"

you don't know what you feared more. silence, or the answer.

he paused for a moment, his hands wandering down to your thigh. his gave moved away from you as a pensive look came over his face, lips pursing as he thought of an answer. after a long moment of silence, his eyes returned to you, where his gaze belonged.

"do you really wanna know?"

"yeah, i do."

toya held your gaze for a moment, making sure his face stayed unreadable. his hand remained on your thigh, caressing your soft skin.

"this isn't gonna end well, doll. you and me.." he whispers breathlessly.

"i know." you nod solemnly.

"we're not gonna survive this. i'm not. the world... ain't gonna let us."

his actions betrayed his words, pulling you even closer to him. the look on his eyes screamed otherwise. they wanted something else, but his soul knew that his burnt hands were already out of reach.

"i figured." your voice was laced with bitterness. he wanted to protest, but what was there to argue against? he made up his mind.

"what am i to you?" you ask, eyes still gazing the emptiness of the outside world. your world laid right next to you, telling you that he wasn't going to stay.

"you're... everything." he utters, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you wince. finally turning around. you needed him to see the hurt in your eyes. and you needed to find the hurt in his.

"what... what can i do to convince you? to stay?" your voice cracked when your words reached his ears. toya paused, a part of him wanting to be his usual asshole self- teasing you into making love with your body pressed against him, the physical pleasure making him forget about his troubles for a moment. but the look in your eyes told im to stop.

he lets out the slightest sigh before speaking.

"you can't." his voice was barely above a whisper.

your eyes dropped, staring out the window again. "i figured."

he felt a twinge of guilt erupt in his chest, piercing new burns through his heart. he hated seeing you this way, hated knowing he was the one who caused it.

"i'm not gonna apologize." he muttered quietly, his grip on your chin soft yet firm as he held your face. "i'm not gonna change my mind, either..."

"i didn't expect you to." you answer, tearing his hand off of your face.

toya felt his fingers reflexively tighten before reluctantly letting you remove his hand. a flicker of frustration bloomed across his burning blue eyes. he hated how accepting you were, how understanding you were. both of you felt the tension, both souls aware of the inevitable. his jaw clenched as he thought of his mission, knowing that it would finally cause his father pain, but you bring you down with it. it killed him more than the fire, than the smoke.

"i'm not apart of your plan." you sigh. "you don't have to be here."

toya let out the slightest scoff at your words. his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you. his eyes hardened for a moment before he leaned in closer, whispering: "you think i'd choose to be anywhere else when i could be with you?"

"why do you stay here if you're just gonna die?"

"do i need a reason to stay with you, doll?"

"do you have one?"

both you and toya paused at your last question. his jaw clenched as you pressed his reasoning. he knew he couldn't tell you the truth. the truth that you were the one thing keeping him alive, the one thing that kept made staying seem like a reality. no, he couldn't tell you that. he couldn't give you hope.

"maybe, i just like being with you." he lies with a truth.

you sigh again, defeated as you lay your head on his chest like a soldier collapsing on the battle field. toya let out a low, content breath as his body welcomed you wholeheartedly in his embrace.

"so... i'm just gonna sit here.. and watch you kill yourself over some shitty revenge plan... i'm just gonna sit here and lose you..?"

toya pretends to not notice the way your voice cracks. he feels a wince of guilt at your quiet words, hating the way you suffered because of him. hated the way he could do absolutely nothing about it.

he took a deep breath before he spoke. "i didn't say you had to stay, doll... you're free to leave anytime you want." his words betrayed his feelings. he didn't want you to leave, selfishly. he rubs circles into your back, doing anything to comfort you.

"if i wanted to i would've left by now, idiot." you sigh, voice cracking once more.

he felt a familiar flicker of sadness run through his veins. this wasn't fair to you. not at all. he knew he was hurting you and he hated himself for it, more than anything else did. his grip on you tightened, calloused fingers running over your skin.

"you shouldn't stay." he muttered. "you should hate me. you should walk away and have nothing to do with me." toya tells you the truth and only the truth.

"i know." you whisper, defeated. "i really hate you right now, toya..." you cry, tightening your grip on his arm.

he feels his chest tighten as you cry. he knew he deserved your hatred, but he wished he didn't. his arm wrapped around you tighter, as if you'd disappear if he dare let you go. you had to be the one to let him go.

"i know you do, doll." he utters. "i think i hate myself too."

"good." you seethe, still holding onto him like a safety net.

he heard the anger in your voice, anger he knew all too well. he could feel the way your body trembled, the hurt and frustration locked inside of you evident. he absolutely hated himself for this. his thumb continued to trace patterns onto your back, thinking that maybe it'd take your pain away. "go ahead. scream at me, cry at me, hate me. you can do anything you want. i can take it."

but you don't scream or even yell. you just lay there, almost as lifeless as he was about to be soon. you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, nothing could possibly console you right now.

"i fucking hate you right now, toya todoroki." you cried into him.

"i know doll, i know." he feels the hurt press against his lungs, and he takes it. he takes all of the darkness that comes from you to him and eats it, swallowing it whole. he knows he deserves it.

you cry and cry, your shaking body cradled into toya's embrace. he held onto you desperately, seeing the pieces of you shattered in his arms tear him apart from the inside out. he could tell by the way your broken hands hold him that you don't want him to go.

"i want you to want me to stay." you choke, messy sobs piercing your words. you hated how he let you go, how he told you you should walk away from him. you wanted the complete opposite- you wished he'd make a god damn fool out of himself, loving you and begging you to stay. but toya knew not to waste his breath.

"its not a matter of wanting you to stay." he utters. "god, i want you to stay... more than anything." he presses his face into the skin of your shoulder, trying to feel you, trying to feel if a part of you still loved him beneath all the hate.

but its not enough for you. "no i want you to tell me to stay! dont tell me i should hate you, or-or that i should leave- i want you to fucking want me to stay! fucking love me! love me like i love you!" you rip a scream from your chest, sitting up from his embrace and staring him straight into his eyes. he needs to know how much he's hurting you.

he winced, feeling his chest clench at your words. "i do love you." his words escape from his lips.

"bullshit." you declare.

you can see on his eyes that he's taken aback by your words. if theres one thing he knew for sure, it was that he loved you. "why won't you believe me?!"

"because you're letting me just watch you fucking die!" you scream.

he stands up, the hurt from your face infecting his own.

"you think i want to die!?" he snarls, an unwanted hint of vulnerability escaping with his words. "i'm not letting you watch anything. i didn't ask you to sit around and wait for me."

he immediately regrets his words.

a look of disgust contorts your face. you stand up, facing away from him fully. your completely speechless. what could you say?

toya felt his heart strings wither as he tried to rectify the situation. "thats not what i meant." he sighs, running a finger through his hair.

you cry on your own, away from toya's prying eyes. he feels his heart clench again, knowing he's the villain here. he places a hand on your shoulder.

"doll." he whispers. "turn around"

you sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

"i can't save you. i can't convince you to stay. yet i can't... leave. i can't get on my feet and leave you. i want to, but... i just can't." you admit your defeat, not bothering to fight back as toya pulls you against him, back into bed.

"i told you you were free to leave, free to walk away and never look back. not like i don't deserve it." he reminds you, pressing a somber kiss to your head.

"i want you to hold me back." you whisper, now facing him with tears pricking your eyes. "i want you to ask me to stay. but.. but you don't."

toya said nothing. he knew you were right, that he wasn't going to ask you to stay. not when he knew it was more than he deserved.

"i hate you." you mutter. toya accepted it, nodding as he gave you a firm squeeze.

"i know you do, doll." he utters.

"no, you don't." you sob. he could never know how much this hurt for you.

"you're the worst." you half heartedly laugh through your tears, tearing a dry chuckle from toya as he agrees with you. he was the worst. the absolute scum of the earth.

"you're an asshole." you trail off. "you're a fucking bastard. and i still love you." you whisper that last part.

"you shouldn't."

"you think i want to?"

he chuckles at that. you were always right.

"after you die, i might end up burning the entire world down after all." you sigh. toya's eyes widen at this.

"you won't." he warns, his voice lower. you scoff.

"you're not in it anymore. so now i can do it." your eyes and voice alike are devoid of any happiness as you speak. and it killed him. good.

"don't say that." toya utters, this sentiment corroding him more than anything else.

"why not?"

"because... you're better than that, doll." he states firmly. you scoff again.

"i'm really not." announce.

"thats not you.. you're not a a killer, you're not cruel. you're good. you're kind. you're... you're everything i'm not." he mutters, declarative in his words as he holds you. it broke him to think you'd throw away everything like that. but then again, he was throwing away everything to.

you sob even harder. "i wanna be like you. i wanna be angry, i wanna destroy everything because of it. god, i wanna hate everyone and hate you. i wanna hate and hate and hate for the rest of my life but i can't." you run out of breath on the cant, hopelessness lingering in your throat as you spoke.

"i know..." toya utters, speechless. he felt a wince of physical pain from his body, his burnt vessel screaming at him to finally end it all.

"i love you, doll. don't you dare forget that." he challenges you, embedding it into your skin with a kiss. he made it sound like a goodbye. it was a goodbye.

"i love you too, asshole." you utter, closing your eyes against the warmth of his chest.

for the first time, ever, toya todoroki felt cold.

353 notes · View notes

evanescencelovrr · 8 days

Text

Part 4 of the college au :) enjoy! Feel free to like comment & reblog

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Just great. His voice replayed over and over in your mind. Tell y’er friend I said thank you. How you wanted to bury yourself in a pile of blankets and not come out your room. But classes continued, your human needs existed and that meant coming out briefly.

You’d seen him a few times after that throughout the week, but never said anything. He would watch you, leaning against the wall by his door, long legs shifting. He’d lean his weight onto one leg, arms crossed. His boots were worn and distressed.

Apart of you felt bad for avoiding him but you couldn’t stop your face from turning red each time you remembered the moment. You sighed, opening your door with your keys, glancing at his behind you. His door was shut.

Thank god, didn’t need to see the brute.

You sigh softly and come in, immediately hit with a blast of cold air. Of course—you caught something briefly on the news channel that a cold front was coming in as late October approached. You shuddered, hugging your bare arms close to you. You then stared at the window, approaching your desk and setting your water bottle down.

“Damn thing…” You muttered under your breath. Once again you climbed up on the old school heater, it was off. It was boxed off by wood and had slits to release heat—so standing on it was fine. You grunted, hands desperately trying to push down on the steel.

Nothing. It creaked if anything.

You groaned in frustration, pensive for a moment. You’d know you’d have to get someone to fix this.

But not your mosquito of a friend.

And that’s how you know found yourself sulking like a puppy in front of Simons door. Well, now his name was Simon. You could see the little Ghost character with his name on the door, the RA probably made that for him. A grin itched at your lip—thinking he’d seen it and left it there.

But the sulking returned once you realized you had to ask for help, so you sighed and rolled your eyes. You raised your hand to knock, hearing nothing.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” You called out.

No response.

You bit at your lip, shifting awkwardly on your feet. Maybe he was avoiding you—or maybe he wasn’t there. You decided to wrap it up, arm moving back to your side.

“What’re ya doin’?” You hear a gruff voice from behind. Hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you spun around to see the tall Brit present, moving stealthily like a ghost. You hadn’t even heard his footsteps.

Your heart rate spiked. “I-I was—“ You stammered.

Simon dragged his eyes over your form slowly, taking you in. He then tipped hair head up slightly in a “aha,” manner. His large hands fumbled for his keys, hanging off a keychain that said “Team 141,” on it. You noticed it but didn’t ask.

“I had a feelin’ you’d come crawlin’ back. Aftah’ avoidin’ me for a week.” He said, snapping you out your observation.

You moved aside when he gestured with his key, to his door, brow raised.

Almost like: You’re blocking the way, lass.

You bit the inside of your cheek and moved, crossing your arms.

“I wasn’t avoiding you…okay maybe I was. Can you blame me?” You then caved in, raising a brow at him and shoving your back to the wall. You could hear the jam of the keys as he eased it into the lock, wrist turning to open it. He then cast a sideways glance at you before resting his bag on the table, shifting. He tore his jacket off, hanging it on the hook. Underneath we wore a black button up, and his usual cargo pants.

“I don’t blame ya fer’ talkin’ bout me.” He said, lip itching to grin sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes and he found himself gazing at you, as you leaned on his doorway, shoulder leaning on the frame. Your hair traveled down. Smooth skin peaked out from under the sweater you wore.

“Figured your like Uncle Sam. You never let anyone go a day without your teasing.” You scoffed lightly, although amusement striking your eyes as you stared at him. Something in his gaze pierced you and you found yourself shifting, moving off the frame to look at your open door. A cold chill blew.

“You know my window is a piece of shit.”

“And you want me to fix it, aye? Is that wot am’ hearin’?”

Now you could hear the grin in his voice. He was practically purring like a cat at your demise. You tap your finger in irritation against your arm and released a sigh through your nose, looking at him.

“Yes. There. You heard it right. Congrats for passing your hearing test.”

Finally, after a hidden grin, he came out the room after resting his balaclava mask on the desk. He revealed his rugged fired face, eye bags under and red. Purplish even. As you gazed at him when he walked by into your room—you couldn’t help but wonder if the man slept. He looked dead. His hair was a rugged mess, as he had a low taper fade. He ought to cut it again—it was growing long, he could sense your gaze on it.

He then pushed your door open, head almost brushing the top of the door frame. Broad back tilting to sliver in. Fuck. He was tall—you thought, following after him. You barely even reached halfway at the door. Even had to tiptoe to look out the peephole.

“Ah. There she is.” He said at the window, although his eyes said otherwise. As you were behind him he took sight of your room. It was simple, some blankets piles on your bed unfolded, pillows pink. String lights hung from the ceiling, pipe to pipe. Some bobo thin scarves were used to create a little hanging nest, where your plushies rested.

“What a dungeon ya got.” He commented shamelessly, the brute man not even needing to stand on the heater to raise his arms. Muscles flexed as he pressed his hands down on the steel, immediately bringing down the window. His pants tightened around his thighs, from leaning forward, leg bumping the edge of your desk.

A huge creak was heard.

“So you were lookin’ around?” You teased, smirking behind him. You couldn’t help but also take advantage of the view as well, whilst he did too.

And the view was looking mighty damn fine.

“It just happened to be there.” He muttered, then stepped back. He left a gap in the window for air circulation, your box fan spinning loudly. He sighed and wiped his dusty hands on his pants then turned around to look at you, the light exposure behind him. His hair glowed, face shadowed giving him a rougher look.

“I’ll be seeing ya then.” He would mutter, arm brushing yours when he walked past. Again, you felt the sparks and you straightened up, turning around to face him as his back tilted again to leave. His fingers brushed your door knob.

“Get some sleep, you look dead.”

You said, which earned you a smooth baritone chuckle. The door then shut softly.

#simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writerscommunity #simon ghost riley

88 notes · View notes

privategurlsblog · 10 days

Text

Dust - A.T

Not suitable for minors. 18+

Warnings: angst. crying. piv. smut!

PLOT: without him, you’re a pile of dust

🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩

You stood at the door nervously, scratching your wrist which was a bad habit when you were feeling scared or apprehensive. You had no idea how this was going to go, you were imagining it now while staring at the bright red of his hotel door, glaring angrily back of you. It almost reminded you of hell, and he reminded you of the devil inside, ready to crush your soul.

You could hear him shuffling over, and even though his footsteps were light, each one pounded through your ears and made you wince with tension. You could barely cope, your palms sweating and you desperately wiped them down against your jeans, ignorant to the wet patch that had formed from your consistent wiping.

You heard the click of the door and your heart beats rapidly beneath your chest but then you get a sudden surge of confidence now that the space for apprehension has dissipated. Well....until he comes into view. His chocolate brown eyes stay neutral once they lay on you, stood there looking like a sheepish dog whose had a telling off. Your hands were clasped at your front now, like you were begging without even knowing it. Alex's eyes trailed from your eyes to your hands and then back again, before a little scoff left his tightened lips. He looked lazily pissed off, like even red hot anger needed to be cool and you would usually tease him, but now wasn't the time.

He didn't say another word, suddenly looking pensive as he turned and left the door swinging open behind him. You took this as a rather unwelcoming invitation, slowly making your way inside like he might shout at you to leave any minute. The tension between you both was sparkling like electricity. You were a tree and he was a bolt of lightening on the verge of electrocuting you rotten.

"How are you?" You managed, your voice quiet and cautious, wobbling with anxiety. The door clicked shut behind you and you felt the silence wash over you, waves of terror would've felt less daunting.

"Tired," he replied, and then stood next to the large window of the hotel room with a whiskey in hand, staring out solemnly to the miserable day beyond the glass.

"I can imagine....are you feeling okay? Don't push it too far-"

"There's no need to play worried girlfriend Y/N," he cut you off sharply, his voice like a whip cracking against your spine.

"Baby-"

"No, don't call me that either," he shook his head, downing his whiskey and slamming the empty glass on the bedside table. The crack of the glass against the glass sheet of the table made you jolt and you stepped back without even thinking.

"Alex, I came to apologise. I'm so sorry," you swallow, wincing at the desperation in your tone. But you knew he deserved it this time.

You'd been unfair the other night. It had started with just a little irritation towards his relationship with a soundcheck worker, and then you'd mentioned it and he'd laughed and you'd lost your shit at him. Some nasty things were said, you even threatened to end it. And then you left without even a glance back, got too drunk with work colleagues, posted a photo on your Instagram that you knew Alex would see on his burner account of you and that one lad he doesn't trust from work. It was all very juvenile and you'd acted a brat, and Alex had been ignoring you for days. He'd taken up at a hotel in the city and you only knew that because you'd pleaded with Miles to tell you. From the lack of surprise on Alex's face, you could only assume Miles told him you'd been searching.

"I don't want to hear it Y/N," Alex says, shaking his head and finger coming out to scold you with. You shrunk into yourself, practically quivering with fear though knew you deserved your punishment, "you completely overreacted to me having a conversation with someone. Not to mention the ridiculous immaturity after."

You bowed your head in shame. He was right, you knew that. You'd been so afraid to face him, you'd also left him simmering for days. It was only right for him to boil over upon seeing you there again.

"I know Alex-"

"You embarrassed me!" He cut you off again, now finally showing some emotion as his hands flailed in the air and then met yours with betrayal simmering through them, "why would you post that picture? Knowing the rumours it would cause...." He shook his head like he was still in disbelief, "I had friends messaging me wondering if we'd fucking broken up!"

"And what did you say?" Your voice comes out weak and shaky, and you're all doe eyed and sorrowed expression at Alex, who isn't for one second falling for it. You'd rarely had large falling outs but when you did it was usually fatal for your relationship. But it had never been your fault before. And with Alex's anger so strongly directed at you, you felt like your whole world was warped and you were living in a different realm.

He sighs now, looking at you with an unmoving stern expression as he crosses his arms, "I wasn't going to be so quick to announce it, so I said we hadn't."

"Announce it?" You cried, launching forward. You grabbed his arm hard and pulled him towards you, wanting to feel his familiar warmth, feel his touch all over you again. You loved Alex like you'd never loved anyone in your life and the thought of losing him felt like multiple bullets to your chest, cutting your breathing off until you were wide eyed and desperate for air.

"I can't be with you Y/N, not if that's how you're going to be every time I talk to a girl-"

"Alex, please!" You begged, nuzzling your head in his chest but he was having none of it as he pushed you off. You cried out, sobs wracking through you as he walked to the other side of the room and avoided looking at you.

You knew he was hurting just as much as you were, you could tell by the crease between his brows, the clench in his fists, the corners of his lips tensed. He was at war with himself, angry but not sure if he was angry enough to spare you for.

"You really hurt me Y/N, I can't just overlook it," he sighs, his own voice strained like this is the last conversation he wants to have.

"I know Alex, and I'm so sorry," you sobbed, trying to maintain your cries and talk to him sincerely seeing as that's what you came here to do, "I let my jealousy do the talking. I shouldn't have done any of that, I was just so angry and then you didn't take me seriously-"

"Because I think it's ridiculous that you'd think I'd ever want someone else!" He exasperates, wide eyed and irises blackened from his anger.

"I know but you're so gorgeous and everyone wants you Alex, can't you see?"

"Enough. We're over."

You let another sob fall from your lips and Alex turned away to avoid seeing you so heart broken. You knew when he was adamant about something, it was pretty much set in stone. You'd been together only for eight months, a whirlwind romance that had taken you by surprise yet you couldn't have imagined ever losing it. And as you stood there with it out of your reach, you couldn't even begin to imagine trying to walk. Talk. Even breathe. You loved him. Alex loved you just as much.

"I'm sorry Al," you blubbered and then you stalked towards the door quickly, almost automated like it was instinct to leave. Alex watched you hurry past him, trying to wipe your tears imagining the rumours that would arise if you were to be spotted leaving the famous hotel with tears rolling down your face.

"Wait," Alex stalled you and you looked to him hopefully, but the sternness of his gaze never shifted. Your hand was holding the door, just one word and you'd be gone, but you were hopeful that he would change his mind.

"You can't go out crying like that, it'll be all over the papers," he sighed, "go and sort yourself out first."

You felt like he had taken a hot iron blade and penetrated it right through your heart at that moment. And you couldn't stay now, you didn't even want to. His harshness only left you reeling more so and you didn't even think twice before swinging the door open and bowing your head. He's right of course, you'll be spotted and it'll be worldwide news that another one of Alex's conquests has been seen running from his room in tears. But in this very moment you simply don't care, you need to wallow in your bed for all eternity, revel in your misery because that's all you'll have left of him.

And that's exactly what you did for days on end. You had various missed calls from friends, even some of Alex's friends - most of all Miles who you'd actually met Alex through. But you ignored them, you had no interest in talking about him nor how you were doing. You didn't have the energy to be told to get over it, you didn't have the energy for anything other than to cry. You couldn't deny you were a state, you hadn't even had a shower since you'd last seen him. You hadn't eaten a thing. Usually you were a heavy smoker but not one cigarette had reached your lips, that would require moving from the bed you'd practically moulded into.

You're halfway through another Lana album, curled up beneath your strewn sheets, all muddled, the duvet lost in its cover and that's almost how you feel - lost in your own skin. You don't hear the door open, you don't hear the sound of Chelsea boots smacking against the wood floor. You don't even notice your door open and a slither of light illuminate a fraction of your bedroom. Your eyes are closed, there's tears falling from your eyes, running faster from the way you squeeze them shut. Your earphones are at 100 decibels, turned all the way up. You can't hear nor see anything, all your senses overwhelmed by the music. So you don't notice Alex coming in.

He sits on the bed but you're too wallowed in your misery to even notice the dip in your mattress. And you've been dreaming of his touch for days, so when it casts over your exposed calf, you don't jolt nor look up. You just think you're imagining it and it only makes you cry harder.

I hear the birds on the summer breeze, I drive fast

I am alone at midnight

Been trying hard not to get into trouble

But I, I've got a war in my mind

So I just ride

This song made you cry at the best of times. In light of your breakup, you sobbed to it in an entirely different manner. You were so immersed in the music.

It wasn't until a ring cladded finger reached over your hair and slid through it to pull your earphone free that you screamed, half choking on the sob that was leaving your lips. You scramble up until your back is against the headboard, shocked from the sudden invasion. Your hand graces over your racing heart as you catch Alex's eyes and see him sat, posture slightly hunched as he looks over at you. He looks a little worse for wear himself, his hair messy and puffy around his head, skin a sickly pale and the bags under his eyes would probably have a hard time getting through customs. And yet still he was clad in a suit, perfectly tailored to his figure which seemed to have diminished slightly even though it had only been a week since your breakup.

"A-Alex," you gasped, shocked that he was sat before you and you even pinched your wrist to convince yourself you hadn't gone completely mad and conjured him up in your mind.

"What are you listening to?" Alex hummed softly, one hand still holding your stray earbud that he'd ripped out and the other holding his knee, grasping the fabric which proves his nerves.

"Born to Die," you say. Your voice is so hoarse from the endless crying, Alex near enough winces at the rough edge to it. It's bad enough seeing you as you are, practically withering away, cheeks hollowed and your skin pale, eyes duller than he's ever seen.

But then he smiles, that dimpled, wide lipped smile where his eyes go all gooey and honey-coloured, "of course."

"What are you doing here?" You can't even look at him, seeing him looking so cute and like a dream come true makes you feel sadder than it does fill you with happiness.

Alex sighs, and he moves his hand to your ankle which he lightly rubs his thumb over, "I miss you."

You're surprised by his admission. You don't return the words. Even though you'd acted unfairly, the comment Alex had let you leave hearing had truly broken your heart. He'd been so cold, not even willing to discuss it and you felt a little apprehensive that he may brush you off so harshly. So you kept quiet, a beat of silence passing between you before he sighs again, his grip on you tightening and eyes darting away.

"I shouldn't have let you leave," he says almost inaudibly and you can tell that sentence has been plaguing his mind for days, "I was angry, and hurt."

"You....Alex you ended it," you say, barely swallowing your tears as you hugged your knees into yourself, pulling away from his touch, which made his own eyes fill with dismay.

"I'm sorry Y/N," he says, voice thick with tears, he shuffled closer to you again not willing to let you go. His hand landed on your thigh, his grip tightening upon feeling your soft supple flesh, so hot like you were burning up under his gaze and he knew the feeling - he's sweating himself.

"Baby I'm sorry," he repeats, bowing his head to rest on your legs and that's when you break, the tears start free falling, your chest heaving with breaths as Alex kisses your thigh. You engrave your fingers through his hair, holding onto him tight enough for it to sting but he doesn't pull away, instead he breathes in your scent, leaving soft kisses to your skin. Just like you, he's been a mess this past week. The comfort of having you near him again is enough for his own tears to form, a rare sight from him but you revel in the fact you're not the only heartbroken one here, even if it hurts to see him cry.

"I know I was harsh," Alex sits up suddenly, grabbing your face in his hands, his sorrow evident in the smooth chocolate brown of his irises, "I was just so angry at you. I hate the thought of people thinking....that you cheated on me.”

"But I didn't," you protest, slapping his hands away from your face, "it was only a picture. I know it was stupid but I'd never cheat. You know that."

"I can't stand that prick Y/N," Alex's voice comes out a little ragged at the mention of your co worker. You have a perfectly professional relationship with him. Nothing has happened and nothing ever would, regardless of Alex. But you won't berate him for being jealous because wasn't it your jealousy that caused this whole mess? Instead you sniffle under his gaze, feeling guilty and probably looking it too.

"I'm sorry," you muttered again, your voice thick with tears. Alex softens like butter in a hot pan, his arms coming around you. He pulls you into his lap and you sink into his arms, gripping his shirt like it's your only lifeline.

"I don't want us to end," he mutters against your cheek, sweet kisses left in the wake of his lips until they reach your ear, "ever," he says into your lobe, "take me back. Please."

You nodded, clinging onto him tighter. You weren't going to let him suffer anymore, clearly he knew he'd been harsh and after all, this was just a big misunderstanding that had escalated. But it wasn't beyond repair.

"Okay."

He hummed, and for a while you sat in his lap and he rocked you back and forth until your tears had dried. His praises and declarations of love soothed your insides, his touch eased away the physical torment of lacking it for so long.

"You need a shower," he sniffed your hair and you couldn't help but chuckle, the sound throaty, "why don't you go and have one? I'll order us some food and change the sheets."

"Are you home now?" You pleaded to know, pulling away only to look into his eyes and see the promise of his return. He nodded softly, kissing the side of your mouth.

"Yes darling, I'm home now."

With that promise, you let him let you go. Your feet padded against the floor towards the shower, and you looked at the mess of your reflection with a heavy sigh. Your hair was stuck up in every direction, your cheeks and lips swollen, eyes rimmed red from all the days of crying. You couldn't help but think you were a bit pathetic, how could he ever be scared to lose you now? Knowing what a state you'd be if he did. But then what's the point in denying that you love him? That this is what he reduces you to? If anything, the love you share is sacred to you and you couldn't have proved it more by looking this way without him.

Nevertheless, you could shower away that version of yourself now. You got in and let the water embrace you and wash away the sad remnants of your week. You lathered shower gel over your body, taking away the scent of sadness that had engulfed you. You ran your hands through your hair, smoothing away the worries that had plagued you all week long. You even shaved all over, desperate to feel fresh, to look good for the man you'd so nearly lost. You'd never ever let it happen again.

When you returned to him, Alex smiled softly from the settee. He'd finished his chores and packed away his things, and you both stuck on a movie while you waited for your food.

Everything felt okay again but the lingering pain of the week passed still hung over you both. It made your voices softer, your actions a little more hesitant, your laughs a little weaker. Alex was all over you like honey, clinging to you at every moment he could. He even prioritised you over his food today, leaving it alone while he pressed kisses to you and focused intently on everything you had to say.

By the time you were finished with the food and movie, you were both exhausted. You padded to bed and the silence engulfed you both once more as you pulled the sheets to cover you.

"Do you forgive me?" he wondered, and you nodded even though your heart still hurt. You turned and moved a leg over his waist, one hand clinging to his bicep as you moved in for a kiss, this time deeper, charged with the tension of your break up.

You felt Alex relax, his overly gentle nature dissipating as he kissed you back, his tongue slipping past your lips as he hummed in content at the feel of you again. Before long, he'd pulled you on top of him, his hands eager as they roamed over your body, pulling the straps of your slip down so he could fondle your breasts.

"Fuck I've missed your body," he spoke into your mouth, forcing your eyes open where you found him illuminated a pale blue from the moon shining through the window. He looked beautiful striked by moonlight like that, his muscles taut, the definition of his body making your blood boil with how much you wanted him.

You could feel him growing beneath you, pulling you against him and eventually his hands found the courage to pull your slip over your head, leaving you in a pair of lacy panties that his breath hitched at.

He was shirtless already, your hands traced the lines of his abs, from how he was breathing in they became apparent to you and you loved them, loved the smooth skin of his chest under your fingertips. An electric current ran through him and sparked you with desire, he was affected all the same.

He flipped you round so he was looming over you, pushing your panties down quickly. In light of the need to connect, neither of you were interested in foreplay. You were wet and he was hard, and you needed to feel each other, be inside each other. You needed that sexual connection for reassurance that you were both here, both in love and both not going anywhere.

Alex pulled his boxers down and kicked them somewhere unknown, his hardness pressing against your core making you writhe in response. You pleaded against his mouth for him, begging him to give it to you, to fuck you, please.

And then at the sounds of your pleads, he conformed, you felt him nudging at your entrance as he settled between your thighs, one hand by your head, the other holding himself as he aligned with you and eventually pushed in.

Your eyes fluttered closed and a long drawn out moan fell from his lips. The closeness was just what you had both needed, you clung to him like you were afraid he was a figment of your imagination, he held you like you might disappear from beneath him.

He moved his hips slowly at first as you adjusted to him, always finding it hard after a while due to his size. He sunk all the way inside of you, the warmth intoxicating and your blood buzzed with desire, making you flush a deep red as you moaned and clawed at his back.

His thrusts were meaningful, each one an unspoken promise of love and you were attuned to his heart, and how it craved your forgiveness. You paid him in moans, mutters of his name and he kissed you until your lips ached.

"I love you Y/N," Alex whispered softly, matching the tone of his angelic moans as a whimper fell from his lips against your own. You could see the emotion in his eyes, boring into you with an intensity that magically amplified your pleasure, your legs shifting as you moaned again. He was hitting you so deep, his movements slow, matching the pace of the moment shared between you. You could feel the shakiness of his breath as it hit your lips, his forehead resting on yours as he continued to thrust, grunting every so often.

"I need more," you managed, the tightness in your belly becoming unbearable. Alex nodded, his palms stroking down the soft skin of your thighs to hitch them around his waist, the new angle making you cry out as he sunk deeper.

"Fuck you feel amazing baby," he grunted, one of his hands held your cheek, his thumb rubbing the area as your eyes fluttered closed. The other sneaked between your thighs, finding the bundle of nerves that would get you to your peak within seconds.

"I'm sorry," Alex mumbled, you opened your eyes to find his filled with tears, "I'm sorry I left you."

"It's okay," you gasped softly, reaching your thumbs out to catch the tears rolling down his cheeks. Your arms came to rest around his neck and he let out a hearty sob that mingled with a groan as he buried his head into your neck, his movements never faltering.

"I love you," he grunted, starting to move faster, harder, his desperation and closeness proceeding the intimacy he'd been trying to hold onto. You didn't mind, with each hard thrust, the knot in your stomach grew tighter. His fingers worked hard, his hips matching the rhythm and when your name fell from his lips in a breathy moan, you lost it completely.

You cried out, hands trawling through his hair and tugging on the roots as your entire body tensed, clenching him as you reached your peak. The pleasure was as overwhelming as this whole week had been, but as it coursed through you, you felt the tension start to dissipate, the light at the end of the tunnel. You screamed and whined and thrashed and Alex leant back to watch your face contort in pleasure and your lips mouth his name repeatedly.

As you came down, his pace increased, his hands clutched your hips, fingernails digging into your skin as he hissed through gritted teeth. When your hands fell limp to your sides and your eyes glazed over, he lost it himself.

"Oh fuck, I'm coming baby," he groaned, his words elongated, shaky and soon you felt the warmth of him inside of you. He worked himself through it as his body relaxed, his weight pressing you into the mattress, hips still lightly rocking.

"Tell me you love me," he breathed into your ear, an almost silent plea to hear those words, he needed you to still want him even though you so obviously did. He needed to hear it.

"I love you Alex," you hugged him tightly to you, the sweat between you both making your bodies stick, the wetness between your thighs slipping out of the sides as he softened, staining the sheets beneath you. Neither of you cared to clean up yet, too immersed in the intimacy.

"I'll never leave you again," he promises, leaving a chaste kiss to your lips, "never."

🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤🪩🖤

A/N: under edited. enjoy x

#alex turner smut #alex turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner fanfiction #alex turner x reader #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you

38 notes · View notes

quin-ns · 1 year

Note

How you get the girl??

this one didn’t have a character with it so I picked Rafe since I need to write him more lol

takes place in like season 2 just throwing that out there for context

How You Get The Girl (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

The knock on the front door surprised you given that it was night and pouring rain. You were curled up on the couch reading, and your first reaction was to furrow your brows and peak out the window.

Except, it was dark and you couldn’t see given the angle.

You’d watched a lot of true crime shows—or at least enough to know you shouldn’t open the door for someone you didn’t know.

Because of that, you didn’t know why you did.

The words left your mouth the moment you saw your ex boyfriend on the other side.

“You’re insane.”

Rafe was standing there with no jacket, drenched and shaking in a way he tried to hide in the cold rain. The expression on his face changed from pensive to relief when he saw you.

It had been a while since you’d even seen him, it was like being in the presence of a ghost.

“Maybe,” he agreed with a small shrug. “Can I come in?”

You let out a sigh, glancing over your shoulder. You kept a firm grip on the door, keeping a barricade even though you doubted he’d slip past you. It was more of a reassurance for yourself.

Not because your parents weren’t home, but because Rafe had broken your heart.

You didn’t know if you could handle being alone with him.

Things had been going good when the two of you were dating. That is, until he left you all alone and never told you why. You’d heard some rumors about him in that time, but you never believed the darker ones.

Rafe had his problems, but Sarah and her friends running around calling him murderer was something you couldn’t bring yourself to believe.

Looking at him now, with that small, guilty smile on his face, silently asking you to indulge him even just for a moment, you found it hard to believe even the bad things you did know.

“Fine,” you finally decided, stepping back from the door and allowing him to enter.

Rafe crossed the threshold with caution, eyes on you to make sure he had your approval for every step.

“It’s been a while,” he said once you shut the door behind him.

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring him down.

“Who’s fault is that?”

Every morning you woke up wondering if you got over Rafe abandoning you, and every night you fell asleep knowing you hadn’t.

Except that realization came a little earlier tonight. You wanted to hug him and never let go. To ask him what happened, ask him why he left the way he did.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Rafe started off, knowing it was long overdue. “I’ve been wanting to come talk to you every day, but I…”

You tilted your head, silently goading him to continue.

“I’ve been too scared,” he confessed.

Shame was laced in his voice, and the look of guilt had only become more prevalent. He sighed a little and stepped closer. There was still a decent gap between where the two of you stood in your dark living room, but he seemed to take it as a good sign when you didn’t step back away from him.

“Scared?” you questioned. You didn’t mean to, but you scoffed. “Of me?”

Rafe looked away from you for a moment before pulling together the strength to look you in the eye.

“Of what you’d think of me,” he said, voice lower.

You furrowed your brows at that. Used to be he didn’t care what people would think. The only exception to that was for his dad—he only wanted to impress him. Otherwise, he was himself.

At first you wondered if Ward had anything to do with the break up, knowing he never liked you. He once told you that you distracted Rafe too much and that it wasn’t good for his son. You’d rolled your eyes at him and told him you and Rafe were staying together.

Looking at him now, hearing his words, you knew he was the only one at fault.

The only thing overcoming that unfortunate truth was your instinct to comfort Rafe. He looked so… sad. Disappointed in himself was more accurate, actually.

You stepped closer without a thought and looked up at him.

“You really hurt me, Rafe,” you confided.

“I must’ve lost my mind to leave you all alone like that. And not even telling you why…” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I just… I know what people say about me, what they think I did—“

“I never believed them,” you cut him off.

You weren’t planning on interrupting, but you wanted him to know.

Rafe swallowed and studied you for a moment. There was a flash of something in his eyes, but you couldn’t pinpoint it. You knew him so well, but sometimes he’d get a distant, unreadable look on his face that you couldn’t figure out.

“You didn’t?” he asked cautiously. You shook your head, confirming you in fact did not. “Well… thank you for that.”

“So, what? That’s why you left? You thought I’d believe some rumors over you?”

Rafe remained quiet.

“Why are you here?” you finally questioned, fighting back a glare and a frown.

“I thought maybe…” Rafe took a breath. “Maybe we could try again.”

You shouldn’t have been so surprised. You and Rafe had been madly in love, and then he practically disappeared from your life. There was a lot left unresolved, and your feelings never went away. It made sense that his didn’t either.

The part of you that still loved him wanted to accept right away, to jump in his arms and act like nothing had happened. The part of you that was still upset had something else to say.

“So, you just ditch me and think that you can come back? That everything will be okay?”

“No,” Rafe admitted, frowning at the knowledge of that. “I know it won’t be that easy. All I’m asking is if you can give me a second chance. We can take it slow, but I just”—Rafe swallowed and stepped closer—“I miss you.”

You were weak and you opened your mouth before your brain could stop you.

“I miss you too.”

You ran your hands over your arms, trying to bring yourself comfort. You watched Rafe watch you, wondering what was going on in his head.

Why now?

Why couldn’t he have come back months ago?

“It’s not that simple,” you continued.

You needed to protect yourself for now. Being vulnerable would come later, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. It was all so sudden.

“I’ll go,” Rafe said after a long moment. “I know you weren’t expecting any of this. Even if it’s long overdue.”

You struggled to find any more words, and for a moment you watched in silence as Rafe bowed his head and went to open the door.

“I’ll think about it,” you said suddenly, surprising even yourself.

He looked back at you, letting the smallest amount of hope creep into his expression.

“I’ll wait for you, whenever you’re ready,” Rafe swore. By the look in his eyes, you believed him.

When he exited, you moved to the doorway. You watched him as he walked all the way back to his truck before you finally shut the door. He gave you one last smile before you did so. When it was closed, you leaned back against the door and let out a breath you had been holding.

He broke your heart, that was undeniable, but now he wanted a chance to put it back together.

It was a chance you were willing to take.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #outer banks #obx #quin-ns writing #asks #request

276 notes · View notes

beomgyucoded · 10 months

Text

Genre: angst, and a happy ending of course

Word Count: 1,870

Warnings: I don't really think there are any, but do let me know if you think there are

Summary: a rediscovery of Beomgyu's old love letters serves as a heartbreaking reminder of your past, compelling you to confront him one last time.

a/n: the thing that he does that causes him to leave isn't described because unforgivable things are different for everyone (I also thought not saying it directly would build the anticipation and tension), so when reading you can imagine what it is that he did

** Italics mean flashback

In the heart of Seoul, South Korea, amidst the bustling city lights, there exists a quaint little café frequented by locals. The tables are crowded with young people enjoying pastries and coffee and screaming into their cell phones. Amid the chatter and bustle, in a corner away from the windows, a young pensive boy sips his routine cup of coffee and leafs through a bunch of letters he never sent—a familiar melancholy clouding his eyes. Each letter is neatly folded with sequential writing on it. There are holed-out hearts slashed across every page. They're all addressed to (Y/N). Beomgyu sighed and stared at the letters in front of him, feeling the weight of his heartache. He had written each letter intending to send them to her, pouring his heart out into them. But he knew deep down that they would never reach her and that she probably never wanted them to.

Through a window that framed another bustling city, under the foggy, light polluted New York City skies, a young girl sat transfixed at her desk, facing a romance novel but not reading it. Instead, she was thumbing through an old collection of letters addressed from her former flame who lived far away. As she passed each letter over to read the next one, loneliness consumed the room and the air around her felt suffocating. She then recalled the last time she heard his voice.

"Come back, Beomgyu. Come back to me, please," (Y/N)’s voice echoed through his phone one day, somewhat pleading, somewhat challenging, as if throwing a gauntlet at his feet.

"But, (Y/N)," Beomgyu’s voice broke, "You know I can't—"

That’s all it took for her to hang up, frustration replacing her initial uncertainty. She paced around her room, her heart racing with the sound of Beomgyu's voice still ringing in her ears. She knew that he couldn't come back to her, not now, probably not ever.

(Y/N) clutched Beomgyu’s letters in her hand, feeling the paper give way under her fingers. She stared at them as the plane hummed and the cabin filled up with excited chatter. It was hard to believe it had been a year since she had heard his voice on the phone. Her heart throbbed a mix of anticipation and dread: Anticipation that she would find him alive and well, dread that she would find out he was more of an empty shell of a person than she was.

She fingered one particular letter on top of the pile of twenty or so, tracing the puncture marks from where she had jabbed herself with a pen while reading. “I love you, (Y/N),” is how he signed them all, and her heart soared even as she felt foolish for believing him. She tapped her forehead against the airplane window tiredly before settling back into her seat.

(Y/N) landed in Seoul after a long 15 hour flight and checked into a hotel. She had no idea how to confront Beomgyu, so she decided to wait it out for a few days. Everywhere she went, it seemed like the city was calling to her with its memories of past love and warmth. She felt as though every corner of the city held an old story of when they were together here in Seoul, and wondered if these stories echoed in Beomgyu’s mind as well.

One evening, as he sat in the same café where he always went to escape from the world, he noticed a familiar figure walking down the street. It was (Y/N), her hair blowing softly in the breeze, and her eyes scanning the street as if searching for someone.

Beomgyu quickly got up and pushed his way through the door, making sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. His silhouette cut through the crisp midnight air and (Y/N) took a deep breath as she stepped closer, her hands trembling around his letters.

"Beomgyu..." Her voice quavered, desperation seeping through in waves.

His silence was deafening in the frozen winter night, making the words feel heavier on her tongue.

“These letters... do they mean anything to you?" She asked him, not wanting to waste any time.

Beomgyu remained solemn as he met her gaze, his eyes filled with shame and regret that pierced the fragile armor around her heart. (Y/N) could feel a chill run down her spine as she was overwhelmed by his remorse.

"Do you still love me?" She dared to ask, despite everything.

Beomgyu's voice was softer than the snowflakes falling around them, "More than you can imagine," He answered immediately.

Tears pooled in her eyes as memories of the old hurt resurfaced. She felt so small, so foolish for believing in his hollow assurances of love. Beomgyu, the one who made her heart soar and plunge, the one who claimed to adore her— yet was also the one to destroy her belief in happily ever after.

“I’m sorry.” he began.

But words no longer held any meaning to her. She turned away from him, clutching the letters close to her heart. His love and empty promises were etched into them, filled with sweet words and claims that he would never leave.

She turned back to face him, her eyes pleading, searching his face for any sort of answer that she feared he couldn't provide with words.

"Why did you leave me, Beomgyu? You promised you wouldn’t," Her voice cracked, her heart breaking anew at the thought of him walking away from her for a second time.

Beomgyu's eyes softened as he reached out to take her hand, she flinched at his touch.

"It was never my intention to leave you, (Y/N). Circumstances outside of my control forced me to go, but I never stopped loving you. I wrote these letters to remind you of that," he said and pulled out a whole new stack of letters.

(Y/N) drew her hand away gently, shaking her head in disbelief.

"But you never sent them," she whispered sadly.

"All those words of love and apology, and you couldn't send them to me?"

Beomgyu hung his head, feeling the weight of his cowardice.

"I was scared," he admitted.

(Y/N) felt a tug at her heartstrings as the words spilled out of his mouth. She was both relieved and anxious - relief that he had been afraid too, it wasn’t just her this time, but fear that things would still be different than she wanted them to be. People seemed to always leave in the end, leading her to believe that there was something wrong with her, like she had some sort of special power that pushed people away. It took many years for (Y/N) to realize that not everything was her fault and that she should save her love for people who truly deserved it.

She met Beomgyu during her journey of self-love, the boy captivating her heart before either of them realized just how much they would mean to each other. He showed up in her life right when she needed someone like him. He was gentle and caring, the type of person who remembered every little detail about those close to him. He was the anchor that grounded her when things got too chaotic and she couldn’t focus on anything else. She was the one to reassure him when he had any doubts and encouraged him to be true to himself always. Every time they were together, it felt like coming home - like there was no other place safer than in each other’s embrace.

They had shared many beautiful moments together, writing love letters to each other as a way to stamp the feelings they had in time (and because they were both hopeless romantics). (Y/N) felt like she found her person, the boy of her dreams, the one who truly loved and appreciated her. She gave him a piece of her heart that he promised to treasure forever. Beomgyu felt like he found the one, someone who loved and appreciated all of him. Someone who wasn’t just with him for his looks. Someone he pictured forever with. But then life got complicated and Beomgyu had to make the hardest decision of his life, one which would tear them apart all because of how he chose to handle it.

"I know I don't deserve it, but I'm begging you, (Y/N), please give me another chance," he pleaded breaking the silence, his eyes almost desperate.

“You’re my person."

(Y/N) looked at him, her heart heavy with emotion. She wanted to scream, to lash out at him for hurting her so deeply, but she couldn't find the words. Instead she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened between them. She remembered the countless nights spent crying herself to sleep, the unanswered calls and messages, the desperate pleas for him to come back. It was a wound that refused to heal, no matter how much time had passed.

Beomgyu watched her silently, his heart racing with anticipation and fear. He knew that this was his last chance, that if he messed this up, he would lose her forever. He dug his fingers into his pockets, trying to find the right words to say. The silence between them was deafening, the snowflakes falling around them like a shroud of white noise.

"I'm not asking you to forget everything that happened between us," he said softly, unable to bear her silence.

"I know that what I did was unforgivable, that I hurt you in ways that words can't describe. But I'm begging you to give me a chance to make things right, to prove to you that I'm still the same person you fell in love with."

(Y/N) remained silent for a moment, contemplating his words. She looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. A part of her wanted to take a chance on him again. But the other part of her was afraid, afraid of getting hurt again. She sighed, finally admitting to herself that she was still very much in love with him and that she always will be, because to her, he was the embodiment of love. He was her dream come to life and everything she could ever ask for in a person. Being apart from him hurt more than what he did.

"Okay," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Beomgyu's eyes widened in disbelief, his heart racing with hope.

"Okay?" he repeated, just to make sure he heard correctly.

He couldn't believe it, she was giving him another chance. He stepped forward, his hand outstretched, hoping that she would take it.

"Thank you," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

(Y/N) looked at his hand and then back at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She hesitated for a moment before finally taking his hand in hers. Their fingers intertwined and it felt like the most natural thing in the world, every line on their palms lining up with each other, and her hand fitting perfectly in his.

Life was not the fairytale they pictured together, but they still got their happily ever after.

Main Masterlist

Beomgyu Masterlist

a/n: Are we surprised that I’ve written yet another Beomgyu fic? Thank you for reading nonetheless! This was my first attempt at writing any sort of angst so comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

#✎˖ᝰbeomgyucoded✧˖°#choi beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu imagines #txt beomgyu #txt drabbles #txt x reader #beomgyu drabbles #beomgyu #beomgyu angst #beomgyu fluff #txt fluff #txt angst #⇢ ˗ˏˋ beomgyu 🧸 ࿐ྂ

128 notes · View notes

veryace-ficrecs · 10 months

Text

Percy jackson fic recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

In a Field of Dandelions by mrthology - Rated T

"You okay there?" she asked once she was closer, smiling in what she hoped was a welcoming manner. The man smiled back, still looking a bit confused. Nicky's breath caught in her chest when he met her eyes. His gaze was a little too vivid, his bone structure a little too perfect. He seemed a little too much more than human. Part of her wanted to run, while another part wanted to follow him to the ends of the earth and beyond. "I think so," he replied, breaking the spell. "Just trying to figure out day one, I suppose. I'm Percy!" ----- Percy and Annabeth's eldest child starts school. Percy inadvertently causes a bit of a stir, and Annabeth isn't jealous, not at all.

good does not equal Goode by vani_em - Rated G

One thing was clear: Percy Jackson was not Goode High School material.

The Overwhelming Specter of Your Mothers Book Club by 60sec400 - Not Rated

Martha Blofis stared at her son in shock. “What do you mean,” she said slowly, “that you’re married?” Her son fidgeted nervously. First, he ran a hand through his peppered hair, and then his eyes flickered down and away. Then he lifted them again and smiled meekly at her. “Paul,” she said, “I need you to tell me what in gods name you were thinking.” “Her name is Sally Jackson?” Paul said, his voice lifting as he weren’t quite sure what the name of his wife was. AKA Paul tells his mother he hasn't seen in four years that he's married. Really, the only thing she can think about is what she's going to tell her boook club.

Good Enough for Someone by bouquetofwhoopsiedaisies - Rated T

Paul was quiet for a minute on the other side of the bathroom door. Percy expected him to walk away, but he didn’t. “Percy?” There was something in his voice that Percy couldn’t identify. Something like concern, mixed with something like fear… something that let Percy know he had truly and royally fucked up. He felt hyper-aware of every sound, from the dripping of the facet to the shifting weight of the person outside the door, his mind spinning as he tried to map Paul’s position like he was in battle. He heard the tiny, barely perceivable sound of fingertips brushing the doorknob, and it made him want to throw himself out the window and flee to the fire escape. Especially at Paul’s next words: “Can I open the door?” Percy bit his already-split lip, not even caring at the pain the action brought. He stared up at the fluorescent light above him. He scrubbed at his eyes, ignoring the dull flare of pain from the bruise there. He didn’t realize he was crying until the salt stung his wounds. “Percy?” Paul called his name again. “Yeah,” Percy sucked in a deep breath, even as a broken rib made his chest feel tight. “I… I guess I could use some help."

Stars on the Water by liketolaugh - Rated T

"I dunno, I just think it would make a lot of things easier for a lot of people," Percy said to Thalia, when she just stared at him. His cheek rested in his hand, a rare pensive look leaving his eyes distant and unfocused. "Mom has Paul now, so it’ll be easier on her if she doesn’t have to worry about me mucking things up. Dad won’t have to keep threatening war every time Zeus gets his toga twisted. The prophecy’s done, so I won’t be bringing it down on Nico. And no one will have to worry about me blowing up another volcano."

Oh Sugar Sugar by mrthology - Rated T

After the Titan War Percy starts feeling under the weather - he’s always tired, losing weight he doesn't have to lose, is constantly freezing, and just generally feeling lousy. But he’s kidnapped by Hera before he can see a doctor like his mom wants. Then there’s the Quest to Alaska, sailing to the Ancient Lands, falling into Tartarus, fighting the Giants in Athens, fighting Gaea herself… Needless to say, he had too much on his mind to notice a few annoying symptoms that can mostly be ignored. It turns out Type-1 Diabetes can be incredibly dangerous, especially when you don’t know you have it in the first place. Now three chapters, and featuring a much needed Percy and Nico heart to heart.

Red Ink Checkmarks by liketolaugh - Rated T

Paul joins their family a year and a half after Smelly Gabe leaves it. Percy, to his own irritation, is still sensitive about a lot of things at that point.

he ain't heavy, he's my brother by mrthology - Rated G

Percy doesn’t get migraines very often, thank the Gods, but when he does they tend to knock him on his ass for days, regardless of drugs, ocean water, sleep, ambrosia, or anything else he’d tried. He just had to wait (suffer) it out. It was just his luck that his first migraine in literally years would hit when he was visiting his father in Atlantis for the first time after the war with Gaea. And instead of waking up with one and being able to hide in his rooms, he’d have to collapse in public, right after talking to his half brother Triton. If it didn’t hurt so damn much he’d be embarrassed.

To Sir, With Love by writergirl8 - Rated T

"Here's how the game works: Because I'm one of the lucky teachers that gets to have you from seventh grade to twelfth grade, I get to watch all you grow up. When I toss this ball in your direction, I want you to say your name, your favorite color, and what you hope to accomplish in the next six years of your life."

We Hitch an Awesome Ride by ariadnes_string - Rated G

Percy and his friends get a lift from some guys who might know as much about monsters as they do.

Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated At School by lammermoorian - Rated T

...And One Time Someone Cheated Him The story of how Percy chooses a major, gets a family, and accidentally becomes a superstar in the world of classical studies. Turns out, being able to read ancient Greek and instinctively knowing how to sail every ship ever invented is actually pretty useful in some fields.

percy jackson and the scrutiny of his coworkers by pqrker - Rated G

Jim turned back to the tank and looked at Marcie the seal, who was now staring at the spot his coworker had been standing just moments before with that same strange look of reverence in her eyes. Percy Jackson truly was the oddest person Jim Elpool had ever worked with. or 5 times percy's coworkers were confounded by his fish magic, plus 1 time they try to figure it out

The Boyfriend by Roselightfairy - Rated G

The cliche: Annabeth's private-school friend finds out that Annabeth has a boyfriend. The twist: This mortal already knows Percy Jackson, from long ago.

Not So Shore by bananannabeth - Rated G

Percy Jackson just transferred to AHS on a swimming scholarship, and Olivia is convinced that there's something weird about him. In order to get to the bottom of it, she decides to befriend him and his girlfriend, Annabeth, and drags her best friend Kelly along for the ride.

Gratuity At Twenty Percent by inkncoffee - Rated T

Amphitrite was no fool and she wouldn't be played for one. Not even by the lord of the sea himself. When Poseidon starts disappearing at night, Amphitrite investigates. She's not entirely sure if what she finds is better or worse than what she expected.

Deprivation by inkncoffee - Rated G

"Percy are you drunk?" Poseidon asked with a frown Or in which Percy hasn't slept in 72 hours and is surviving solely on Red Bull and blue M&Ms when Poseidon comes calling. Which is probably important, but Percy's brain stopped working twenty hours and seven Red Bulls ago so.

I hear babies cry by Eat0crow - Rated T

Percy's not adjusting well after the war. No matter what he tries, Camp Half-Blood just feels wrong. So, he decides to take off. Nico goes along for the ride.

Big Black Jelly Beans by Darkanny - Not Rated

Percy glared at him, pouting. He looked back at his dog as she chased after a bee. She was kinda bigger, he had to admit, but that didn’t mean anything, right? Granted, he didn’t really know where she went to most of the time, what with her shadow-travelling all the time. But when she was around he was very careful on feeding her healthy stuff…or the healthiest part of what was left on his plate anyway. She was not fat.

"the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room" by r1ptides - Rated G

“all I could think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room”

the jackson files by Ideasofmarch - Not Rated

Summary

Makin’ pancakes @makinbaconpancakes Does anyone know who the fuck Percy Jackson is??? Oranges are spicy @ronaldmcd Whomst? Makin’ pancakes @makinbaconpancakes Check rachel dares insta story Oranges are spicy @ronaldmcd k Oranges are spicy @ronaldmcd Okay somebody find out who this kid is right damn now. - Rachel Elizabeth Dare posts a video of Percy on her instagram story. it all just spirals from there.

family tree by r1ptides - Rated G

it's a goode tradition for freshmen to make a family tree for english class. percy struggles.

Please insert your (sand) dollar here by Sugarplume02 - Rated G

Percy just wants to pay for his Chips Ahoy with the sea dollar he got from his dad. Too bad it doesn't fit in vending machines.

The guy in line behind him just wants to pay for his Cheez-its.

The Problem With Field Trips by HopeLions13 - Rated T

Percy just knows things are going to go wrong when his eighth grade class takes a field trip to a dude ranch. They always do. OR How Percy got expelled from MS-54.

#veryace recs #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #percy jackon and the olympians #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

105 notes · View notes

black-is-iconic · 3 months

Text

Sweet Sweet Apathy

"Are you going to save my brother?" Those words gave you pause and made your stomach twist uncomfortably. "Um" you muttered scratching your cheek as you gaze down at the boys heterochromia eyes, "I'll certainly try" the words felt….wrong on your tongue.

You always tried to stray away from saying something along the lines of, yeah I'll save them guaranteed don't worry because that's not always the case.

There's been at least five people, so lost and twisted in their own minds that your words weren't able to pierce the protective barrier they built up, and as a result….they died….and the families were left grieving and heartbroken.

But the media never put a spotlight on that, no doctor miracle or whatever they call you's fuck ups are always carefully hidden under wraps and swept under the rug.

"You seem tense" Ms. Rei Himura spoke softly brown eyes gazing at you so gently yet her smile was strained with worry.

"I know I should be used to it, but the weight of someone's life in my hands always just" the words die on your tongue as a cold chill slips down your spine and you gaze off into nothingness with a pensive stare. "…makes things harder"

Ms. Himura says softly her voice full of sympathy, "but you will bring him back to us, right? You're Doctor Divine saving people on death row is like your whole stick" one of her children…Fuyumi asked hands balled into tightly clenched fist.

"I know he was a criminal" she spoke rubbing her arm anxiously, "a-a pretty bad one….but he just got mixed in with the wrong crowd…..that's all…..somewhere under all that loathing and hurt….is Toya" her voice cracked under the weight of her tears as she gently clung to the coat of your jacket

. "S-So please save him" she asked staring up at you expectantly. The tears spilling down her precious pale cheeks plucked at the strings of your heart, your anxiety sky rocketed and your hands trembled in your pockets.

They all looked at you with hopeful gazes, and it hurt that you couldn't give them a clear concrete answer, "you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink, I can only fix what he allows me to" you whispered grimly but truthfully.

Eyes downcast so you wouldn't have to see their faces, "but I'll certainly try" said hopefully with a little more conviction.

"I will try my hardest to bring your brother back, but nothings guaranteed" the Todorki family looked a bit glum but Rei smiled exhaling deeply "yeah that's fair".

With the more pressing matters out of the way you let out a deep breath of relief as Enji Todorki drove you to where you'd be living for the next two years where you would try and fix the damage he caused, the drive was silent.

Not a word spoken, only thick silence filled the air, and the only thing filling your ears was the heavy hum of the car engine, the screech of wheels against the pavement, and the sound of your own breathing. As the car slowed, stopping in front of a lavish condo complex you swallowed nervously again.

Somehow word got out about that the famous Doctor Divine would be making an appearance, and so the side walk was flooded with people clamoring against each other to get a glance at you or maybe even a chance to speak with you, flashes from cameras overwhelmed you and you slunk deeper into your seat.

As the door was opened by an attendant the light came poor in and the sound of a thousand voices morphed into one loud cacophony. It was impossible to tell who the voice belonged to, and it made it hard to focus with so much noise competing for your attention.

Your eyes stayed glue to the floor as you walked towards the condo, trying to tune out all the citizens calling for you, as you reached the condo you breathe a sigh of relief as the noise became muffled behind closed doors.

Resting your hand on your chest, you took in your surroundings. The lobby was lavish, a modern sleek look with rich black carpet, and large mahogany desk set, white walls, and glass windows that overlooked Musutafu.

A gentle touch to your shoulder spooked you from your thoughts, your hands instantly latching onto the wrist person who startled you and glared at the perpetrator. "Sorry Doc" a charming voice chimed in and your eyes squinted, a handsome young man stood before you grinning widely.

"I suggest you keep your hands to yourself" you murmur before letting his wrist go, "sorry sorry I just wanted to introduce myself, you can call me Hawks"

His eyes like golden embers stared deep into your irises and you averted your gaze "and why are you here hawks" you asked skeptically readjusting your coat the man smirked down at you "well I'm going to be your body guard for the next two years - starting now" he said with a cheerful smile.

You sighed heavily at the thought of being tailed for two years but you simply nodded "okay" you said smacking your lips and turning to reach for your things, "oh no let me" Hawks said snatching all of your bags and walking towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" You asked confused throwing a thumb at the clearly empty and available elevator Hawks simply smiled and shrugged "oh you're staying in the pent house, and the elevators slow give me a sec and I'll be back for you gorgeous",

He clucked his tongue and winked at you before flying off you huffed already exasperated.

Deciding to take the elevator, you walked inside through the glass doors and pressed the p button as the elevator slowly ascended you pulled out your phone scrolling through text tomorrowwould be a day

#black reader #dabi x reader #hawks x reader

23 notes · View notes

mulders-too-large-shirt · 17 days

Text

s4 episode 5 thoughts

i’m back. i’m back and i’m intrigued. because i'm reading the episode description, and if we get more mulder ex lore here, which the episode description makes it sound like we will, i am… not sure how i will feel on the subject. the term “reincarnation” makes it sound like whoever it was… died. did an ex of his die? and that is a lot of mulder marked by pain and suffering. and maybe i’m getting ahead of myself. but the writers KNOW we want our agents to smooch, so focusing on an ex might make me, the viewer, feel weird. i just need to get all these thoughts out in writing before we begin.

how is he gonna tell if someone is a reincarnated lover? or am i misunderstanding this entirely.

only one way to find out

author’s note: oh my gosh…… nothing could have prepared me for this. at all. here i was thinking it was ex lore time, but it was past life time, and there are TEARS in my eyes.

(serious author's note: i ask for some grace in this episode recap. there may be some things i word poorly. i am familiar with the terminology used to describe DID, and did my best, but acknowledge that i may have come up short. please understand that this is intended to capture my live reactions to what i was seeing for the very first time. at times here, there are no reactions, just a sort of a nebulous recapping of what i saw because i was feeling So Many Things. so this one might be messy, and i hope that is okay. i don't understand what i am feeling, but i am feeling a Lot of it, and humbly ask for your patience in my clumsy wording as well as some helpful discussion on what just went down)

let us begin, i type as i sniff up some tears

we open with mulder in a field… is he reciting poetry? and looking very sad.

wait, is he not actually reciting poetry and he just talks like that? while holding two pictures of old timey people. i’d guess civil war era.

okay. so now we jump right to the intro. that was quick. i’m still processing what we just saw because we were really dropped into that one with no context whatsoever.

federal agents break into a temple in tennessee. they’re looking for illegal firearms! and a guy named ephesian.

but mulder sees a window… and he is staring at it… walking out the door as if led by some sort of spiritual quest while scully yells his name and wonders wtf he’s doing. he is not responding to her at all, but she’s chasing after him because she is a good friend.

so he’s hearing things while scully is pulling her gun out, and it does appear that he found a trapdoor!

he busts in, and slaps some poison out of the hand of a woman who was taking sips, and then grabs the dude who i assume is the cult leader. whew… that was close

now they’re at some sort of meeting, listening to tapes, and skinner is here!!! hiiii skinner. everybody say hi skinner!

so, someone on the tape seems to be whistleblowing on this cult- the seven stars or something- saying that the leader is hurting children and stockpiling weapons. mulder looks incredibly pensive during all of this.

oh! someone refers to mulder as “our man spooky”, which is kind of hilarious, while complaining that the reports were weak. scully leans in and asks yeah, how did he know that? while the men are fighting.

and skinner yells KNOCK IT OFF!!!! because the folks at the compound were somehow able to hide all the evidence before they got there, and now they’re forced to hold ephesian and “his wives” on “BS charges”. so now the agents MUST find evidence of firearms and who the informant was NOW because they will try to get an arraignment fast.

woah. no pressure.

skinner comes over talk to mulder and scully- they must look into this ephesian fellow's claims of supernatural abilities. scully says he can use the book of revelations to manipulate his followers, but seems to suspect no real powers.

they to talk to this ephesian fellow, who says he knew for 9 centuries that scully was coming, and starts going on about the bible, quoting stuff. very scary behavior.

mulder comes in with the fact check. jesus said that at smyrna, not about some church in tennessee! (his knowledge…. it always impresses me)

this dude is being super creepy, telling them to put aside their investigation “for your own souls”, because soon all unfaithful shall “be destroyed by God’s mighty men”. so this is some pretty standard cult rhetoric here. if you've studied religions, you've heard this one many times. it seems that ephesian thinks he and his people shall be the ones doing this violence. a tight zoom in on mulder’s troubled face as he quotes more scripture.

they have 6 wives to question, and mulder says to start with one in particular. interesting… i wonder why that one. is it because she was the one they caught ephesian with in the hidden area... or something more?

her name is melissa, and she says she’s 25 as she smokes a cigarette and dodges their questions. she’s been at the compound and married to ephesian for a year.

mulder asks if it troubles her that ephesian has so many other wives, and she just recites scripture instead of answering. so scully comes in with the “i’d have a tough time if my husband had so many children with other women”. this seems to begin to get her to crack, as she tears up.

wait... it’s so wrong to hear scully call someone else, who isn't her sister, melissa :(

melissa she doesn’t have any children with ephesian yet... because he has to wait for God to tell him that the right soul is ready to be reincarnated, which is why his children are the most sacred members of the temple. naturally, of course /s

things get quiet when they ask if he had been hurting the children until melissa starts talking with a very different voice and set of mannerisms, and she no longer replies to the name melissa. so scully scrawls “multiple personality” in her loopy handwriting and passes it over to mulder. oh! is this sydney?

(at this point, i shall begin to refer to sydney with he/him pronouns, as this is what mulder does. normally i would stick to my journalistic integrity and keep reporting the things i wrote down incorrectly while watching the episode, but i'm trying to be very respectful- i hope you understand)

but mulder writes back to scully no, this is not a multiple personality case, it's a past life case! his handwriting is very blocky. to prove his point, he asks sydney who the current president is, and he responds that it is harry truman. ah. so, he's a few years off.

mulder claims that “somehow he just knew” sydney was melissa's past life, which doesn’t reveal a lot, but his eyes are very soulful and i want to hold his hand.

skinner says they need to find something to get this case moving forward, and mulder is like dude, we found sydney, the voice matched! i would agree with his judgement that this in fact a sizeable discovery.

mulder is saying that what they have seen matches the criteria of DID in the DSM4 (woah, need to look up when we switched to 5), but scully is saying that some people don’t even think it exists as a condition, and skinner thinks it could be a trap to buy more time for ephesian. so no one is in agreement here.

but mulder is going into his psychology expert mode and is making a very compelling case that this is an example of DID, particularly in the fact that sydney emerged when the topic of child abuse came up, which fulfilled the protector role. scully wants to know more before giving any sort of diagnosis, but she doesn't seem opposed to the hypothesis.

(skinner seems to fumble over which pronouns to use for each personality here)

skinner says to go ahead and take her back to the compound and see if it gets any results in prompting memories that could be useful to the investigation, but scully is mad at mulder! he didn’t even have the courage to tell skinner he thinks they're dealing with past lives here! mulder, who is usually so brave!!

he mumbles that skinner wouldn’t believe him. which is true.

woah, i don’t know how to interpret this line here, so i’ll just write it down for further analysis:

“i don’t believe that you feel responsible for those 50 lives. or melissa reidel. you are only responsible to yourself, mulder”

(is she saying he doesn’t care about those 50 people?? is she saying he has an ulterior motive? is she calling him a liar, and that he is using this case to gain support for his supernatural ideas?? is she calling him selfish? or is she trying to tell him that he can only be responsible for himself and control his own actions, that he cannot place the burden of saving everyone upon his shoulders? is she berating or reassuring him or both? does she think he isn't serious about the lives in danger?)

i can’t figure it out, but he gets up and leaves. (after watching the episode, i still can't figure it out- what did you think?)

so they take melissa back to the temple, and scully asks her to recall the painful memories so they can keep herself and others safe. it is very tense as she walks into a bedroom and sees many photos on the wall of ephesian and his wives. she knocks some of them over and starts crying.

scully still looks furious with mulder. it's as if she thinks his desire for supernatural entities to be proven comes ahead of his desire to save actual lives, and it's recalling her comparison to ahab during the conversation on the rock. she must feel that there is no time for this, that they need to get concrete answers right away or horrible things will happen; perhaps she thinks he isn't focused, is being fanciful. and i understand the pressure of a ticking clock, but after so long, this rift between them, it doesn't feel right.

oh my goodness, we see some horrific artwork on the wall by the kids at the temple. woah. shoutout to the set design team.

melissa is in the playroom sobbing, but asks why she is being called melissa. scully asks what she should call her, and that is how we meet lily. but lily isn’t there for very long before sydney comes back, saying to “leave the kid alone”. mulder says they can all be safe if they just are told where the guns are. then melissa seems to come back, and she goes back out the window where mulder was staring earlier!!! what does this window know?!?

and the score here is really pretty as she walks outside, scully following behind her. mulder is clearly unwell, though, and scully asks what is wrong, which he ignores and walks past her. typical him.

a new alter of melissa's seems to front, now with a southern accent, saying the guns are in a bunker. but… it’s the civil war she’s talking about. she was a nurse, looking for someone who was staying in tennessee. and she found that someone here, dead. then she was hidden in a bunker while the battle raged above her. it is very horrific, what she is describing.

she clarifies that she was there in november 1863, then turns to mulder and says “as were you”. he doesn’t seem shocked by this, but scully is, as this new southern belle proclaims “this is the field where i watched you die” OH!

(mulder, a confederate in a past life… this is deeply unfortunate)

mulder is trying to make a phone call to a hypnotist while they drive melissa back to the police station, but scully figures out he’s trying to do past life regression on her and says not to. and that her life is in shreds, and that is too much for her to handle. i hate to say it, but i agree with her. melissa has been through so much, and with such a tight deadline, i don't know if they have time for such a journey.

OH! mulder is angry. his voice is all growly as he yells “YOU WERE THERE, SCULLY! you saw it, you heard it, why can’t you feel it?” oh my gosh… the way he slammed his hand on the wheel... why can't she see it, it seems so obvious to him... how infuriating it must be...

scully asks why ephesian is a paranoid sociopath for claiming to be in greece years ago, but he isn’t for claiming to have died in that field……. damn…….

(idk what’s going on here between them exactly but i’m stressed. they are stressing me out)

(at this point, we begin a sequence in which i am so enraptured with what is going on, i have no reactions to all of the things i am seeing, and just recount them to you, with occasional interjections of "oh my god"- but i think if you've seen the episode, you get why it had this effect on me)

so they do get a therapist, who is talking to melissa. she begins to answer the therapist's questions about seeing anything upsetting at the compound, talking about a woman named elizabeth and her son scott, who came to live in the temple. and ephesian took the son away. but ephesian caught his mother visiting her son, and “the mighty men” beat her, which brings melissa to tears as she recounts this. and he hit the boy, calling him garbage, beating him.

scully looks very stressed in the background to hear all of this, but sydney is now fronting at this point, saying to leave melissa alone, and that the guns are in the bunkers… somewhere. where they are is a mystery, though.

scully leans down to mulder and says that maybe there is a map somewhere, but mulder says she knows where to find them. and at this she says “mulder…” in a very breathy fashion and i still can’t quite articulate what is going on between them…. but he’s going in.

he says it’s me, melissa, and asks her to go back to the field. “your eyes may have changed shade, but it cannot color the soul behind them”, she says. that they are only to meet in passing in this life. and she misses him. he just stared and stares, before his head falls into his hands

scully is trying to explain to him that this is a product of melissa's illness, and she can’t give any specifics- no names or locations, and they don’t have time to do this, because ephesian’s arraignment is in two hours.

“wouldn’t you, scully? wouldn’t anybody?” <- oh my god…. is he compelled by a terrible sense of duty or by his own curiosity? is she scared to watch him go down this path he cannot return from?

okay, so now he is going back into his past lives. this sequence is almost entirely a close up of his face, for minutes on end, which adds to the intensity. he's really panting as he remembers. “ghetto streets. shattered glass. bodies of the dead. a jewish woman. poland.” oh my god……

he says that he is samantha’s mother in this life; “in this life, she is my son”

his father is dead, and… HIS FATHER IS SCULLY? WHAT? i didn’t see that coming. she’s troubled by this, all of this, not just learning he believes her soul to have been his father before.

but he says that his father is waiting now for their souls to come back together, different, but always together, again and again, to learn.

and he is crying. he can’t go to his father. a gestapo man is there, and he is cancer man; “evil returns as evil, but love… souls mate eternal”. and his wife is melissa, who is taken away to the camps. and he’s crying, and scully is watching with great concern.

now, he’s rising above the field, near the bunker. and his sergeant is also dead, and “he is scully”, and we cut to her face of increasing sadness. sarah holds him, who is melissa. she is sarah kavanaugh, and he is sullivan biddle. she doesn’t know that he’s waiting for her, that they will live again.

scully tries to ask if he sees any bunkers, but he keeps saying his soul is tired, and he wants to rest.

and this is devastating. it was if i was the one undergoing the hypnosis here. i couldn't look away, i couldn't react, i was so entirely absorbed and confused and busy feeling things.

scully is consulting a map in the town records to try and find this bunker where the weapons are stored, and then she looks up the names he mentioned. sure enough, they are in the county records. then she reaches for some photos, where she finds one of sullivan and sarah.

a lot of things are being processed in her brain, so we might need to give her a minute. i think we can see some long-held systems of belief being challenged in her mind.

but she brings him back the photos of their past lives, even as she is telling him that ephesian is going to be released soon. why would she do this? to comfort him? to validate him without using words?

oh my god, mulder just called her “dana”. wait. hold on. oh my god, hold on.

“dana, if, um… early in the four years we’ve been working together… an event occurred that suggested or somebody told you that… we’d been friends together in other lifetimes- always- wouldn’t it have changed some of the ways we looked at one another?”

“even if i knew for certain, i wouldn’t change a day”

WAUGHHHHHHHH (ripping my clothes off in grief) WAOUGHHHHHH wouavhhhghhhh……… she wouldn’t change a day….

(and what event was it that he is referring to? is there a certain one...? am i forgetting something from early s1...? damn you, my obsessive note-taking impulses, for not kicking into gear until s2...)

“well… maybe that flukeman thing, i could have lived without that just fine” HDHJSNSME he smiles as she leaves….

(i had to google what that even was because i was like ??? but the flukeman was the season 2 sewer baby!!! for those of you who are going into this whole thing blind and also don't know what the fandom calls stuff! i think to me he was "baby sewer mermaid" or something along those lines... but now we know)

so now he and melissa are in the room together, trying to recall. she says she wants to believe (!!!), and he’s rubbing her hand, but ephesian comes in, saying it’s time to leave. so she rips the photo in half and leaves crying.

does he know he was supposed to love her? is he mourning that he hasn't? is he wondering if he has time to?

mulder gets up, and leans his head against the wall. scully comes in to say that they are still searching for more bunkers as the temple people return to their home. there is a deep sense of grief.

ephesian seems suspicious.

mulder is talking to skinner, saying that those in the temple believe that the FBI are the devil’s army, prophesied to be defeated by the armies of god. but ephesian must not really believe that, because he hid the weapons. mulder emphasizes that he may “deny himself”.

back at the compound, all the members are being called to worship. the music is getting scary, and guns are being pulled out.

scully looks up some bible verses and realizes that ephesian is calling his members to the end of times, which gives skinner the go ahead to launch a raid.

back at the compound, the poison is being distributed to the members of the temple. and a few are shooting at the agents outside, and mulder and scully pull up as the sipping of the poison begins inside.

NO! mulder puts his hands up and begins to walk into the compound!!!!! WHAT IS HE DOING!!! scully shouts out that he is dead. as we see inside there are piles and piles of bodies, including melissa.

but wait! is she still alive???? she’s getting up!!!

but no! ephesian is still there watching her. giving her poison to take. mulder is running in as fast as he can, trying to figure out what is going on. and he finds the room full of the bodies while gregorian chanting is in the background.

he finds melissa, with no pulse, holding onto the photo she had torn.

scully sees him touching her arm, raising his eyes and crying.

we end where we began, with him in the field, holding the pictures of his and melissa’s past lives.

end episode.

what…..

first thoughts: i don’t quite know what to make of this, but i can tell it is going to tear me apart for the rest of my life.

second and third thoughts are also variations of my first thought.

i feel so sad? to know that mulder has (or thinks he has) lived these horrific past lives, and that he is reunited with the same people over and over again, to learn and lose them. and that scully was there with all of them- but so was melissa, and he said that soulmates are eternal, so if that is true he lost his for this life. and he said he was so tired, so tired... how can he escape the eternal cycle of samsara?

and scully, watching all of this- what did she mean when she said that he wasn't responsible for anything but himself? was it an insult? was she begging him? what was she feeling when she heard him talk about her being there in his past? was she trying to hurt him in their conversation in the car? will they ever actually be able to see eye to eye? does she believe him? can she? how does hearing all of this shake her own faith?

can you have many soulmates that come with you again and again, just in different forms? so would his soulmates be scully, and his mother and father and sister, and this melissa figure? and what are the implications of losing a soulmate in this world? is that a life of feeling that something is missing, until death? do they shuffle roles, but come again and again? is that comforting or horrific? are we to believe him?

and that terrible, terrible ending, him finding the bodies... how are we supposed to interpret that? just more grief on top of already endless grief? or are we supposed to see the poetry moment as an answer to a question that provides relief, even if it is bittersweet?

why did he want to know so badly? was he driven by duty to save? duty to find the Truth? duty to protect his loved ones and seek cosmic answers? are these separate things, or are they all intertwined in him?

i'm... really going to have to think this one over. i would really appreciate hearing your thoughts, as well. i wish i had a solid interpretation. it was very serious and sad, and it was bittersweet but filled with grief. i once again echo my earlier request for fluff. but how do you go back to the way things were once he says she was with him in every life? how does scully rationalize that? what are they to each other?

i'm pondering. it feels like something has shifted. and you can't go back now, even if i can't pinpoint what it is that changed.

i want to go back to daydreaming about apple cider dates. but it feels like you can't, you know? huh.

#this one was A Lot for me #i am not sure i would rewatch this recreationally because it was so much grief #and i am grateful for the character analysis but also i don't know what to do with it #i just have ALL THESE FEELINGS and i don't know WHERE TO PUT THEM #so yes i ask every episode for interpretations/thoughts/feelings/reactions #but for this one i am BEGGING on my knees. pls share yours.#it feels like something has changed forever and can never go back and i almost wish it could #what am i feeling? anyone wanna tell me?#maybe this is one of those things you need longer than 24 hours to comprehend #if you have struggled with what this episode means and came to your own answer lmk because it feels like a koan #IT'S JUST A SHOW i tell myself as i try to decode the meaning of life IT'S JUST A SHOW #but i want them to be happy and it so rarely happens!#is that so wrong... for a girl to want her favorite characters to be happy... no it is not #halloween episode now. show me silly costumes. i need some levity #juni's x files liveblog #txf #the x files

18 notes · View notes