#but I just can't with her trying to fix what isn't broken and doing so by hurting the innocent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dilf-docs · 2 months ago

Text

I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)

jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: jackson's loud mouthed spoiled princess has suddenly gone quiet. what or who could be behind such miracle?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (20s/50s), pwp, p. in v., oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, dacryphilia, pussy spanking, fingering, humiliation kink, dom!joel, sub!joel if u squint, soft!joel (look at that switch sandwhich fr), brat!reader (she's annoying and v mean, you've been warned), denial is a river so take this before the world mourns joel miller again

word count: 5,391 words

side note: new layout my citizens! will eventually update all of the blog but as for now, enjoy this one and the masterlist. quick thing, i just wanted to say that i had a very shitty week and for the life of me, can't find a way to make ttdik pt. 4 not oversaturated with angst bc i wish all men a very pleasant die or how to connect what i've written so far. note that this was kinda rushed; i feel confident of some parts and not the whole thing. just hoping it works for y'all! (based on this request)

Joel Miller isn't who he used to be before.

Life in Jackson has made him... soft. This version of him, tired of a life of killing and running, tainted with blood and regret. But he's now an uncle and a father. Well, used to be. Ever since Ellie had found out the truth and wanted nothing to do with him, he had somewhat become downright pathetic. Joel could be both Jackson's most useful man, even at his age, while also being their biggest wretch. Ah, yes: Joel Miller, the man who lived in the house down the street, alone and certainly worth the townsfolk's pity.

Maybe that's why you couldn't bother to be nice to him. In your eyes, a man like Joel just didn't deserve your time or respect.

But it wasn't personal, really. He happened to, unfortunately, be in charge of your patrol. That, in your eyes, made him your enemy: a person to be defied and picked apart. And the worst part is, in his current position, Joel just didn't have the energy to fight you back.

"You want me to cross that wearing this?" your protest comes in the form of a whiny pitch. "Ew, no. I'd rather be dead"

At least dead, you wouldn't be a bother. He rolls his eyes, rubbing his face tiredly. The rest of the group watches the interaction in silence, expressions pretty much the same.

"I promise 'cha, princess. Ya' wouldn't want that"

The nickname should irk you, but you let it pass. It is no news to anyone that you are indeed a princess: Jackson's resident little spoiled brat.

Sheltered from early starts of civilization's downfall, maybe your parents had done more bad than good trying to protect you and settling early on in Jackson. You had grown to be a pampered bitch who made Joel's patience wear thin. Of course, to keep him busy and distracted, Tommy had assigned you to Joel. And while he'd rather not spend his days on a house too big for a person, he too wasn't exactly excited about having to deal with you on your patrol shifts.

(If you could call them that. You did anything but patroling)

You cross your arms, petty. "I'm not moving unless you carry me"

Maybe your need to defy him also came, partly, because of this: the way he's looking at you right now, a quiet rage simmering in those big round brown eyes that remind you of a kicked puppy, but when they burn, they seem like a forest fire, old remnants of the hunter that had been tamed by domestic life and a broken relationship resurfacing.

It excites you.

All your life, people seemed to bend to your will-- a force of nature: to your cruel harsh icy wind. You kept Jackson down at their knees, but it wasn't kindness, rather your shoe up their throats what put them to your feet.

Yet, Joel... he could be a loser to you, but he was probably the only one you'd met to be insane enough to defy you. The only man who didn't succumb to your fluttering eyelashes, pink lips and princess manners. No, he ignored the way you looked at him and your constant begging for attention, leaving the job to those men who seemed to follow your every step, ready to be themselves a carpet for you to step in. He'd roll his eyes and walk past you like you were the most bland, boring and uninteresting thing in the world: not worth a second of his attention. Joel simply wouldn't entertain your spoiled attitude past replying to a few snarky comments.

And that revolted and aroused you in equal parts.

It's not like you could escape your obligation, but perhaps, the bigger reason you chose to not skip patrol like you used to before his arrival, is to see Joel Miller's sinking ships for eyes try to wash over your rebel flame.

"Be free to stay then" he replies, but you don't miss the way his grip on his rifle turns white. "I ain't carryin' no one"

"I can carry you" one of the guys from your group offers.

(You can't remember his name)

"Sure" you chuckle, victory smile dancing on your lips at the sight of him looking above his shoulder in a barely stolen glance, thinking you won't notice.

But you do.

Joel Miller fucking hates you.

After five decades alive, he simply can't stand the idea of breathing the same air as a spoiled little brat like you.

Joel's seen destruction, loss, hopelessness and blood up close, and the thought of you walking around like the world owes you a favor fills him with vitriol.

He's been alive for fifty-six years so he's simply just tired. Too tired to give a damn about your attitude, despite how you manage to press all his buttons every time you open your mouth.

He still remembers the first time he met you, how you laughed like people did before all civilization was destroyed. You walked with a confident strut, boots clicking against Jackson's streets, every step made with determination. Like you knew just where you were going.

He envied you, in a way. After Salt Lake City, he seemed to have lost his path, all in the name of love. Then, that warm feeling had turned cold and cruel like all things in this world ravaged by pain, and he felt even at more loss than the first time he experienced grief.

But you? You lived everyday with a dismissal so cold it seemed like nothing could hurt you.

He missed that part of him who just survived: hardened by the world around him.

But Jackson tamed him. Ellie made him soft.

And then you brought up that old dark part of him: the putrid black liquid that spewed through the cracks of his new character that made him loved by Jackson. The same one that made people fear one of Boston QZ's most brutal smugglers. It was that vicious anger, red on his vision like the ichor that would splatter on his clothes or cover his bruised knuckles.

He hated you for it.

But that was in the past, and Joel Miller simply didn't care.

Yet, you made him care. Outright forced him to.

In a way, it seemed like you enjoyed this: the banter of contained rage and practiced patience, dripping as a leak until it overflew. You'd shot your bratty remarks and petty complains until he'd turn around and see you. Then, you'd smile, like that's all you needed to feel better. Far superior. And he hated it. Knew your little game, and fed into it, even as he told himself he wouldn't. Like a drug: a destroying addiction.

Joel didn't understand why you took the time to enrage him, having even heard once when he was late for patrol (he overslept), how you talked bad about the, in your words, Lonely Pathetic Man From The House On The End Of The Road.

Joel Miller has been patient. God knows he has. But he isn't religious, and was never the type to let things pass by.

No. Joel Miller was born with impel, and no matter how many love he had to give, the world around him constantly reminded him of the power hidden behind the exertion over others, how alive he'd felt with the gift he'd been given by heaven.

He isn't patient. He isn't a fool. He isn't pathetic: and Joel Miller will take matters between his rugged hands.

Tommy had arched an eyebrow first, looking at just his and your name on the patrol schedule.

"What's going on?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his brother.

"Found a cabin deep on the forest" curt, "I'ont need lot'a people to scavenge the place"

In the end, he agreed. Who didn't? You, obviously, the reason so many before him had gotten rid of their obligation of you. To flirt with you at the Tipsy Bison? Hell yeah. To have you in their patrol team? God, no.

"Where is everyone else?" you cross your arms above your chest, bracing yourself because of the weather. "Also, isn't this climate not patrol appropiate?"

Joel's not dumb, of course he knows that-- he can feel his aching joints shiver and bones creak because of the temperature. But he also knows he's sick of your shit.

"Ain't you little Ms. Know it all" he mocks, brushing past you, shoulders clashing with the same harsh force the icy breeze does to your face.

"And you're an asshole" you're quick to counter, "bringing us out here in the cold. If you wanted to kill me, you could've made it easier for both of us and done it way back in Jackson"

He rolls his eyes at your incessant bickering.

"Watch y'er mouth" is all he says, the brat hanging dangerously close to the tip of his tongue.

"I'd rather watch my step, thank you very much" you purse your plush pink lips, annoyed. "Have you seen the size of this roots? I will trip and break myself"

He chuckles at your hyperboles and the way you jump in a rather exaggerated manner, more in amusement than irritation.

"Don't think ya' can handle all'at?" Joel taunts. "Gon' break like a doll?"

Doll. It hangs in the air, like the snowflakes that fall into your hair and his eyebrows, the white fusing with his own.

"I'm strong" but it comes out weak.

"Don't seem like it" he's laughing at you again, a sharp annoyed edge to it. "With all that complainin' ya' do"

You huff, your incredulity condescing in the air.

"What's wrong with that?"

"With bein' annoyin'?" Joel quips.

"With voicing out my concerns"

He's walking ahead of you, yet you see his shoulders slump, like he does when he disagrees.

"Those ain't concerns, jus' moanin' and bitchin'"

It's still inside the fun banter you're carrying, harmless, but for some reason, it strikes you in the face.

"If you can't stand me so much, why don't you quit on me, like the others?"

You may seem cold, but there's that cut that always bleeds. Or it may be the need for something that blurs the line between you and those survivors out there who've outlived the worst a man can endure.

Like Joel.

You just can't help wanting it all.

Joel stops on his tracks at your words, response barely above a whisper:

"'Cause I ain't a quitter"

As if that could bring any sense into what had started the moment he layed eyes on you.

You finally reach your destiny in silence, the old cabin hanging by a thread.

"This looks like shit" you comment out loud.

Joel lets out a laugh, a deep rumbling sound coming out of his chest. For a reason, red dust makes it's way into your warm cheeks.

"No, doll. In this world, this ain't shit. It's decent"

You don't miss the way your breath hitches and heart skips a beat at the petname. He doesn't miss the way his tongue burns and his jeans squeeze at the sight of you: powerless.

God, Joel could go to hell for this. (But he'd probably be fine)

"Decent? You're one to talk" it spills out, your fear attacking the only way you know how when you're nervous.

Bite.

You hate feeling weak. You hate how your own game has turned on you.

It seems, Joel Miller isn't just a pathetic man but one who knows how to play.

(You knew this. But now, it's real, not the image you touch yourself to during nighttime, and it's equally both exciting and scary)

The red desire for hunger is there on his eyes. "What's that s'pposed to mean?"

You tilt your head, tone feigning innocence. "I think you know what I mean"

He paces around the room, like your floral scent is too suffocating and the cold isn't enough to shake the fire that burns inside him.

"Spit it" he dares, stopping midtrack. You remain silent, so he walks over to you, face so close, some spit lands in your face. "I said, spit it"

"I think you're pathetic, Joel Miller" yet, for some reason, your heart wavers. What were you even doing? Never had you doubted yourself once, sometimes even finding pleasure in the wicked cutthroat words you'd spew, but today, as his face stands dangerously close to you, his breath ghosting over your lips as his eyes roam over them and you count his wrinkles, it feels wrong.

"'S that what 'cha think, doll?" he chuckles, leaning forward. His lips barely brush against yours by mistake, yet it's enough to send shivers all over your body. "Wanna know what I think? I think you're da' real pathetic burden here. Fucken annoyin' and unuseful. All you know how ta' do is complain' and be a bitch"

"A bitch?" your voice is loud as your roar back, probably because it's coming into your face with the force of a train. But that's how truth feels, and it hurts like hell. "Did you just call me a bitch?"

He laughs, bitterly so, equally irritated as fascinated by how easy it's to see you crumble.

Joel made you out to be this unbreakable force, but at the end of the day, you're human, just like him.

"And y'called me pathetic, s' I guess we're even"

You look crazy: hair disheveled by the wind, chest going up and down and that same craze look on your eyes.

"Fuck you, Joel Miller" you seethe.

It's a simple comeback. No witty retort, no elaborated plot. Just four words, yet it's the way you said it, venomous, with such hostility, like his presence alone made you sick. Your skin crawl. Like the thought alone of being equals couldn't pass through your thick skull, and you had to get rid of just the concept; an ofense.

You pull back, realizing how truly close you were. You then march to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

With Joel, there's always a first when it comes to you.

(The first man to catch your attention. The first man to show lack of interest or amusement to your well-known tactics that worked every time. The first man to make your skin crawl like seeing yourself in the mirror. Like you would stare until your image would imprint on your brain, and you'd pick apart every small detail you don't like about you. That was Joel fucking Miller, rolling like thunder, ready to strike over your walls, like he knows where to hit to make you crumble, as if the façade you've built is as much in vain as the hate you carry even with the easy life that's been given to you)

He may be the first man to make you cry.

"Come here!" he shouts, roaring voice reverberating against the walls of the cabin. He swings the door of the bedroom open, finding your satisfied expression as you sit over the old worn out mattress, wiping your tears quickly with a harsh tug of your sweater, coat lying on the dirty floor.

"What?" you ask, as if you hadn't started the fight five seconds ago.

"Ya' think y' can shout and then leave like that?" he spits, "you fucken brat!"

A weird wild spark settles in the pit of your stomach.

"I can do whatever I want"

(The fire. It burns)

He scoffs at your childish response. "Not when y'er under my watch. Like it or not, y'r ma' damn responsability, kid"

Now it's your turn to sneer. "Don't call me that. I'm not a kid"

Of course you fucking weren't: he's got eyes. But goddamn, didn't you act like one all the time?

"Good" his voice adquires a weird tone to it, dropping. "Then strip"

It's like the air's been knocked out of your lungs.

You scoff. "Excuse me?"

"I know you ain't deaf" tone stern, "nor stupid. Are you?"

"Did you just call me stupid?" you raise your voice. Was he going to pull out every single insult from the book? Fair, you think, after you had told him to fuck off in the way you did.

(You were aware your words shoot to kill when you were mad. You had a lot of regrets about that)

"I asked 'cha if ya' were. If there's no answer, I s'ppose that's it"

"I'm not stupid" you counter.

"What?" he's asking you to say it again, like he hasn't heard you.

"You aren't deaf" you repeat his earlier words, eliciting a chuckle out of him.

The windows of the cabin rattle, the cold winter slipping inside the cracks. You shiver yet stand still, not wanting him to misinterpret your body language.

As if you'd ever surrender to him. As if.

"I'm sick of your bullshit" he seethes, "thinkin' ya' can make a clown outta me infront of everyone else, and then look at me like I'm sum piece of meat. Now it's your turn"

"My turn to what?" but this time, your voice wavers. You walk closer, eyelids fluttering.

His uneven breath condensces in the air with a shaky gelid exhale.

"Y'e don't know what you're gettin' into" he warns.

You smile at his barely contained temper. "I think I do"

Joel's body is completely surrounding yours in the bedroom. Before you register, he pulls you by your jaw with his hand.

"Still thinkin' that?" he mocks, thumb pulling your bottom lip down, forcing your mouth open. "Answer me"

But he's pressing his finger on your tongue. You feel yourself starting to drool.

"Ya' really want 'tis, don't 'cha?" his eyes darken, "droolin' like a fucken cockstarved slut. Now strip" his grip tightens, "I won't ask again"

Your body shivers, but no longer because of the temperature drop. A treacherous jolt runs in between your legs at the very first instance of someone putting you in your place. It feels too good to backtrack, but the last remaining drops of sanity plead you to quit.

"Joel" you say his name like a prayer, and he thinks he'd like to see you beg. "I was fucking around-"

"Don't make me repeat myself"

You sit on the edge of the bed, getting rid of your clothes. It's like your mind has stopped working and your body belongs to someone else.

But you want this. Fuck, you had begged for this: sharpening your knife to make your words cut deeper with him until the bleeding was too big to ignore.

You wanted this. Craved it. Needed to satisfy whatever foreign feeling you'd now attribute to your rebellious and spoiled nature.

(You had never been denied anything, and even now, Joel knows this, but can't help and too give in)

"Not so loud now, are we?" he jests, "but 's worth the view, lettin' 'cha run your spoiled tongue off"

He hums with approval at the sight of your body, your pliant energy making his hard cock twitch in his pants.

"You like what you see, Joel?" you ask softly, despite your resistence.

He groans at that, calloused digits grazing the soft skin of your virgin collarbones.

"I do, princess" he answers, lifiting your chin up. "I'll show ya'"

He takes your hand into his bigger one, moving it right onto the spot between his legs.

"You've been bad, little spoiled brat" Joel's voice rasps as your thighs rub together. Y'er lucky I like that"

He pats your cheek. "Wanna make it up to me?" you eagerly nod, desperate for Joel's approval. You hate not having the upper hand, and a part of you thinks you'd get it back if you behave well. "Good girl. Now sit"

He sits next to you, patting his thick thighs. You salivate just at the thought, moving your body over his denim clad lap. "Right'ere"

"Look at 'cha" he parts your legs, a hoarse tks falling from his lips. Joel chuckles at the wet mess that's created. "So fucken wet and I ain't even touched yet"

You feel his rough digits ghost over your dripping cunt, just as his lips had done minutes ago. The teasing sets you on edge, thrill coarsing through your veins. Without warning, his big palm slaps against your cunt, and you feel yourself soaking your folds like you had never ever before.

"Fucken dirty whore. You ain't no princess, gettin' wet to 'tis" he mocks, "what would daddy say"

"Shut up" you sneer, but your body is full of hormones and treason.

"Not when I'm above 'cha, darlin'. Wouldn't wanna piss me off when I'm the one who decides if 'tis pretty pussy comes or not"

"What makes you think I'll take shit from you?" but it comes out as a whimper. Smack. A jolt runs straight from your pussy, stinging from the contact. "Didn't take it when we where in patrol, why should I do now?"

He laughs, darkly. It's haunting.

"'Cause you want 'tis. And I know you'll be a good girl for me to get it"

You feel yourself dizzy, head spinning as you land on the floor.

"Let's see if I get 'cha to shut up if that dirty bratty mouth of y'rs is stuffed full of ma' cock"

He pulls down his worn-out jeans, getting rid of his belt on a harsh pull. The clinking sound makes you rub your thighs together in a new found anticipation, instead of taking the time to run away from this, whatever the hell this is.

No. He's right.

You want this as much as he does.

(Isn't that the scariest part?)

"Ya' like what 'cha see, y/n?" he's smart to use your same words back, but it's the way he's said your name, like he was always meant to say it, or the angry throbb of his cock, what makes you drool at the red furious tip, dripping with rage and need.

"I think it's your dick who's more excited than me" you taunt, tracing the inner soft skin of his thick thighs. "Practically begging for me to lick it"

His adam's apple bobs.

"Tell me, Joel, when was the last time someone made this pretty big cock feel good?"

"Enough" his fingers grab your hair, pulling you harshly until he drags your mouth onto his cock. "I'm tired of y'er bullshit"

You aren't a stranger, he thinks, with the way you kiss his tip, tongue making a wet circle through the head of his cock. You take him into your mouth, pulling out in a second.

"W-what you do that for?" he asks, breathing rapidly. Strained voice.

You smirk.

"To watch you"

To watch how his eyes had closed as soon as your breath ghosted over his leaking cock, how he threw his head back and gripped the sheets viciously at just your shameless lazy circling. Joel Miller could be in charge, but God, wasn't he touch-starved?

(And for a reason, that was so fucking hot. And, in a way, adorable)

"J-just 'cause I'm-" he cuts himself off, probably out of need or out of embarrassment. "You're not in charge, so don't fuck around with your chances, slut. Imma show you y'r place real quick"

His grip tightens in your hair, forcing himself back into your mouth. Joel was punishing, with the way he's pushing your head down until it was at the base of his cock. You gagged for a moment, eyes closing at the weight of his thick girth on your tongue.

"Takin' it like a champ, princess. Usin' that mouth of y'rs for good" and then, with a softer tone he adds, "like ya're made for me"

You moan around him as he starts fucking into your mouth, pulling you off quickly, saliva slipping out of your mouth as you gasp for air.

"Joel" you whine his name, legs pressing together in order to get any friction.

"Now you beggin'? 'S gonna take more than jus' that, doll" he taunts, but there's a certain wicked softness to the way he traces your cheek as you scramble an attempt. "Try harder, princess"

"I'm sorry, Joel-"

He moves his head, clearly dissatisfied.

"Not Joel. Ya' call me sir when I fuck you"

A mewl escapes your lips.

"Sir" comes out like a faithless prayer, begging to be heard. "I'll do anything, sir, please, touch me"

"Al'ight, but still, it ain't 'nough"

Oh.

The hot tears in the corner of your eyes shouldn't arouse him this much, but the watery promise makes his cock twitch.

"I-I'll do anything, I swear" you beg, the salty tears stream down your cheeks in cascades. "It hurts, Jo-" you whine, "sir, please. Just fuck me goddamit!"

Your once poised voice, now reduced to a whimpering begging mess. Your red rimmed eyes, beginning to puff. It's the way a gloss seems to coat over them, making you look like a doe-eyed deer and not the brat who challenged his every decision and word.

Fuck, isn't he aroused.

"Lookin' so pretty when you cry" he smiles, but instead of wiping the tears, it's his tongue that licks them off your face. "You beggin' that bad to take my cock"

You nod, eagerly so.

"Please, Jo- Just, please. D-don't make me beg" your face feels hot and wet again, "I-I can't take it anymore. Just fucking give it to me!"

"Easy, baby. Can't understand a thing you sayin'" Joel teases. "Where your manners at, besides?"

"Please, sir" he gently pulls you up, humming in satisfaction.

"Goin' crazy over my cock, baby? Y'sure have a nerve to call one pathetic if you gon' act like this, you little brat"

But he is the one moaning when his lips cature your mouth with a fierce impulse, like he wants to devour you whole and swallow your vocals, as to never speak up again.

(But then, he wouldn't hear his name on your sweet albeit snotty voice, and that's a privilege he can't forbid himself from, no matter how annoying you can get sometimes)

"Please" you whisper one last time. He wipes a stray tear with his rough thumb. "I'm yours"

"See, baby? It ain't that hard to shut that mouth of y'rs"

He guides you to the old bed while renewing the kiss, tongues now engaged on a battle for dominance, like even without using your words you'd still need to assert your power over the other. You moan into his mouth when your body slams against the mattress and Joel lands on top, his weight sinking you in the old bed, that creaks.

"I just want to be a good girl for you" you whimper.

"You sure of that? Not gon' be a brat?" and despite his harsh tone that seems to humiliate you, his wandering fingers are gentle with each touch, like if he were to put any more force, you'd break. Joel thinks it's not necessary with you: just with you begging for his cock, he's broken you.

"No, sir" and then you whimper as his mouth dives to the collarbones you had taunted him with before. Joel takes his time, inhaling the musk and savoring the sweet of your skin. Needy whines leave your lips, and he's having the time of his life seeing you surrender so easily, like you had no idea what limits to push, where they'd take you and how you'd pay for that.

"C-Can I touch you?" you whisper, hands itching to tangle on his grey parted hair. He chuckles at the eagerness and tenderness you don't seem aware of.

"S' you can be sweet if ya' want to, huh?" he leaves a fluttering kiss to your chin. "Needy and desperate too. Do ya' want to touch, princess? Remember to use y'r words"

"Yes, sir. I-I want to touch you"

"Thought I disgusted you, hmm? I take you've learnt y'r lesson now?"

"Yes, I've learned. Please, sir, won't do it again" you plead.

"I'll allow ya' to touch, doll" he gives you a smirk, "but 'ts all you get for now"

He lets your hands cling to his coat, taking it off. Then, you proceed to his buttoned shirt, fingers flidding with buttons until you grown annoyed and desperate, pulling the fabric over his head with need.

"Look at 'cha" but there's only adoration, proven so when he starts to kiss the trail of soft skin that goes from your neck to your stomach, making you squirm. "Easy, baby. 'M gettin' down there"

He finally reaches your core, kissing the inner side of your thighs with wet and sloppy lips. His hot breath tingles over your clit, and a beat later, his mouth presses into your cunt, your back arching at the cold contact of his chapped lips against the humid hot of your folds.

You muffle a moan, embarrassed at the whole situation.

"Ain't need to worry 'bout nothin', doll. Nobody can hear us" he grins, tongue flicking your clit. "Wanna listen to your pretty whimpers as I make 'cha feel good"

You cry out of pleasure, the sound escaping past your lips. Joel has a laugh.

"Good girl"

Joel rewards you with another series of minstrations on your bud, licks made with determination only the expert man knows of. He then slides one finger into you, slowly moving it in and out of your soaked trembling heat.

"M-more" you beg, eager to get more fingers inside you. "Please, more, sir"

You buck your hips to try to get closer to him, meeting his thrusts.

Joel tuts, "What're you doin', spoiled brat? Did I tell ya' to move? You were doing such'a great job... guess I gotta punish you-"

"No!" you shout. "Do anything you want, but touch me, please- touch me!"

He introduces a second finger, raising his brow at the immediate way you clench around him. Joel curls them, robbing another moan out of you.

"Feels good?" you can't answer, as a hard thrust robs another moan from you. "But I'ont want 'cha to think we done, princess. Think I'd let you come, jus' like that? After all's happened?"

"Need you" you tug him closer with your arms holding onto his. "Joel, sir- please"

"Oh, princess" he smirks, "I think you don't know what you askin' for"

Joel grabs his hand around his length, coating the tip in your slicky juices, and then, he presses his length into you in one thrust.

"You're big-" you pant as he gives you time to adjust to his size. Joel then picks up an unrelenting pace that makes moans spill out of you like a fountain, the pace of his thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge.

"N-need to-"

"Don't" he seethes. "Ya' won't 'till I tell ya' can"

All you could do is moan, helplessly pinned between his body and the bed. Your whole body shakes in an effort to contain as his hips loose their rhythm, his groans louder as he gets closer and closer to the edge.

"Al'ight. 'Cause you've been good" his cock drives through your walls with rhythmic melodies. "Cum, princess, but when ya' do, look at me"

You're seeing stars the moment your toes curl and his head falls to clash against your forehead.

(The beads of sweat roll down out of him like trails to follow, and his scarred rugged skin doesn't compare to your soft one, painted with the maroon of his bites and kissing at the skin of your collarbone. The dried up trails of tears. Your begging and desperate voice. His name on your lips)

It only takes a few more thrusts before he spills in you, cock twitching until every last drop of thick hot white cum is pumped into you.

Joel then pulls out gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead before flopping onto you, the mattress dipping even further. With his hand, he removes a stray strand of damp hair, putting it behind you ear with such tender kindness, your heart strings pull.

"In fact, I want ya' to look at me next time y'even think 'bout defying me. See if that mouth of y'ers can talk after 'tis"

A week later, you're back at patrolling.

"Anyone got anythin' to say?"

The group looks at you. You're about to open your mouth, but Joel cocks an eyebrow.

Just like that, and you're gone. Great job, y/n.

"Whatever" you sound meek as you push past him, yet he catches a glimpse of your warm cheeks. "Let's go"

The rest are too stunned to speak, the silence only cut off by Miller's laugh.

"Would 'cha look at that?" he whistles. "Ain't nobody tell ya' miracles don't happen anymore on this goddamn world!"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @chappellsroans

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johanna-517 · 2 months ago

Text

"Special and unique"

(CHAPTER 8)

It was morning, and you felt the light rays of sunlight streaming in through the window. You turned over in the large bed, trying to find a more comfortable sleeping position. You didn't have to go to school today, so you planned to just stay in your room and rest peacefully for the rest of the day.

Even more so after what happened yesterday... It would definitely be best to spend the day in your room today.

As you tossed and turned in bed, you finally noticed something... Toti wasn't there. You always slept with him in your arms, never letting go of him while you slept. So... Why are your arms empty now? Where's your precious teddy bear?

You feel a pang of worry instantly, and you open your eyes quickly, looking beside you in the bed, searching for Toti. But... He's not there.

When you look up, your heart nearly stops at the state of your room.

Everything was... Destroyed.

All the crafts you had made yourself were completely ruined and scattered on the floor, all the drawings you had made over the months that you had on the walls were broken into several small pieces lying on the floor.

And above all... The little photographs you kept of your mother were... Completely destroyed too, broken into tiny pieces.

Instantly, you feel your eyes fill with tears. You can't help but tremble slightly, your mouth open in complete shock as you take in the scene; all your things were ruined, your room was a complete mess, and the precious photos of your mother that you treasured were now shattered.

"Why?..." you mumbled, your voice shaking as you slowly got out of bed, feeling your legs getting weaker and weaker as you walked towards the mess.

Countless tears fall from your eyes, one after another without stopping as your eyes remain open, fixed on the terrible scene.

This... Isn't it true? It can't be, no, no, no...

This can't be happening to you, of course. You don't deserve it, you don't deserve this, it's not fair. Surely this is just a very bad nightmare, right? Yes, it's just that... A nightmare.

Finally, your legs give out and you fall to your knees on the floor, without even blinking, you continue to stare at the scene.

All of the drawings and paper crafts you'd been doing for months, all the creations you'd made with your own hands, everything that gave your room color, was just... Completely destroyed.

'Why?' you ask yourself, over and over again, wondering why this had to happen, why, for you, weren't all the terrible things you've been through enough? Fate... Does it really have to be so cruel to you?

Your hands shake uncontrollably as you pick up the small fragments of your mother's photographs.

"M-mamá... Perdón, lo siento tanto, yo-... No quería que esto pasara, perdón, perdóname"/("M-Mom... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I-... I didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry, forgive me.") You begged between sobs, picking up each little piece of the photograph one by one.

Your chest hurt so much, it's been a while since it hurt like this.

You loved your mother, you loved her, and you will love her forever, because she was everything to you. Even if she's gone, she can't leave you completely; you would never allow it. That's why, when you arrived here, you had brought as many photographs of your mother as you could, and that meant so much to you.

Because even if Mom wasn't by your side anymore, having photographs of her nearby made you feel as if she were, as if she were still by your side.

Whenever you felt down, you used to pick up one of your mother's photographs, trying to comfort yourself the way only she could. You wanted to feel that she listened to you, that she always would, that she truly... would never dare leave you alone in this world.

You were quite attached to those photographs, because they held the memory of your precious mother. Your fear of forgetting your mother's face was always eased by the photographs you had of her.

But now... Now these photographs are destroyed, it feels terrible.

This was one of the few things that made you feel better about your mother's impending absence, and now... It's all over.

When you collect all the small fragments of the photographs, you put them in a small box and set it aside.

Your mind goes blank for a moment, as tears continue to fall like waterfalls from your eyes.

But then, you remember... Toti, where is he?

You instantly jump up, walking quickly around the room, looking everywhere for the teddy bear.

It's not on the floor, it's not under the bed, it's not in the closet, it's not in any other piece of furniture. So, where's Toti?

A wave of anxiety fills your chest as you wonder if Toti is also broken like the rest of them.

No, that can't happen. Toti is too important to you. You can't let anything happen to him.

Without hesitation, you quickly leave your room, heading to the room of the person who caused all of this; Damian.

You run through the hallways, stopping in front of Damian's door. Without thinking, you open the door and walk in. Right now, you definitely weren't going to bother knocking.

Your eyes darken with anger as soon as you see Damian standing in the room. He's already awake. Of course he would be. After all, he had to get up really early to go and destroy everything in your room before you even woke up.

You don't say anything, instantly, you pounce on him, grabbing him tightly by the collar of his clothes.

"Tell me right now where you hid my teddy bear!" You yelled, demanding an answer as your eyes remained fixed on his.

"Oh, you're talking about that ugly teddy bear? Well, I don't know... Why would I know," he replied, looking away indifferently.

His indifferent attitude and response only make you boil over with anger even more, and before you can stop yourself, you slap Damian hard across the cheek. Of course, he instantly gets angry and attacks back, hitting you in the abdomen and making you instantly flinch.

It hurts... It definitely hurts, you're absolutely sure that the slap you gave him didn't hurt half as much as the hit he gave you back.

But, before you can say anything else, you look through the open door, outside in the hallway you manage to see Damián's pets, specifically, you manage to see Titus with Toti in his mouth.

Damian... He gave your teddy bear to his pets, as if it were a simple toy?

You freeze in realization, and without even thinking, you quickly run out of the room, ignoring the pain in your body, completely focused solely on saving Toti.

You had to fight with Damian's pets to get your stuffed animal back, you didn't care if they tried to bite or scratch you, it didn't matter as long as you could get Toti back.

Finally, after a struggle, you manage to get Titus to let go of your stuffed animal. You immediately grab Toti and quickly flee back to your room.

Once you reached your room, you walked in and slammed the door shut, letting yourself fall to the floor while keeping a tight grip on your precious stuffed companion.

Toti is fine... He's a little broken, but nothing too serious, luckily you managed to save him in time.

You try to ignore the way your body trembles... You really were that close to losing Toti. Besides, you're still pretty tense from everything that happened before.

Before you can start crying, you stop as soon as you spot something under the bed. You reach over and pick it up, and you realize... It was one of the many photos you had of your mother, but this one was completely untouched.

Your eyes definitely shine with relief, your body relaxing as you hold the photograph of your mother close to your chest. You were completely grateful for this. It seems fate isn't always so cruel to you. This time, not everything was ruined. Toti is fine, and you managed to preserve at least one of those precious photographs in perfect condition.

Probably when Damian destroyed the others this one fell and ended up on the floor, he didn't realize and that way he couldn't destroy that photo too.

Tears stream down your cheeks, but this time... You don't feel sad when you cry. Instead, you feel relieved, because even though Damian tried, he couldn't completely ruin you.

Along with relief, you feel determined, as you now definitely don't plan on letting Damian or anyone else dare try to ruin the things you hold dear. You'll never allow it.

A few days later, you literally begged Alfred for another room, as far away from the others' rooms as possible. Your current room was already somewhat far from the others, but it wasn't enough; you needed more distance, as much as possible.

So, you recently discovered a small room, quite secluded from the rest; you didn't even know this room existed. Perfect, this is just the room you need.

You don't mind the small size, you don't mind if the furniture here looks too old, or the layers of dust on the walls. You want to be here.

Alfred said that this was a room that had always been completely neglected in the mansion, as it was too small and far from the main rooms of the house.

Even though he said this room wouldn't be suitable for you, you didn't back down, not when you were determined to get it. You tried to look as sad as possible to instill pity, telling Alfred that you still felt bad about what Damian did to you, that you just wanted a space to feel safer, and that that place would be this small, remote room.

Luckily for you, Alfred quickly agreed, knowing that what Damian did in your room was completely wrong. And maybe the best thing for you really is to give you another room. So, he helped you, and the two of you started cleaning and organizing the room. Alfred even got some new furniture to put in your new room.

You were very excited, now you had a new room, you loved it, soon you took your things from your old room to bring them to the new one.

However, as you did so... A small idea struck you. So, you left some of the things you didn't need in your old room, making it seem as if it wasn't completely abandoned, as if it were still in use.

Why? Well, it was simple: you wanted Damian and the others (if they even knew which room was yours) to continue thinking that this was still your room. This way, no one would find out where you were, and you could enjoy your new little out-of-the-way room without anyone knowing.

Besides, since everyone seems so indifferent, you're sure they won't notice you've changed rooms anytime soon. They probably won't notice for years, right? You laugh softly to yourself, finally feeling calmer in your new room.

It's small... But it feels right. You like your new space, you feel calm and comfortable here. It doesn't matter that you literally have to walk until you're exhausted just to get to the kitchen, all because this room is actually quite far away, but you love it anyway.

It's been a few years, you were already thirteen years old, during these years everything remained the same from your own perspective. Bruce not having a second for you, Tim calling you a nuisance as soon as you get even an inch closer to him, Dick being the perfect older brother to everyone, but to you, he only has false empty kindness, without showing any real interest in you, Barbara and Cassandra indifferent to you, as always, Stephanie laughing a little whenever she sees you, Jason doesn't talk to you either, in fact, you haven't exchanged a single word with him during this time, and Damian? Well, it's simple, he's still as annoying as ever, repeating over and over again how weak and pathetic you are, however, you have never responded to Damian's comments again, you just nod slightly as if you heard him and as if he was right, you know that fighting is pointless, and you learned your lesson, fighting with him only brings more problems, so you decide not to provoke him.

And of course you know... You know they usually watch movies together every weekend. You know Dick sometimes takes Damian, Tim, and Jason out to eat at a restaurant in the city, or just to hang out. You know Stephanie, Barbara, and Cassandra have "girls' nights" out every now and then, just hanging out happily. You know Bruce also arranges to spend time with them from time to time.

And even more importantly, you know that you have never been and never will be included in their family plans.

You always see them from afar, acting like a real family, where they support each other, and where you don't exist.

But it's okay, you always told yourself that you don't need them, you don't need to be part of their stupid 'happy family', because you already have your own family, your real family, your mother, your aunt and your cousins.

About that, there's something that's been really worrying you. Recently, for a few weeks now, you've simply stopped receiving calls from your aunt and cousins. At first, they used to call you at least once a week, but now... It's been several weeks, and they haven't called you even once.

Why? Did something happen? They're having problems? Or maybe... They've just stopped calling you on purpose? No, of course not. You push that thought away instantly. They're not going to abandon you, they never would, they're your family.

You calmed yourself down, trying to think that your Aunt Lidia was probably just very busy, and your cousins too. They'll call you when they have time. You don't need to worry.

❦: (Here's chapter 8, sorry for the delay. I hope you liked it :D).

✯/Tag list: @hopingtoclearmedschool @simpingpandas @ryuushou @ninihrtss @soulsire @artistwithcreativeburnout @the-dumber-scaramouche @khalinda-ev @sillysealsies @moon0goddess @bunniotomia @twismare @arwenyukiamoto @wizzerreblogs @ironsaladwitch @luckyangelballoon @burningkittenprince @wisefuncherryblossom

#Special and unique #female reader #neglected reader #neglected reader x yandere batfam #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dc #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #platonic batfam #batfam x reader #yandere batfamily #female reader x batfam #yandere batfam x reader

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lxclerc · 1 year ago

Text

𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 ─ 𝐦𝐯𝟏

summary: where max verstappen is the subject of a love song from a singer who never writes love songs pairing: max verstappen x american singer!reader faceclaim: no one specifically but based off olivia rodrigo

note: me? writing max verstappen? smau fluff? on main? everyone look away.

dailyynupdates

liked by user33, user4, user16 and others

dailyynupdates yn was seen around monte carlo the past few days, taking pictures with fans and allegedly cozying up with three time world champion max verstappen

view all 104,210 comments...

user12 what is going on in the house of commons because this was the last thing i expected

user39 this is quite literally the most random pairing i've ever stumbled across

user91 how do they even know each other 😭 user63 right like...where did this even come from? how did it start? literally how did they meet? they could not be farthest apart in the sphere of famous people

user19 now who the hell is max verstappen and why is he with my wife?

user49 oh girl you have a lot to catch up on the max lore user71 max is a formula one driver user56 saying max is a formula 1 driver like he currently isn't dominating the sport to the point where people hates him saying he's making it boring since he keeps winning because he's just that fucking good that literally no other driver can keep up is kinda wild user10 oh so our girl's new man is good at his job user52 "good at his job might just be the biggest understatement of the century when it comes to max. man's a fucking beast at his job

user48 i dont have to see her with her ratty ex anymore omfg war is over

user93 dare i say...they're adorable

user82 yn being in an age appropriate, healthy relationship? i never thought the day would come

user74 we won for real 🥹🫶

dailyynupdates

liked by user23, user31, user69 and others

dailyynupdates max and yn in a video posted by yn's friend 😭

view all 59,129 comments...

user93 oh my god look at them 😭

user81 they look so in love i want to cry

user65 "maximillian, do i look pretty like this?" "you always look pretty" i couldn't quite catch what he said at the end but 😭😭😭

user85 dutch here and i believe he said "laiverd" which means darling user75 this means so much to me user65 you just made my entire week

user45 seeing her in love after all the shit men is healing a part of me i didnt know was broken

user53 max fixing her hood then kissing her cheek what if you just stabbed me

user31 every time i see these, i get the urge to take a shot of bleach 😀

sincerelyyn ✓

liked by conangrey, maxverstappen1, taylorswift and others

sincerelyyn can't have a conversation if it's not all about you

view all 402,452 comments...

yourfriend as the other person of those conversations, he's fine i guess 😒

sincerelyyn you know i love youuuuu

taylorswift love seeing you happy ❤️

sincerelyyn ❤️❤️ user73 mother is all of us user63 you know it's real when it's taylor swift approved

conangrey i hate happy couples i hope you both trip 🫶

sincerelyyn die 🫶

user92 their friendship is everything to me

user15 not girlie trying to soft launch like we all don't know who it is 😭

user43 THEYRE SO ‼️🥵🥰⚠️

user65 you're so right

user24 i'm so happy finally seeing our girl happy 😭

user84 "someday i'll be everything to somebody else" YES YOU ARE BABYGIRL 😭

maxverstappen1

liked by sincerelyyn, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others

maxverstappen1 my american girl 🩷

view all 308,291 comments...

charles_leclerc i still can't believe this is happening

maxverstappen1 for someone who don't even follow me, you sure are early to my posts 😒 user91 max gagged him with that im afraid

landonorris please please max talk to her about getting me tickets 😭

user85 lando is just like us fr struggling to get guts tour tickets maxverstappen1 no ❤️ landonorris 😔 sincerelyyn @landonorris let me get you in contact with my team 🤍 maxverstappen1 baby noooo sincerelyyn be nice, max landonorris HELL YEAH THANKS YN user42 this is the crossover i never thought i needed

user66 max posting non racing content and being all soft in the comments for yn in what world am i in

user52 fr i feel like im in an alternate universe 😭

sincerelyyn love youuuu

maxverstappen1 love you more

sincelyyn i never knew love could be so golden till i met you <3

maxverstappen1 mijn hele hart is van jou, schat (you own my entire heart, darling) user42 they mean so very much to me 😭

danielricciardo god the two of you make me nauseous

maxverstappen1 hating because you ain't us danielricciardo im not liking that attitude, kid 😒 user71 daniel is so us

sincerelyyn

liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, yourfriend and others

sincerelyyn so american will be out on all platforms at midnight. a letter to the man i love, the only way i know how ❤️

view all 592,649 comments...

maxverstappen1 i adore you with everything in my being ❤️

sincerelyyn ik hou van je (i love you)

i hope you guys liked this as much as i loved writing it 🫶

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen instagram au #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen fluff

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shanastoryteller · 7 months ago

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i know spn hates good writing and also sam, but the dumpster fire of s4 really could have been salvaged if they'd just played ruby and castiel straight

by which i mean

ruby should have been one of the good guys (honestly it feels like the writers changed their minds last second regarding her anyway)

castiel should have been the villain (which, let's be clear, he totally was)

the point of this is that it would force dean to confront his own bullshit and maybe figure himself out, which not only would have been good television but would have been satisfying to me, personally

sam's problem is that he wants there to be a good equal to every evil. that he believes goodness exists even where it doesn't, that he always wants to give things a chance, that he always has hope. they sound like good traits, up until they're used against him. they reach the station of angels are bad eventually, but it should have been more immediate and visceral, that there is no greater good here. sam should have had this knocked out of him, which would have shattered him in way, to lose this thing he's depended on his whole life, but it really would have hammered home that it's choices that really do matter, not circumstances

dean's problem is always that he sees monsters as monsters with no grey area, that sam always has to play his moral center the second anything becomes complicated. then he goes to hell, breaks, tortures innocents, and an angel yanks him out and tells him that he's a righteous man

dean desperately desperately wants this to be true

because it's sam who they had to look out for, sam who was destined to go darkside, sam with the demon blood

dean doesn't have that excuse

he's just a human man with a hunger for violence who never learned to curb his appetite. who was instead pushed to gorging himself on it, who is left broken and desperate and angry by what he did to save himself. his whole life, his whole self perception for thirty years, was about protecting innocents. then he betrays that in hell. do you think he kept count? how many innocents he destroyed against how many he saved? the day it equaled out, do you think he wished he could weep?

dean is so unbelievably messed up by hell. not the torture he endured, that's barely a blip, but the torture he inflicted is what haunts him

so he needs for sam to be the bad guy

he's using his powers, he's hanging out with demons, he's drinking demon blood. he's the monster. he's inhuman

(he's using his powers and hanging out with demons and drinking demon blood and still he's doing less harm than dean, still he's trying to save people. dean can't accept this, because he can't be the rotten one. he'll forgive sam anything, but never himself, so it has to be sam. because he can fix sam, he'll always love his brother, so if he's evil there's stil a path forward there. but if it's dean? if he's the one going evil? sam's left him before. why would he stay now? if dean is the one going darkside then he loses everything. himself. his brother. it has to be sam)

dean is projecting all his own shit onto sam because he can't deal with any of it, which is why he treats sam like shit, why he treats him in a way that he's never treated him before. it's how he treats himself. and sam has no idea what to do with this, is left reeling and hurt and broken himself by dean doing this to him. sam never thought dean would leave him to die in the panic room, because dean wouldn't, not the dean he's known his whole life, not the dean that loves him. not alone.

but dean would do that to himself. and since sam is his proxy for himself, it's what he does to sam, but sam doesn't know that so all he feels is the weight of betrayal and grief and rage

isn't it funny, almost? the demons brought sam back just as he was, exactly the same. the angels bring back dean but he's not the same. dean comes back wrong, comes back different. but no one wants to say that. to deal with it

having ruby be evil and castiel venerated justifies all of dean's spiraling, all of his punishment. he was right all along, sam was the problem, don't you see?

boring

ruby stays loyal to sam, a demon who chooses something different, who chooses the boy with the demon blood because there's something compelling about sam winchester, as tempting as the apple before eve, and ruby didn't get where she is by knowing better

(remember when sam pulled all the psychic kids together, acted as leader, and resisted azazel? there is a leader in sam, a compassion in him, that azazel had to cheat in order to beat. and if ruby can show him how to win against demons then-)

castiel let sam out of the panic room. he's following orders, because that's his job, and damn the consequences. this should have been seen as the act of betrayal and evil that it was, castiel proving he was never really on their side at all, never on the side of preventing harm. it also would have made his redemption arc mean something, it would have given castiel a lot more to work with if they'd had to really bring him back over

ruby realizes too late what killing lilith means. tries to stop sam, but now that she's here it's too late, kill or be killed. sam accepts that, is willing to die rather than start the apocalypse. but then dean is there, and he can't watch his brother die again, he just can't. so he kills lilith to save dean, when he would have been willing to die himself

ruby gets them out of there. they discover what castiel did, that he pushed forward the apocalypse rather than prevented it

this breaks dean. he finally snaps, but it's good, because everything he'd used to shore himself up before had been terrible and rotted and corrosive

a righteous man is not a good man. dean is forced to confront everything he's done in hell, and after he'd gotten back, everything he put sam through, how he left him in that panic room and almost killed him, how he's treated him for the past year. how it was a demon who tried to help in the end and an angel that damned them

and how sam saved him anyway, damn the consequences

we should have returned to what the show had been building up to from the beginning - that sam loves his brother enough to do terrible things and dean has no idea how to deal with that

so we've got sam and dean on the run with ruby, castiel's slower and much juicier redemption arc, and dean having to pick up the pieces of himself while sam tries to figure out how he gets them out this mess. and sam's guilt is justified here, his aching sense of responsibility, because this time he kills lilith knowing it'll free lucifer. he makes that choice, for dean. and he's determined to fix it

just. demon blood tainted sam and turncoat ruby trying to save the world. the angels trying to end it. all while dean finally accepts the crushing guilt of what he's done and starts to work through it, starts to work on becoming the brother sam lost, on once more being the steady thing sam can hold onto no matter what it takes, because sam choosing him reminds him of something he'd told himself he forgot

he doesn't want to be a righteous man, a torturer, a demon, a victim, a martyr

he just wants to be sam's brother. the one he looks up to, depends on, loves

he wants what he's always wanted

to feel worthy of his little brother's affection

#i have a lot of feelings about how s4 tried and failed to make everything sam's fault #sorry you've spent so long establishing the inherent goodness of this character that now the whole 'maybe he's evil' thing is just cringey #also dean i'm so sorry with what they did to you #you deserved better #supernatural

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logans-whore · 3 months ago

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Logan comforting you.

I know I have requests pending and I swear I'm working on them. But my mom and I got into a really bad fight (I say fight, but it was her lecturing me and me trying not to cry after a 12 hour work day.) Sorry for the trauma dumping, but I desperately needed to write something with Logan comforting you, because I'm in desperate need of that man loving me right now. Or anyone loving me, really.

Logan knows your home life isn't the best. While you can't say it's abusive, or physically hurtful, he sees how it drains you. See how when everyone's eager to get home, you drag your feet. And it makes his blood boil, because you're his girl, damnit, and he'd rather die than see you upset or hurting. But he bides his time, not wanting to push you.

But when you show up on his doorstep, eyes rimmed red, and lips quivering as you mumble, "She wouldn't stop yelling," he won't lie and say he didn't see it coming.

But he lets you in anyways, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"Hush now, stop crying. Why don't you sit down and tell ol' Logan about it, hm?" He soothes you, like he would a bird with a broken wing.

He listens to you explain how you came home exhausted and how your parents wouldn't stop nitpicking you for the smallest things, and kept talking over you, never let you get a word in, guilt tripped you, and you're trying, Logan, you really are, but it's never enough.

He'd soothe you so gently too, calloused hands pushing hair out of your face and rubbing tears off your cheeks as you speak, listening to you talk.

He'd be such a good hugger too, letting you curl into his side and cry your heart out, stroking your hair, pressing kisses to your temple. He'd hold you tight, arms like a weighted blanket.

He wouldn't fix things, not unless you ask him to, and he'd just listen. Chiming in with a "Motherfucker!" Or "That son of a bitch said what?". It'd make you giggle, just a little through the tears, and that makes it all the more better.

He'd tell you he knows you're trying, knows you're doing your best, knows that you'll get through this, and he'll be there for you all the way.

#logan wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #logan howlett drabble #logan howlett x chubby reader #old man logan x reader

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mcflymemes · 1 year ago

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THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT - THE ANTHOLOGY BY TAYLOR SWIFT PROMPT LIST * assorted lyrics from the album, some lines slightly adapted for meme purposes but feel free to adjust as necessary

even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you.

trust me. i can handle a dangerous man.

i love you. it's ruining my life.

does it feel all right to not know me?

i am who i am 'cause you trained me.

quick. tell me something awful.

i loved you the way that you were.

we were just kids, babe.

i can fix him.

you and i go from one kiss to getting married.

you said i'm the love of your life.

way up there, i actually love it.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

do you hate me?

did you think i had it in me?

what if i told you i'm back?

i still miss the smoke.

i'm not trying to exaggerate, but i think i might die if it happened.

you look like stevie nicks.

it's hell on earth to be heavenly.

i still can't believe it.

this happens once every few lifetimes.

didn't you hear? they called it all off.

it's happening again.

my friends say it isn't right to be scared.

i might just die.

fuck you if i can't have us.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

no one's ever had me... not like you.

stay away from her.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

i don't think you've changed much.

that's where i was when i lost it all.

life was always easier on you than it was on me.

i hoped you'd return.

do you believe me now?

what if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

what are the chances you'd be downtown?

is it something i did?

oh, we must stop meeting like this.

they say what doesn't kill you makes you aware.

i'm not a donor, but i'd give you my heart if you needed it.

looking backwards might be the only way to move forwards.

the story isn't mine anymore.

what a charming saturday!

none of it is changing.

wild winds are death to the candle.

one bad seed kills the garden.

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

this place made me feel worthless.

i didn't want to come down.

everything had been above board.

blood's thick, but nothing like a payroll.

you can mark my words that i said it first.

the professor said to write what you know.

all of this to say, i hope you're okay.

your words are still just ringing in my head.

i built a legacy which you can't undo.

who do i have to speak to to change the prophecy?

the effects were temporary.

no, i'm not coming to my senses.

babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

i guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.

thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.

you're a professional.

long may you reign.

you're an animal. you are bloodthirsty.

now i seem to be scared to go outside.

i don't believe in good luck.

i hate it here.

if i'd been there, i'd hate it.

only the gentle survived.

i'm lonely, but i'm good.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

are you still a mind reader?

let it once be me.

i haven't decided yet.

i still dream of him.

i'm so afraid i sealed my fate.

it was always the same searing pain.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

it wasn't a fair fight or a clean kill.

she used to say she wished that you were dead.

tell me all your secrets.

they tried to warn you about me.

you're in terrible danger.

i'm the life you chose.

yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.

no one asks any questions here.

tell me i'm despicable. say it's unforgivable.

i'm running back home to you.

you should see your faces.

you knew the price going in.

was any of it true?

who the fuck was that guy?

i don't ever want you back.

did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?

you don't get to tell me you feel bad.

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

am i allowed to cry?

there's no such thing as bad thoughts. only your actions talk.

they're going to crucify me anyway.

i know i'm just repeating myself.

that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

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mysterious-adventurer · 5 months ago

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I'd Never Forgive Myself - Liam Mairi x Reader

A/N: Hi everyone! I just finished reading Fourth Wing and I was absolutely devastated by what happened to Liam. Naturally I had to write a fix it fic. The reader's dragon's name is Silah, I picture her as a blue swordtail but feel free to picture her as your favorite dragon. I hope you enjoy reading this!

Summary: At the Battle of Resson y/n realizes that Liam's life is in danger and makes a risky decision to save him. Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort.

Please do not repost.

TW: Descriptions of battle.

My heart is pounding in my chest. Liam is hanging onto Tairn for dear life and Deigh is fighting for his against the wyvern that is trying to tear him to shreds. Deigh isn't winning this fight, and he doesn't stand a chance on his own. I can see the moment Violet realizes that Liam's life is in danger. I see her urge Tairn to fly faster, but they aren't close enough, they'll never reach Deigh in time. But I'm closer, Silah and I can make it, I know we can. We have to because I can't lose Liam. Not before I've worked up the courage to tell him - no, not going there. With all of my focus on saving Liam, I feel a rush a magic as a vision takes over. I see myself getting as close the wyvern as possible and then leaping from Silah's back onto the wyvern, I see myself plunging my sword into the weak spot between two scales at the base of its neck. Then, I'm pulled back to the present. I know how to save Liam's life; I just have no clue what it will cost me.

"y/n! Don't even think about it! You're going to get yourself killed!" Silah roars in my mind.

"I'm not just going to stand by and watch Liam die when I can save him! I'd never be able to forgive myself."

"There has to be another way!"

"You and I both know there isn't" I stand as Silah gets closer to the wyvern preparing myself for the leap. Silah growls unhappily but says nothing else. As ruthless as she is, she has learned that I am every bit as stubborn and that there is no stopping me once I've made up my mind. Then, just at the ideal moment, the one I saw in my vision I leap from Silah's back onto the wyvern.

The wyvern screeches angrily in response but does not tear its focus from Deigh. I can feel that the magic controlling it is so strong that it cannot abandon its mission to toss me off its back, even though it wants to. I try my best to balance carefully and move as quickly as possible up the wyvern's back to reach its neck. The vulnerable spot is exactly where I knew it would be. A small gap between two scales where the base of the wyvern's neck meets its back. Under normal circumstances I might not have paid any attention to it, but right now I know that this small chink is about to change everything. I can see Deigh struggling more and more with each passing second. I draw my sword and drive it down into the wyvern with all my might. The creature lets out a horrendous screech but lets go of Deigh. I see him land safely nearby as he begins healing his wounds with magic. The wyvern tosses its head back attempting to snap at me as it shifts its full focus onto killing me. When it realizes it can't reach me that way it bucks violently and then I am weightless.

I feel myself plummeting towards the ground at an alarming speed and I know that I am going to die. At least Liam will be alright I think to myself as I close my eyes and try to accept my fate. Then my fall is broken suddenly, jarring every joint in my body. I hear the beat of wings above me and then nothing...

-Later-

When I come to again, I'm lying in a warm, comfortable bed. I slowly blink the blurriness out of my eyes in an attempt to adjust to the bright sunlight streaming in from the other side of the unfamiliar room. I sit up trying to get my bearings.

"You're awake"

I turn to see Liam as he stands from a chair beside my bed. Without hesitation I launch myself out of the bed and into his arms.

"Liam! Are you okay?" for just a moment he holds me close to his chest, but then to my surprise he pushes me away.

"I'm fine, but what the hell were you thinking y/n?" his eyes are clouded with emotion, but his voice is heavy with anger and the muscles in his jaw are tense. I've never seen Liam angry with anyone before.

"That wyvern was going to kill Deigh and if he had died, you would've too, I couldn't just stand by and let that happen."

"I'm grateful, but I don't ever want you to risk your life for me again."

"Liam, I don't understand why you're so upset," for a moment we just stand there, inches apart, staring at each other, tension crackling like electricity between us. Then, Liam grabs my face and kisses me - hard. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, running my fingers through his short cropped blonde hair as I deepen the kiss. It should be impossible, but in that one kiss I can feel all of the pent-up emotions and unspoken words we've both carried with us for months.

The kiss seems to last forever, both of us lost in each other, in what we've been holding back from, but finally we break apart our chests heaving. Liam rests his forehead against mine and his eyes are soft now filled with adoration.

"If anything, ever happened to you y/n, I'd never forgive myself. Please don't scare me like that again."

"Please don't give me a reason to."

His lips are on mine again, gentler this time, less urgent as we both savor what we thought we'd lost forever.

#myst writes #Fourth Wing #Iron Flam #Liam Mairi #Liam Mairi x reader #Liam Mairi x y/n #Liam Mairi Imagine #Liam Mairi fluff #Liam Mairi angst

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boredpotate · 4 months ago

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Happier Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any links. I only own the concept idea to this story and the story itself.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but it has unforeseen consequences.

Reader Pov

"MMMMPPPHHH!!!" I let out a muffled yell of pain. One of my kidnappers stomping on my braced leg; the leg brace being broken a while ago with some of the parts being bent or broken off.

I tried to escape, I really did, but that blow to the head really isn't me doing me any favors. They snuck me back down here to the deep end of the Undercity and once far enough away, they started their "payback" in some fucking dead end alleyway. Taking turns punching, kicking, slapping and just overall beating me to a pulp.

"Hey! Remember not to mess her up too much. We won't get paid if you break the merchandise" The woman who I determined as the boss of the rest of the group.

"Oh c'mon! We did this to get payback didn't we!?" one guy says as he kicks me on the ground as a heave for breathe.

"Yes, we did. We also all want to make an actual pay from this right?," their boss says and I can only guess the others agree, "Then we can't fucking kill her! We fuck her up, let her have what has been coming for a long time and then get paid. After that we can start making big moves down here, especially after this bitch is stuck in recovery." she says as she grabs my hair and lifts my head up to show them my state before throwing me back into the dirty alleyway floor.

"Fine. Still gonna have our fun though." Someone says kicking me in the back, the bruises that were already beginning to form from earlier assaults making the pain much worse.

I feel emotions rising again, but I don't shed tears for them. That would just make them happy. Instead I hold out and hope for this to be over soon; for the pain to just stop already. But a part that I try to bury down still sticks to my mind. A part of me that fears that this won't end, that they won't stop, they'll get carried away or change there minds.

'What if I die here?' the thought runs through my head as someone else decides to join in and get their hits in. The pain not getting any better, and only escalating as I scream out from behind my bindings.

"AAAAMMMMMPPPHHH!!!"

Powder Pov

"So what is it you wanted to talk about?" Ekko asks as we dance together as the music plays and people party and mingle around us.

"Two things. First, Y/n and I talked and she said some things that really touched me and open something up in me. So, I want to present the power cell with you. As partners, like you said you wanted to; before I walked off on you like a bitch. Sorry about that by the way." I say, feeling a little guilty now that I think back on when Ekko first asked me and I got upset at him.

"Really!? That's great! And you don't have to apologize for being upset. You were going through some things. We all do. But are you sure? You really want to do this with me?" he asks which makes me smile.

"Yes. I really do. I-I don't want to be stuck. I was scared of messing it all up and screwing things up for you too. I thought I would fail at it all..... but then Y/n talked to me. I'm still scared, but if I fail, I want to work through it. I wanna push forward and keep trying. I want to do that with you, Ekko." I admit, and he smiles and we lean into each other and have an intimate moment together on the dance floor.

Ignoring a random whistle and comment towards us from someone who is probably drunk as shit, even though the party just started.

We pull apart and continue dancing; holding each other close and I feel a weight be lifted off my shoulders. Finally feeling..... free.

"You don't know just how happy that makes me Powder. I promise you won't regret it," he says with determination in hus voice making me smile at his steeled resolve, "And the second thing?" He asks, making me a little nervouse.

"Right. So y'know how we said we would talk about our "thing" with Y/n tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Why?" he asks as he furrows his brows.

"Well when Y/n talked with me she said some things that were really touching and meaningful and then something inside me was just like 'Oh shit. I love her,' sooooo I may have kiiiiiiisssed heeer" I say as I shrink back slightly, afraid that he will be mad.

"......Okay." he says casually which makes me stunned and we stop dancing.

"Wha?"

"Okay. Surprisingly, I'm not mad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Usually I would, but this is Y/n we're talking about. We both know we have a "thing" for her, and I honestly don't mind," he explains making me relax more as I hold his hands, "Is that weird?" He asks and I take a moment to genuinely think on it before answering.

"No, at least, I don't think it is. Even if it were the other way around, I don't think I would be mad either. As long as it's her," I say as I think back on those beautiful words that Y/n let spill from her lips. Her soft lips, "She makes me feel a certain way. Just like you. She brings something out of me that I didn't know was there." I say, and I hear Ekko chuckle.

"I know. She's also kind." "Caring too." "Loves Isha." "Always wants to help." "Cute too." "More like hot as fuck."

We bounce off of each other as we list the things we have grown to love about Y/n in just a month of knowing her. I smile and think back fondly on all the times we spent with Y/n and Isha. Just living life happily together.

"I love her, Ekko."

"I love her too." He says and we both stand there, two idiots in love with someone and wanting to bring her into our lives.

"You think.... You think she might feel the same way?" I ask him with hope in my voice.

"I don't know. You're the one who kissed her. You tell me." he says with a laugh.

"Well she didn't push me away, but she also didn't kiss back, although I think that's mostly because she was in shock. You should have seen her face."

"I got a glimpse of it when you two came back. Looked like her brain was fried" he says and we both laugh a little at that, "Since we're on the topic; how was it? The kiss?"

"It wa-"

"Hey you two!" I am interrupted by being pulled into a tight hug by none other than my sister Vi.

"Hey sis." I say in a strained voice.

"Happy you made it." Ekko says, his voice also strained and I see Cait shaking her head over Vi's shoulder.

"Of course we made it! This is a big night! Sevika's here too, but she went straight to the bar for a drink." Vi says as she somehow squeezes us tighter.

"Sweetie, you're gonna kill them if you hold them any tighter," Cait says, making Vi let go and take a step back, "You two looked like you were in a good mood. I'm guessing the energy cell was a success?" Cait asks.

"You know it. I already have it on display and ready for Powder and I to present to investors and the judges." Ekko says, making Vi perk up at the mention of my name.

"Together?" Vi asks, and both she and Cait look towards me expectantly so I give them a nod, making them both brighten up more, "That's great! Amazing! So are you two are going into this as partners?" Vi says excitedly making me smile at her encouragement.

"Of course. It's like what Y/n said. We're gonna rattle the stars." I say as I think back on those beautiful words that reached and touched such a deep part of me.

Suddenly I feel something ram into my lower back, almost throwing me off balance, begore quickly turning aroundto see Isha in a new frilly dress. Looking very happy.

"Isha! Look at you! When did you become royalty?" I ask as I kneel down to get a better look at her and she does a twirl to show off her dress to us.

"I didn't know Isha was a princess. Cupcake, why didn't you say anything?" Vi says jokingly and get's a pinch on her arm.

"I'm not a princess, and my family isn't royalty. We just collected a lot of influence over all of the years." Cait defends herself.

"So, basically royalty then." Ekko says, making the rest of us chuckle as I pick up Isha, and Caut sighs in defeat.

"Ekko! Powder! There you guys are, I've been looking for you two," I hear and turn to see Mylo and he does a double take at Vi and Cait, "Oh, hey! Good to see you two made it."

"What did you need?" I ask.

"Just wanted to let you know there's already some high profile looking people eyeing your energy cell, if you wanted to leave some early impressions on some investor's before the competition. Claggor is already showing off our plant. See?." he says as he points in a direction and we see Claggor showing off their invention to some people.

"Shouldn't you be with him?" Ekko asks and Mylo burshes it off and blows a rasberry.

"That's more of Claggor's thing. I'm better off mingling with the ladies." he says smugly and obviously eyeing at Gert on stage.

"You're such an idiot" I say as I shake my head, before feeling Ekko grab my hand as Vi tries to give him some advice on what not to do with women.

"Wanna make an impression?" Ekko asks and I look at Isha who nods her head happily.

"That looks like a yes. But first; hey sis! Cait!," I call to them and grab their attention, "Can you ask Y/n to meet us at Ekko's display? She helped us make it too, so I want her to be there when we show it off. That's fine, right?" I ask Ekko and get a nod.

"No problem! Where is she amyway? You four Are usually always hanging out together." she says with implication in her voice.

"She was sitting at the bar the last time we saw her. She should still be there," I say before adding on more thing, "And if she looks like she's in shock or contemplating something. That's fine. Just send her our way." I say we start walking away to where I would presume Ekko's display is.

"Don't worry, we'll find her." Cait says reassuringly before we start heading to the power cell; it already having people inspecting it.

"You ready?" Ekko asks me and I nod.

"Always."

Caitlyn Pov

"Can you believe it, Cupcake? Powder is gonna present with Ekko! She's finally gonna get out there and show off to the world." Vi says excitedly. Which I understand completely considering all the times I've heard about Powder holding herself back.

"She looked happy. I wonder what made her so confident to try now?"

"I'm willin' to bet it's her and Ekko's latest eye candy," Vi says with a smirk, "Those two are lovesick if you ask me." she says as we look for the girl in question around the bar area.

'Who would've thought an investigation would lead to a new addition of our family and friends.' I think back to just a month ago when we first met Y/n in this bar. I was slightly scared of her then, but afterwards she showed a much mofe gentle side of her. One that cared and laughed.

"Vi! Cait! It's good to see you two made it!" Vander calls out as he finishes serving a handful of people.

"Of course we made it. We wouln't miss such a big night." Vi says as we approach the counter.

"I saw you two lookin' around the bar. Somethin' wrong?" he asks sounding concerned.

"Nothing at all. We were just looking for Y/n. Powder and Ekko want her there with them to present their power cell, and said she should be here. Probably in an unusual state too, but Powder said that's fine." I explain to get rid of his worries.

"Oh, good. Don't need trouble on such a goon night. Last I saw she looked freaked out about somethin' before going out the back door for a breather. Though I don't know where she went afterwards, Silco and I got busy once the party started kickin' up."

"Thank you. We'll go check to see if she's still out there." I say as I glancs at Vi and nod towards the door, before making our way there.

Once outside and in the alleyway that the door leads to, we do a quick scan around to see if she's here.

"Damn. Not here either. You don't think she got drunk and wandered off do you?" Vi asks me with some worry in her voice.

"No. Vander would have told us if she drank. I also don't think he would have let her out here on her own is she was drunk."

"That's true. He wouldn't risk that on any of us." She says as she goes deeper into the alley to see if she might be nearby, and I head the opposite way towards the main street.

As I walk, I suddenly hear a small wet sound when I take a step.

'It didn't rain today.'

I take a step back and look down before kneeling to get a closer look. My eyes widen slightly at what I knew was blood. My shoe making a print of it and some drops of it surrounding the area I stepped

"You got something over there Cupcake?" Vi asks, but I don't respond. Trying not to panic.

'It could be from anything.' I thought before spotting something familiar laying near a trash bin.

"Cupcake? You okay?" Vi asks now behind me, but I get up and quickly walk towards the object and pick it up. My eyes widening.

Y/n's helmet. No doubt about it with the bunny ears Isha drew on it. It's dented in the back and I turn back to Vi, her now leaning down inspecting the blood before looking up at me and her eyes widen in fear just like my own at the helmet before looking into my eyes. We have a wordless conversation through our eyes before rushing back inside.

Y/n was in danger.

Powder Pov

"With this, it should produce a much more effecient power cell. Both for long-term use and energy efficiency. We...." Ekko continues to explain to people that have shown interest in the energy cell. It's been going great. Isha seemed to like the attention when we mentioned how she along with Y/n helped us with putting it together. Speaking of.

'Where is she?'

It shouln't be taking this long for Vi and Cait to find her. Unless Y/n herself didn't want to come, but they would have told us if Y/n refused.

I take a glance around the bar and try to see if I can spot her when I see Vi and Cait rushing in through the back door, not caring to close it. I see them rush over to the bar and immediately grabbing Dad, Silco, Sevika and Benzo's attention, as I see fear on their faces. My heart starts beating faster at their expressions and only get's worse when I see the other three's expressions go from shocked to fear.

I hold Isha closer at that and tighten my hold on Ekko's hand and give it a tug to the side.

"Um, could you give us one second?," Ekko asks them before stepping aside with Isha and I, "Powder, what's wrong?" he asks and I only nod towards the bar and he looks to see what I see. Isha noticing as well.

We move forward to try and get a better look at what's happening through the crowd, and I spot something in Cait's hands. Something I recognize immediately as we get a better angle.

"Y/n's helmet." Ekko says for me with with worry in his voice.

I see a dent in the back of it and look up and see that Cait has spotted us. She doesn't need to say anything for me to know what happened. I can see it in her eyes.

Y/n was attacked, and by her absence took also her.

'Someone kidnapped Y/n.'

Something inside me awakens at that thought. I don't care. Y/n was taken away. We need to get her back.

I need her.

We need her.

Reader Pov

How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? I don't know. All I feel is pain and exhaustion as I lay limp in a dirty alley. I tried to grt away from it all and dissasociate, but the pain is too much. My throat feels strained from all the yelling and screaming.

"Alright! I think that's enough. We gotta move before someone finds us here," Their boss says, but I feel a foot apply weight on my braced leg. I only groan in pain as I am too tired and in too much pain to scream, "I said enough! Anymore and you'll kill her."

"And!? This bitch has had this coming for a long time!" The man from earlier yells out.

"Because then we can't get paid, remember? We got our payback; now we get paid." Their boss says again.

"I say we off her here and now. Bitch deserves it." A different woman says and I hear some murmurs of agreement from the others.

"Are you guys crazy!? We do that and the enforcers will come down on us harder than they already are now!" Their boss says, trying to regain authority, but it doesn't sound like it's going well.

"She's the reason why they're hitting us as hard as they're in the first place! What happens after she recovers and comes for us!?" the other woman says, getting more murmurs of agreement.

"I say we send a message." I hear the guy from earlier say. I start panicking as I see someone hand him my shovel that was taken off of me and start walking towards me.

"Hey! This is not the plan!," Their boss tries to step in front of me to stop him, but is blocked by others and moved aside, "Are you guys serious!? If you do this we're fucked!"

I try to get up to run or fight. To at least do something, but I'm too tired and in too much pain. I can only hardly push myself up with my arms before being stomped on my back.

'This is it? Dead in a fucking alleyway?,' I thought as I am kicked to roll over on my back. The others all cheering the man on as he steps over me, 'Maybe this is the cost? Time letting me face the consequences of my actions,' I barely stare up at the man as he lifts my shovel high over his head. Ready to bring it down onto me, 'As long as they live.' I try to accept, but then the memories come running back to me.

Talking with Vander, Silco and Benzo.

Listening to Heimerdinger play toons on the street.

Messing around with Claggor and Mylo.

Having tea with Cait and Vi.

Sevika showing her tough love.

Going out with Powder, Ekko and Isha.

Talking, laughing, caring and living.

'I want to live.'

I move my head last second and the shovel imapcts the ground next to my head and I use as much strength as I can muster curl up and kick him away. I use the force of the kick to roll over onto my feet and try to run in the confusion, but don't make it far. Someone manages to trip me and I fall down again.

"Damn! She still has some fight left in her! Not enough luck though!" The guy says with a laugh as I try to get up, but I get stomped on my leg.

"Stop! If you do this we're done for!" their boss, or maybe former boss, tries again to stop him but is stopped.

I can only look over my shoulder as the man with my shovel stands over me again and raises it high.

'At least I tri-'

*BANG*

"AAAGH Shit!" The man yells as he drops the shovel and blood spills from his hand. I look forward and see Cait and Vi there.

"Drop your weapons now! Or else!," Cait yells out orders, but no one moves. She shoots near one's head and only barely misses, "I'm not asking again! Drop! Them!," she commands them and they follow orders this time, "Back away from her to the end of the alley! Now!" she says and I glance back to see them continuing to follow orders.

I hear Cait and Vi get closer to me and I can only make brief eye contact with Vi before they move to stand between me any kidnappers. I hear people running from where Cait and Vi arrived and look forward again.

"Cait! Vi! What happ-......" I feel a wave of relief go through me as I hear Powder's voice and see Ekko next to her with Claggor and Mylo behind her.

They rush over and untie my restraints before gently turning me over after seeing my state. Powder gently lifts my head to lay it on her lap instead of the cold floor and brushes some hair from my face. I can't help but let tears fall now and cry. I turn myself into her and she holds me close; not too tight because of my bruised body.

"Someone get her gun." Vi says and Ekko is quick to respond and get's it from the floor and brings it back to Powder and I. Handing it to Powder to hold onto.

"Kids! What's goin' on!?," I hear Vander's voice now, rushing towards us and I peak out from my embrace with Powder to see him, Silco and Sevika. Vander is wearing his old gauntlets. They give me concerned looks before staring down the alley at the thugs on the other end, "What happened." Vander says, sounding more like a command than a question.

"They were going to kill her. We got here right before that guy was about to cave her head in." Vi answers and I feel Powder stiffen at that. I feel her hold on me only tighten a little. Not too much to hurt me, but just to have me closer.

"Ekko." She says and no other words are exchanged. He looks over at the thugs, specifically at the one bleeding from his hand before he picks up my shovel from the floor.

He walks forward and before the guy can step back Ekko swings the shovel at him, knocking him to the ground; the others backing away from the sudden outburst.

"Wait! Wai-" he's cut off as Ekko doesn't stop. He keeps beating on the guy on the ground. No one tries to stop him. Not even Cait; who keeps her rifle aimed at the other thugs.

"Wait, he doesn't ha-" I try to protest through a strained voice, but Powder just cradles my head closer to not see what's happening.

"Shhh. It's okay. Don't worry about it. Everythings okay now." she says as I hear the guy's yells and screams and Ekko beating him senseless. I hear bones break, blood leaking and more screams.

"Stop! He's had enough!," I hear their boss say, but Ekko doesn't stop. He ignores her and keeps going. I feel one of Powder's arm loosen and peak out to see the woman go step forward to grab Ekko, "Sto-" *BANG*

I hear a familiar gunshot. Not from Cait. Powder's arm with my gun in hand is extended out towards the woman. Powder shot her. The woman drops dead and I stare in shock at her corpse, before Powder wraps her arm around me to hold me close again. Ekko continuing to beat a man to death; his screams and yells getting weaker. I hear the breaking of bones and blood being spilled. No one stops him.

"Wh- Why did you....."

"It's fine. They deserve it." she says in a certain tone that sounds too familiar. Too much like Jinx.

I'm overwhelmed by emotions. Too much happening for me to know what to do. Eventually Ekko finally stops and I can hear his labored breathes.

"We-We won't resist arrest. We'll go to Stillwater!" I hear a thug says and getting no protests from the others.

"Vander. Y'know what needs to happen right?" I hear Silco ask, "They hurt one of ours. They were going to kill her." he continues in that cold tone I know all too well.

A few seconds goes by before I hear Vander's heavy footsteps walk forward towards where I know Ekko is.

"You're done here, Ekko. Kids! Take her home."

"What!? Dad, they were going to kill her! If Cait and I di-"

"There might be others who might try something Vi. Take her home," Vander says again as Ekko walks over Powder and I, "We'll handle the rest."

"What!? We'll turn ourselves in! We won't bother he-" the voice is cut off by a loud impact.

'What are they doing!?'

"Come on, let's go home." Ekko says as he picks me up gently and I can only get a peak over his shoulder at what is happening. I see another dead body in front of Vander, there head looking like it was caved in. Powder runs a hand through my hair before gently coaxing my head to lean into Ekko.

"Don't worry about them Y/n. Get rest." she says as if there isn't a massacre about to happen.

As we leave Vander, Slico and Sevika in the alley with the rest of the thugs, I can feel my exhaustion taking over. The screams and yells being left in the distance. My eyelids grow heavy before I have no choice but to sleep. Too tired and hurt to fully process anything that is happening.

"It's okay. You're safe now. Just rest. Isha is waiting for you back home." Powder says softly before I finally drift off into sleep.

Hope you enjoyed. And hopefully 2025 is a good year for everyone. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

#arcane au #yandere arcane #yandere arcane x reader #yandere claggor #yandere ekko #yandere mylo #yandere powder #yandere silco #yandere vander #yandere vi

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synthient · 11 days ago

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If Aliss has been alone for 15 days, then she shouldn't still have an unhealed scratch on her arm from when she fell and scraped it in the chaos. Self harm? (And more mirroring?)

The captain was 14 when she left home and joined the forces. Ruby's biomom was 15 when she had her. I assume we're framing the 1st Doctor as a teen (grand)parent by association

Belinda and Mo are casually chatting in front of Aliss without their screens on. We get a shot of Aliss looking anxiously back and forth between them, struggling to read their lips in profile. When Belinda finally looks at Aliss to include her in the conversation ("Have you ever heard of-"), that's when the entity appears for the first time. As some sort of symbol of her resentment/sense of exclusion?

Aliss jumps up, says "Look at me! I'm all clean!" and does a 360 twirl. The soliders flinch and raise their guns, but nothing happens. Does this indicate she has some level of control over the flinging-people power? Or at least that she knows exactly how long someone can be behind her back before it kicks in?

It seems like there might be a pattern where people catch glimpses of the entity at the moments where Aliss's irritation or anger bleeds through? She's definitely putting on a performance of not knowing what happened/what's on her back, and she seems to be playing up the "I just want to go home" thing at least a little for sympathy. Is one of the themes here the performance she has to give of the good, sympathetic, grateful disabled person, and the consequences when she lets her real frustrations show?

Pointed shot of Rogue's ring as the Doctor enhances the "we don't know what it is!" clip. This leads into his realization - "Oh, my old, old head!" Where did the radiation come from, he asks? The planet's star is burnt out, but it used to be an Xtonic star. The Doctor is a star, and a star that's collapsed = a "burnt out" time lord? I'm also reminded of the Psychedelic Sun that turned the Meep evil (another Master mirror).

The soldiers try to form a circle around Aliss to see what's behind her. She pleads with them to stop, but doesn't, say, back up against a wall. When asked "or what?" her face hardens.

Just as the first soldier steps behind her, Aliss grimaces a little, then winces at the scream. She's not thrilled about this, but she's not shocked or horrified either

"Don't go behind Aliss!" "Please don't turn your back on me!" The power kicks in when you enter the point in Aliss's field of vision where she absolutely can't see what you're doing or read your lips. Maybe this isn't some instrinsic "rule" of the entity...but the entity reacting to her emotions about people "going behind her back"? (The thing everyone keeps literally and metaphorically doing?)

"Something came out of the well, and now it's behind me. And they said it was laughing." This is more Master/untempered schism mirroring btw

Belinda is the one who lays out the points on a clock theory. Could Aliss and/or the entity have started following those rules based on her theory? (her narrative? her investment of meaning?) Is that why the 360 turn earlier didn't do anything?

Doomed Soldier Guy declares that they should kill the entity. It's possible that Aliss is so intertwined with the entity that you can't kill one without killing the other. When she says "because if you kill me, it goes behind you," is that a "rule"? Or an improvised self defense?

"And I met something so vile. It had no face. No name. No self." The Doctor has no (consistent) face, no ("real") name, no (fixed) self. Natch the Master. This is still about the Doctor hating what he sees in the mirror

"Clearly bodies have been broken by some kinetic force, manipulated either by Fenly, or by something in collusion with, or in control of her." Doomed Soldier Guy may be an idiot, but he's also right lol

"Either we disprove this story, or we meet the enemy." It's all about the story that's being crafted around these events, and proven or disproven

The power activates again not at the moment we see the volunteer step behind her, but at the moment we see Doomed Solider Guy step directly in front of Aliss. His pose suggests that he was going to shoot through her to get to the entity

The resulting massacre is edited chaotically enough that it's not always clear how people are getting behind her back (whether they moved there or she turned slightly), or even if they were directly behind her. This probably mirrors the characters' experience - they assume The Rule is being followed, but in all the chaos, how could they be sure? Then the captain tells Aliss to turn 180 - finally giving her "permission" to weaponize it against the guy who actually threatened her

"But...it's not my fault." "I know," the Doctor says. Aliss nods a little too eagerly, and her expression looks more like she's assessing whether he believes her

"I'm sorry. You're contaminated." "You are diseased," is what the Master got when the time lords refused to take him to safety with them. "But...my daughter!" Missy's daughter, the My Daughter Died And I Forgot arc, etc

The Doctor says "she's not leaving this planet. Not with that thing," and Aliss actually rolls her eyes mid sob. I think another element here is the idea that Aliss isn't neatly separable from her shadow self, her negative emotions, her willingness to kill if it's the only way out of here - but it's easier for the Doctor, if he can draw a hard line between the sympathetic victim and the monster

"Don't turn your back on me. Please don't turn your back on me." Apart from everything else, if that's not the Master @ the Doctor...

When the Doctor tries to address "the thing behind Aliss Fenly...my old friend," we keep getting shots of Aliss's confusion and then exasperation. Again, there's no neatly divisible thing behind me - you're talking to me. I am your friend.

"It knows my name." And the Doctor smiles as he cries. If the entity is a mirror - of Aliss, and now of the Doctor - then he's talking to himself. He's seeing what he wants to see: that the monster is still his old friend, still knows him more intimately than anyone else.

And that, of course, is when the Doctor realizes that "the way out" is to use a mirror

He switches from talking to Aliss to the thing behind her again - "you stone cold murderer" - and Aliss gives a wry smile.

"What if the thing behind you...is you?" YES. IT IS.

"It broke all the mirrors," so they assume mirrors are the Secret Kryptonite. Aliss broke all the mirrors. Days after the massacre. She still had the open wound from the mirror shards. She didn't want to look at herself.

Aliss smiles just before the "mirror" closes behind her. And then the kinetic force gives her a nice gentle shove forward into the Doctor's arms, so they can all run away together.

And as people have already noticed: Aliss mouths "thank you" to the Doctor from the airlock, her eyes are dead, the lights on her helmet are out, and the wrong number of people are on the monitor.

imo, I don't think this indicates Aliss was "just" possesed, or dead all along - anymore than the Master is.

There's a kinetic force blast just after Aliss leaves. This is the point where maybe another entity has made itself known? Or maybe Aliss just took one small piece of the entity with her, and the rest of it was still there? Or...as long as there's still someone left to look in the mirror (so to speak), a new entity can still be born from their reflection (give form to their shadow self, their darkest impulses)?

Mo is the first to insist that "It's not me." Belinda can hear the whispers, so they assume it's her...but the Doctor could hear the whispers from Aliss's shadow. The whispers were probably it trying to birth a new shadow from his psyche - that's how it knew his name. Belinda only heard Mo's shadow whispering.

(I think Mo's reaction shots in this scene also imply that she secretly suspects it's her, and she's staying quiet/letting Belinda take the fall out of fear)

And everything from that point on is pointless. They assume the answer is self harm - shooting Belinda, the captain killing herself. Aliss self harmed, and it didn't help. You can't carve your shadow self out of you, can't kill yourself into not having a dark side.

...Not that that's gonna stop the Doctor from trying 😜🤙

#(sorry for the color coding lol. think that was the biggest discovery here & it'd get lost in the wall of text otherwise)#doctor who #the well #doctor who spoilers

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ihavethedreamiesx · 8 months ago

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Versace Royal | Hyunjin [NSFW]

Hwang Hyunjin - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.2k

Pairing: Idol! Hyunjin x Idol! Older! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Request, Idolverse, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Shower Sex, Unprotected Sex (Not Recommended)

Summary: Hyunjin and you are both international ambassadors for Versace and the rumors are put to rest when you announce you are both officially dating at a Versace event.

Author's Note: Got a request for this! I'm so happy that one of you liked my stuff enough to want me to write something for you!

Also I am working on the historical AU still, but I'm low-key working for my uncle doing something so...

P.S. I would have had this done and up earlier today, but I had to watch the Chiefs game even though I only watch for Pacheco (#10) and he got a broken leg.

Also, Winwin is in this! Just briefly, I like to wiggle him in where I can.

Revised (1/31/25) - I forgot to change the name to (Y/N), so I fixed it!

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

"Shit," you grumble to yourself, looking in the mirror and scrubbing over your tooth with your finger to get the lipstick stain off.

"Here." Your stylist shuffles over to fix the error and as you hold still for her, your eyes flit over to Hyunjin. He is sitting in an armchair of the dressing room you two had been assigned, scribbling on his tablet. He doesn't have the jacket of his outfit on yet, sitting in just his tank top. Your eyes can't help but trace over his exposed arms, then back up to the slight furrow of his brow, the frown marring his beautiful face. Your stylist pulls back, and she helps you get the dress you are to wear over the full-piece shapewear you have on.

"You don't need this you know," your stylist whispers and you shrug.

"I just wear it like a slip, I can't risk someone else trying to shoot up my skirt again." You look at yourself in the mirror, not really loving your hair. It’s pulled back into a tight low ponytail, and it makes your facial features look too harsh.

"Sorry," the other woman whispers as she touches up your makeup. Your eyes flit to Hyunjin again, his hair slicked back in a similar manner, but it looks good on him.

"Uh." His voice brings your attention back to him from your reflection in the mirror, a ding coming from his tablet.

"What?" You don't bother hiding the apprehension in your voice.

"People already know we're here together." He sighs and you roll your eyes, so hard you worry you messed up your mascara.

"Not too surprising, we were on the same plane." You shake your head and when it’s determined you are ready, the stylist moves on to Hyunjin.

"I don't wanna~" He whines, begrudgingly getting up from the armchair to sit at the vanity. As he shuffles toward you, you smile at his bored look.

"Hold on." He pauses you and so you halt, and he brushes something off the shoulders of your dress, then runs his hand over your smoothed hair.

"Careful, someone might think we're dating." You try to hide your smile.

"We are dating." His deadpan tone nearly makes you ruin your lipstick, but you halt your mouth before you stick your tongue out like you had planned. Taking his place in the armchair, you can't help but glance at his still-on tablet. The article is open, and the title makes you sigh.

"The Prince and Princess of Versace?" It seems the name has left the K-Fanbase and spread to the international fashion press. It makes you two seem more like brother and sister if you are the 'heirs' of Versace though. The article is topped with a picture of both of you with Donatella, but you two aren't in matching clothes in that one like you will be today. Clicking your tongue, you grab the device and are about to look and see if there are any more articles, but you notice his drawing app open. Looking up at him glaring at himself in the mirror, setting his intense expression for the night, you open it, the image making you coo.

"You're drawing me?" You laugh at the glare he sends to you then.

"I always draw you." Hyunjin huffs and you giggle, wiggling in your chair and continuing to look at the news. Finding another article along the same lines, you drift down to the comments, and your heart falls. Not only are there a bunch of his fans bashing you for what seems like just standing next to him, even your fans are being mean too.

'He doesn't deserve her. She should date an actor.'

'He's the tallest in SKZ, but she still doesn't have to wear heels with him.'

'There's tons of other celebs and models there she could get, why go for another idol? Take some steps up girl.'

"I'm suing." You sneer.

"Stop reading comments." Your boyfriend scolds and you sniff but relent.

"Don't wrinkle that, please, (Y/N)." The stylist then scolds you as well and you adjust your posture. A knock on the door prompts a grunt from the man and a hum from you and his manager pokes his head in the room.

"Donatella wants a photoshoot before the event." He announces and you sigh. Makes sense. Your stylist hurries up her task and you help her adjust and tweak Hyunjin's outfit once he gets it on.

"Careful, people might think you like me or something." He teases you and you pinch him through the fabric of his tank top, and he yelps, making you giggle.

"Well, maybe I do…"

"Don't kiss him!" the stylist snaps and you halt. Yeah, red on his mouth would be a little too obvious, and she would have to fix both of yours makeup as well.

"If some influencer tries to flirt with you, I'm going to scream," he grumbles, his face still close to yours, also a bit cranky he can't kiss you.

"Same. But we just pretend I don't know English," you shrug playfully.

"You spoke with Donatella in English in the last video, good luck with that." You swear under your breath, finally letting go of his jacket, its gold and black fabric matching your dress. Moving to go around him and start to leave the dressing room, he grabs your wrist, pulling you back to him.

"No, no, come here one sec." He hauls you even closer, pressing you to him, nose barely grazing yours. His eyes meet yours and the sharp look makes you swallow hard, and the corner of his mouth twitches before he controls it.

"Don't fucking wrinkle it!" The stylist more or less pulls him away from you and runs her hands over both of your garments to make sure they are fine.

"Go, and don't stop in a closet on the way!" She shoves you both out to be led away by your managers.

~θωθ~

"Can you put and rest your arm on her shoulder, like with your elbow bent?" The shoot director motions and Hyunjin follows suit, his forearm laying on your shoulder.

"Good!" You’re glad that modeling shoots don't want you to smile like all the pictures your mother takes when you go home for Chuseok. Having him lean a bit on you makes it harder to balance your own pose, legs crossed, all weight laying on one leg. You are in short heels, but they are still thin, and it makes it harder to stay steady.

"Careful." Hyunjin whispers in your ear, feeling your body shake a bit and he relaxes the pressure he is putting on you. You both follow the prompts of the director while the photographer continues shooting.

"What if we go with the prince and princess idea?" Your eyes flit to Donatella, urging her with your gaze to shut up. She smiles playfully and your nose twitches.

"Like?"

"Get that chair, no, the fancy one!" The designer herself motions, and some staff start to move in a black velvet chair, and she comes onto the set. She sits in the chair and then the director gets the hint. You’re both directed to stand behind and to the side of the chair, your hands on the back, postures straight. Just like the heirs to a queen.

"You saw that article?" You ask her when the shoot is done, and she smiles.

"Let's get going to the event now, I can be late but you two can't." She leaves to attend to who-knows-what and you give Hyunjin a look and he huffs a laugh.

"(Y/N), Hyunjin." Your manager waves you over, his is on the phone.

"What?" He spoke in a hushed tone, so you do too.

"The company wants you to announce your relationship tonight. They want to get ahead of the rumors."

"Tonight?" You hiss. There is no time to prepare, and the comments are already tearing both of you to shreds. The older man shrugs and finally Hyunjin's manager gets off the phone.

"We're going to work with a few reporters that are here for Korean magazines, and they'll do a more or less scripted interview quickly and that'll be it." The other manager informs, and you nod, feeling a bit less nervous. You look at your boyfriend then and he doesn't look fazed.

"What?" You are still whispering.

"Maybe then guys will leave you be?" He is obviously still upset about the influencer that was flirting with you at the last event.

"Are you intimidated by a TikTok model?"

"No, but that doesn't mean I like them trying to get you back to their hotel room." He is talking a little louder than you really wish for him to be, but he is using Korean so…

“You’re getting me back to your hotel room, though~?” You send him a coy look and he rolls his eyes.

“No, we’re going separately, then using the little door that’s in between them.” He wiggles his finger back and forth and you exhale a laugh.

“Let’s just go to the red carpet…shoot…place.” What do you call a red carpet that has no carpet, let alone a red one?

~ò3ó~

You wait to go up to get your photo taken at the Versace logo wall set up outside the runway hall, taking the chance to look around at who else is there. You recognize only a few people, and your heart sinks a little not seeing a very familiar face.

"I thought Sicheng said he's done Versace shows before…" You click your tongue crankily, thinking a group of three is better than just you two. Especially since Winwin is already a friend.

"(Y/N)." Hyunjin's voice catches your attention, and you stride forward to join him at the logo. The official and press photographers take a few pics and then Hyunjin moves on so you can do the solo shots.

"They could've put her in something shorter…" You hear a voice murmur from the next spot in line and you shoot a side glance over to look. Some guys with too-chiseled features and too-greasy hair. Just pretend you don't know English… Just because your last interview with the designer herself was in English doesn't mean everyone has seen it. They’re probably famous or something, but they aren't even in Versace, so they are just guests or the like. After the photographers thank you, you nod a bow and move on, trying not to dash over to your boyfriend.

"Stupid dudebros." You huff, adjusting your ponytail back behind you instead of over your shoulder.

"How old are you, noona?" Hyunjin teases, and you shoot him a look that makes him laugh.

"I'm only a few years older, shut up." You told him not to call you that after you started dating since the other boys, but Chan and Minho, do as well.

"What'd they say?"

"They thought my dress could be shorter."

"Surprised they weren't wanting to see your tits."

"What tits?" You huff, starting to lead him toward the actual runway hall, and he scoffs.

"Just cuz' you're not stacked like Jihyo-noona doesn't mean you have no boobs." He sniffs and you shake your head, finding your designated seats at the side of the runway and sitting down. You adjust your dress and set the bag they gave you along with it in your lap, crossing your ankles to the side. Every time you sit like that you think of the Princess Diaries movie.

"You would know."

"I would know."

"Do you have any idea what the reporters will ask?" You move on, still speaking quietly despite using a language most people likely do not know.

"No." He shoots you a soft glance, "don't worry, we'll handle it together."

Through the fashion show, you try to look genuinely interested, brain still looping on the press interview later.

"Stop looping." Hyunjin bumps you with his elbow as there is a gap between models. You take a deep breath and then let it out, genuinely noting the fabric of the purple dress the next model has on.

~σ×σ~

"You're shaking." Hyunjin wants to just wrap his arm around you, or hug you, he can tell you’re getting anxious. Normally press interviews are fine, but you’re normally with your group, and you aren't the leader, just the eldest…

"I know." You desperately want to bite your thumbnail, that at least eases the strain on your teeth of your clenched jaw. But you have fake nails on and can't ruin them. You two are waiting for the specified reporters to show up and you want to bury and hide in his chest but can't. Even after the announcement you can't, it is too brazen of an act. Like it is muscle memory, when the press shows up, your shaking stops, and you adopt a more even facial expression.

"(Y/N), how do you feel about being called the Versace Princess?" First question. Of course. Your manager gets a look, and he shrinks a bit, and you put on a practiced smile.

"I can't complain being called a Princess." Good.

"Hyunjin?" Same thing.

"Not the first time I've been called a prince."

"You two are matching today, did you know you would be?" The reporter is still looking at him.

"Yes, but I think five other people have the same pattern on." He jokes.

“(Y/N), what is your favorite piece in the show?" A new reporter. You both answer a few more fashion-focused questions for the fashion magazine reporters, then you finally get the first nail-biter.

"There have been rumors going around for a while that you two are dating. Is there any merit?" You look at your manager and he nods.

"Well…maybe," you smile softly, looking down as Hyunjin steps a bit closer.

"We think coming with matching outfits makes that a bit obvious," your boyfriend adds, and the flashes from the cameras increase, drawing even more eyes toward you.

"So, you two are dating?" Deep breaths.

"Yes." The reporters start murmuring, and you believed they knew beforehand, but they clearly didn't. Some are already typing on their phones, and you swallow hard.

"Okay, if there are any more questions, they can be referred to JYP Entertainment." Your managers step in and motion for you two to sneak off and head toward the after party that is in the next building over.

~@u@~

"Oh, thank you." You gratefully take the glass of champagne from the waiter who immediately comes over as you both enter the building for the after party. Hyunjin takes one as well, and you take a sip, then grimace at the taste.

"You've never liked wine." Hyunjin huffs a laugh, and you sneer at him before downing the rest. You set the empty glass on another waiter's tray as he passes and head straight for the food.

"These portions are too small." You grumble, not even knowing what most of the little appetizers are.

"Don't eat that one." Hyunjin stops you, mouth full of something, before you grab what looks like a little sandwich.

"Why?"

"It's not good." He shakes his head, and you end up just grabbing what you hope is a cookie. It tastes like one anyway.

"There you two are!" Donatella's voice catches both of your attention, and you feel immediately calmer with her there.

"So, it’s official? Everyone knows now?"

"You knew we were dating before?" Hyunjin asks her, and she gives him a bored look.

"I just wish we didn't have to be the ones to announce it." You shake your head, looking around nervously.

"Keep an eye on her, some of the guests have been saying some…unsavory things." The designer warns, and you shake your head as she moves on to mingle more. At the last event, there were a bunch of horny internet celebrities, and it seems they are present today as well.

"Hyunjin!" Your boyfriend's manager calls to him, waving for him to come over.

"(Y/N), stay there, it would be suspicious if you both went missing." He tells you and you freeze in place. Watching them leave with wide eyes, you huddle closer to the food table, hoping to appear invisible.

"So, you're a K-pop girl or something right?" You flinch, turning to look at who approached. You can't place his accent, and you have no idea who he is to go off of that.

"Uh, yes. You are…?" You really want a drink but there is only champagne and wine. He tells you his name and when no recognition passes over your face, he scoffs slightly but readopts his ‘charming’ expression.

"So, you know Blackpink?" You try not to roll your eyes, watching him pick something to eat. His suit looks too small for him, and he has an arrogant aura. He crooks an eyebrow with a smolder, and you force a smile.

"Um, no. I don't."

"BTS though, right?"

"Um, no."

"Isn't your friend in BTS?" He motions vaguely to the side and your brow twitches in annoyance.

"No, he's in the group Stray Kids."

"They were at Coachella." He points to you like he figures it out, smirking around his sip of champagne.

"No. That was ATEEZ." You hate dealing with people like him and it seems he is mixing his ignorance with arrogance.

"Were they the ones that had Ryan Reynolds in their music video?"

"Yes." You smile a bit more; actually glad he figured it out.

"What is your group called?" You begrudgingly tell him.

"So, you like sing and dance and stuff."

"Well, um, yes." You look around you, hoping and praying that anyone would come, but mostly Hyunjin or your manager.

"You the leader?"

"No, the eldest."

"How old are you?" He looks you up and down and you wince, feeling nauseated. You feel a familiar presence behind you, and you relax some feeling them. He doesn't say anything, and you turn, slightly surprised to see Sicheng and not Hyunjin.

"I didn't know you were here?" You ask in Korean then and he is staring the guy down. For being so cute and pretty he is good at looking mad.

"We didn't make the runway." He tells you and the other man huffs.

"This your boyfriend then?" He looks at Winwin patronizingly. You roll your eyes.

"No, I am." Both you and Sicheng relax, and the annoying man turns, taking a step away when Hyunjin shoves past him.

"Thanks, hyung." He whispers to Sicheng who nods and takes a few steps away to grab something to eat.

"Is Ningning here?" You turn to him then, letting Hyunjin block you from the jerk.

"No, sorry. Who is that?" He nods at the offender, wrinkling his nose at the food options. You tell him and he shakes his head, having no idea either.

"If you ever want to know what it feels like to really be treated like a woman, Miss (Y/N), I'm always available." He calls around Hyunjin and you hate hearing your name come from him.

“Fuck off.” You hardly ever hear your boyfriend sound this angry; he must’ve learned the tone from Minho.

"Excuse me!" A girl's voice draws everyone's attention and a few younger women who are probably beauty influencers shuffle up with pads of paper.

"Can we get you threes’ autographs?" You’re grateful for the distraction and you each take turns signing for the three girls. The jerky man tries to take the pen next from Hyunjin and one of the fans shoots him a look.

"Who are you?" This puts a hard blow on his ego, and you hold back a laugh, thanking the girls as they trot away.

"He left." Hyunjin sighs, stepping closer to you, pressing his chest to your shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yes. Thank you, oppa." You smile at Winwin, and he smiles back.

For the rest of the after-party, you are able to avoid any more assholes; they seem not to want to come over with both of the K-pop boys with you.

~~~

"I'm so fucking tired." You groan, tapping your keycard against the lock of your hotel room and your boyfriend hums in agreement, entering his own room. The door between the rooms is already open and he ends up just coming to your side and flopping on the bed.

“You’ll wrinkle it.” You warn, and he whines, getting off the bed and immediately strips down to his underwear.

“Jinnie.” You huff in amusement, picking up the garments and when you stand back up from crouching, he’s already wiggled under the blankets. He hadn’t even untucked them from under the mattress. You shake your head, hanging up his clothes in the garment bag, then remove your own piece and add it.

“I’m showering.” You tell him and he doesn’t respond.

“I’m leaving the door unlocked~!” You call and you can hear him wrestle to get out from under the comforter as you laugh. You’ve just let your shapewear fall before he shoves the door open and your back hits the sink counter when he pins you to it. His lips quickly swallow yours, no longer needing to care about the transfer of lipstick. You whine, fingers cascading over the skin of his bare torso, tongue trying to keep up with his. When he pulls away, you take the chance to spin him around and pin him to the counter, laying kisses over his neck and chest, leaving red lip marks all over his skin.

“Wait, (Y/N), you don’t-“ He sighs as you sink to your knees, leaving fainter marks on his tummy. His cock is half-hard, and you palm over it through his boxer briefs, and he grunts. You kiss over the fabric making him nearly whimper, and you whine yourself when you pull his undergarment down, his fully hard cock springing out. You hum, licking your lips, then eagerly suck the tip into your mouth.

“Shit.” Sweat’s already broken on his forehead, and he leans further back to steady himself, the cold marble of the sink making him shiver. When the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat, you use your hands to hold the other half of his cock, bobbing your head. Hyunjin reaches out, managing to find the shower knob and turn the water on, getting it warm. His hand pets over your hair, then tightens, pulling you back. The sting at your scalp makes you shudder in delight, your dazed eyes meeting his sharp ones.

"Get in, face the wall." He pulls you up and you’re glad the shower’s a walk-in. You sigh as the hot water meets your tense shoulders, but you squeak when he joins, pressing his chest to your back. Your breasts press to the still cold wall of the shower, and you squeak as his fingers meet your cunt.

"What got you so wet?" Hyunjin hums in your ear, and you swallow, trying to think of how to get words out.

"W-when you told that guy to fuck off."

"So long ago?" He chuckles, removing his fingers too soon, making you huff. Before you can even think of complaining or pleading for him, he bucks his hips, burying his fat cock in one thrust all the way. Your breath leaves your lungs, the burning sting sending shocks of pleasure up your spine and down your legs. There’s almost no room between you two as he presses even closer, arms wrapping around your middle and holding your hip. He lets you take a few breaths to adjust, kissing your neck, the heat of the water and his cock inside you sets your blood on fire. One of hands moves to cup your breast, kneading the flesh and you whimper.

“These are perfect.” He pinches your nipple, and you squeak, then whimper.

"M-move." You’re nearly up on your tip toes, body wound so tight.

"Oh, fuck!" You gasp as Hyunjin begins fucking you in earnest, not building, battering his cock deep inside you. Your cunt spasms as you gasp for air, fingers not able to find anything to hold onto on the slick wall, cheek pressed to the cold tile.

"You're just perfect, (Y/N). Your pussy was made for me, no one else can have it." His hand splays over your lower tummy, the sensitive skin there twitching under his palm.

"I don't want anyone else to anyway." You manage to get out, his cock kissing your cervix with each roll of his hips.

"Cum for me (Y/N), yeah?" He hums as he feels the familiar clenching of your gummy walls, his fingers rolling over your clit, sending you over the edge. Hyunjin fills you as deep as he can, grinding into you to help you ride your high, trying to fight his own.

"Fuck, please Hyunjin!" You whimper, your orgasm seeming to last for hours.

"Well," he chuckles breathily, "if you insist." He bucks his hips a few more times and you both sigh as his hot cum paints your core white. Panting, you can't tell whether his skin is slick from the water or his sweat, but either way you both needed to actually shower.

"You know, I don't mind being the Prince and Princess of Versace." He tells you softly as you lay in bed together, bundled up in your pajamas. Round two and probably three would occur otherwise and you both need to be up early for your flight.

"No?"

"It's more like Prince William and Princess Kate than us being siblings."

"We're not married, Hyunjin." You huff and he nods sleepily.

"For now..."

Master-List

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inkyspirit · 3 months ago

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My Buddy thoughts based off the final.

I think he used to be human instead of keys are human. I feel like Silver or Bronze would have mentioned being human at some point. Golddie doesn't seem like the sort who could keep that kind of secret even if he wanted to.

(I think their reaction to food is also a clue. The keys eat like they just found the Holy Grail. Buddy eats like he misses the experience of food.)

But why?

Well. Magic. We know magic exists because the keys exist. I suspect perhaps that the villain key was broken, more so then silver was, and ex lib used one of their members or underlings to try and transfer that magic or fix it.

If this happened to Buddy, that would explain the change in key naming standards, and his different apearence to the other keys.

And .... Because of being both a key, and human... Can he both know the plot of stories upon entering AND gather narration?

Is Naratonin even what he and Violet are after?

What about going into books is so hard on Buddy? Why does he feel like he can't keep doing this now that he and Chase have shared a kiss/a relationship?

If he wants to wish himself back to being human, then he needs all the keys, but surely he knows enough about Chase now to know that Chase would help him if he only knew!

And if he was human before, why does Violet care? Why would she want to help him? Assuming he isn't actually her brother, and even if he was, why is turning him back to his human self HER goal?

#cinderella boy #cinderella boy webtoon #cinderella boy punko #stargoth #buddy cinderella boy

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darkwaveho · 7 months ago

Text

Mini Burden

Summary: The aftermath of Natasha doing the unthinkable to her daughter.

Mob!Natasha Romanoff x reader, Mob!Natasha Romanoff x Oc!daughter

Warnings: hurt comfort, angst?, mentions of abuse, mentions of spanking, ptsd?, unpacked truama, fluff?

Previous part

series masterlist

It’s been a week and every day since Natasha has blown up your phone with calls and messages, you've ignored them all. Even blocked her number all together. That didn't stop her from using an unknown number. The last few days you had to shower Anastasia with a lot of tender care. It was a pretty traumatic experience for her. Not used to being on the receiving end of a harsh slap or harsh words can really break you down mentally no matter the age. This memory will forever be burned into your brain, the thoughts of you holding her while she asks why her mama hit her or why did her mama hate her. Her curious mind has questions, and she needs the answers, but the truthful answers are only ones Natasha can give.

Your mind drifts away to these thoughts while you're giving Anastasia a bath. It takes for a flick of warm water to your face for you to come back to reality. You gasp immediately from the contact as Anastasia laughs. “Alright, sweet pea time to get out now.” she immediately hits you with a small, adorable pout. “A few more minutes mommy, please?” she has been in here long enough usually you use the finger prune method for her bath time, and her tiny fingers are way past the pruning stage. You sigh, not really seeing the herm in a few more minutes but you're exhausted. You've been taking Anastasia to school from this hotel, getting her ready, making dinner, breakfast, and lunch. It was a lot on you to do with your mind being elsewhere.

Not only has Natasha been bugging you Yelena has as well, she didn't take up for Natasha, but she also did not fully side with you, she didn't agree with what Natasha did, but she also thinks that you're overreacting for a small pop on the butt. You can't believe you are the only one with sense in this situation in the entire family dynamic. A knock at the door pulls you back out of your mind; you turn back to Anastasia as she waits for your response to her question that you never answered.

“A few more minutes and you’re out princess, I don't want my baby all pruned forever.” you don't shut the bathroom door as you leave out of your room just in case something happens, you're able to be alert and quick. As you make your way to the hotel room door you pause. Contemplating what you were going to do next. You didn't want to cause a scene, but you also don't want to deal with this. Through the peephole you see Natasha standing on the other side waiting patiently for you to open the door. God she can never take a hint and just let things play out, she can never just allow you space and for you to come back on your own after an argument or misunderstanding. Reluctantly you open the door, the immediate change in Natasha's demeanor shows. She’s attempted to straighten up her posture to look more confident, but you see through it. Just taking one look at her you know she’s not her usual self.

“Hey.” Natasha releases a small breath, a relief of seeing your face even if it wasn’t being reciprocated by you. It doesn’t make sense to ask how she found you, you know how. You’d never be able to fully slip away from her no matter how hard you try. You don’t answer her, you simply stare back into her waiting for her to get to the point. Waiting to hear her excuses, apologies, or if she’d spew out more harmful nonsense like she did a few days ago. She looks tired, determined and broken behind her eyes. It’s clear to her that you don’t want to speak to her yet, if at all. So, she gets to the point of her being here.

“I would like to speak with Ana.” her initial response shocks you, she isn't even attempting to coax you into forgiving her first she’s direct about her mission tonight. She's here to fix things with Anastasia first. She’s asking, not demanding. Her ego and her power trip must’ve worn off within those three days of an empty house. you're still not sure about her request. The aftermath of everything took a huge toll on Anastasia. You're not sure how she’ll react to Natasha, if she wanted to see her or if she even felt safe enough to be near her own mother again. Natasha can see you pondering on it; she knows the word ‘no’ is right at the tip of your tongue. So, she does the one thing that she knows will get you to soften up. “Please.”

I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Shake your head and cross your arms as a protective response, this might be too soon of a conversation to have.

“Look I know I said some shitty things to you and about the way you parent. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for questioning your methods and putting blame on you because I didn’t know what to do in that situation or how to handle it.” Your silence is deafening to her. The desperation is real and slowly releasing from her body. “Y/n.” She searches for your eyes. She wants your approval, she needs it. “I just want to talk to her. To see her.”

A heartfelt and genuine apology you can count on one hand how many times you’ve received an apology like that from her. This was different, she struck her daughter. She frightened her and you as well. The moment of contemplation is nearly over. The final judgment is about to come out of your mouth, but warm, sweaty hands take hold in yours but between lies a crumpled texture. When you see the image in your hand the breath you release is involuntary. The painful memories are all coming back. You never wanted to see them again, hell you never wanted to take those photos of her in the first place. Never in a million years did you think that she would open the file. She’s been so good at running away or compartmentalizing her trauma.

It also pains you that she went through this trauma again alone. You want to say more you want to be there for her but you’re not sure if this is the right timing. This is bringing a whole new baggage into Anastasia’s world. A world where someone hurt her mama, a world where not only would she visually see it in her mind but physically on an old Polaroid picture. You can only shake your head hoping to rid yourself of those thoughts.

You clear your throat trying to remain firm on your stance but the sight in front of you makes it hard. Natasha stands in front of you with vulnerable eyes and you’ve noticed the subtle twitch of her fingers the moment you opened the door, all signs of her nervousness and anxiety. “Please.” She pushes again with that word. She’s trying hard not to break down right now; she'll save it for when she’s back home alone drowning in her own darkness. She relieved her past trauma alone in that house for three days with no comfort. The reality of it is you don’t know the reaction your daughter will have. You step back, and from the looks of it Natasha expects you to open the door for her entrance however she’s clearly mistaken when the door slams in her face. She stands there with her mouth gaped and her mind racing with all the ways she could have said something better. How she could have had a better outcome. She snaps out of her own head when the door opens again, this time with more than enough room for entry. “Dramatic much?” She’s snarky as she walks into the room. “Very.” You’re dismissive with her words, she's here to make amends with her daughter, you on the other hand will not be so forgiving, that takes a proper conversation between you two. You swiftly turnaround ignoring the way Natsaha's gaze lingered on your body. “I don't want her seeing that photo.” you point towards Natasha's jacket pocket.

The rim of the polaroid sticking out of her pocket haunts you with memories of your own that you wish to have erased. Natasha takes that as relief, she’s stared at the photo enough the past few days to become sick from it. She wouldn’t want to bring more of her past trauma and dump it on Anastasia anymore than she already has. Natasha nods her head in agreement with you and the award silence and tension fills the room. You quickly find an excuse to exit from being under her gaze. A soft, vulnerable Natasha is a weakness that you fear you will never be able to truly resist. You nod towards the door behind you. “She’s just finishing up her bath.” Natasha nods in understanding knowing how hard it is to get Ana out of the bath sometimes. Natasha grins at the thought but still awkwardly looks around the luxury hotel room doing anything to avoid your gaze. She feels like a guilty puppy right now. “You don’t have to stand, you know.”

“I’m fine.”

“You need to relax, you’re fidgeting Natasha.” She looks down at her fingers and instantly stalls her movements. She hadn’t realized she was doing that. “I’ll be back, sit down Nat.” You nod towards the sofa and leave her with a look that was not up for debate. Natasha sits down and thinks about what she wants to say to her daughter and most importantly how she wants to say it.

“Hey, monster.” Natasha's greeting receives no response, just a blank stare as if the young girl is looking at a stranger. Still Natasha pushes through, not letting the small change in communication deter her from making things right. Under any other circumstances Ana would’ve run into Natasha's arms practically knocking the air out of her but she still remains in her spot standing near you, she hasn't moved an inch or said a word. You and Natasha share a brief look between each other. Natasha clears her throat as she talks to Ana from her spot on the couch.

“Are you enjoying your time with mommy?” silence. You rub Ana's shoulders for comfort letting her know that everything is fine and that she doesn’t have to be guarded. That she's not in trouble. That her mama isn't angry with her. “Ana, mama is speaking to you.” She looks up at you and goes back to Natasha. “Yes.” Natasha briefly smiles before finding something else to continue the conversation. “What did you do today?” Natasha remains hopeful as she studies her daughter's face. She hasn't seen her in days, so she makes sure to take in every little detail. Her brown locks are coiled and damped from her bath. She’s in her favorite dinosaur pajamas that you and Natasha have to hide sometimes just so she can wear her other clothes and she always tops it off with her pink fluffy socks. The brief moment of analyzing is reminding Natasha that her actions can cause this to be a permanent arrangement where she only gets to see Ana on certain days. No longer under her presence 24/7.

“Mommy took me swimming in the big pool today.” Anastasia avoids all eye contact as she plays with her fingers, staring at a spot on the fancy rug. “That’s awesome, that means you've gotten better at your breathing techniques.” Natasha tries to keep the flow of conversation going but she's hit with another wall. An awkward tension. It's clear Ana won't go towards Natasha on her own and the hurt behind Natasha's eyes is too much to bear, so you come up with an excuse. You bend down slightly to gather Ana’s attention as you softly speak to her. “Hey, sweetie, I'm gonna run to the store for your dino nuggets, why don't you go sit with mama and tell her more about your hotel stay.” You gently nudge her forward as a sign to get closer to her mother but before you can even step away your movements are halted by a strong and tiny hand.

“Don’t go mommy.” She clutches on to your hand with a vice grip. The strength of your six-year-old was truly remarkable. The scene in front of Natasha breaks her heart. Her daughter was afraid of being left alone with her; she's scared of Natasha. It's taking everything in herself to not cry, to not stand up and leave, ultimately accepting this now tarnished mother daughter relationship. “It's going to be okay Ana; I won’t be long I promise.” That does nothing for the grip she has on you. She tugs your sleeve a little more silently begging for you to come closer to her. She looks back to Natasha on the couch and back to you as she lowly whispers in your ear.

“I don't want mama to get mad at me again.”

“I won’t, I’m not angry with you, Ana.” Natasha finally stands up wiping her sweaty hands on her slacks and moves closer to you two. The distance has become too much, almost suffocating to her. “I was wrong for doing that to you.” She swallows the harsh lump in her throat. She can't believe this is the conversation she is going to have with Ana. “I know that scared you, and I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do it?” The question packs a heavy punch that also requires a heavy answer that Natasha will have to censor for her daughter to understand and to not be afraid of the information. “I didn’t know how to stop you from having a tantrum. I’m still learning how to be a good mom for you. I try every day.” You want to cut in now, you want to erase what just came out of her mouth. You want to interrupt and tell her that she is a good mother despite her bumps on the road. Despite this incident or another incident, she’s always redeemed herself from her past mistakes and learned from them. You choose to remain silent and tell her these exact words in private right now it is about her and Ana. “You know my father didn’t put me in timeout or use a countdown.” she chuckles dryly as if this was something even remotely funny. It isn't. A clear coping mechanism to her being vulnerable and open.

“What did he do?” Anastasia's curiosity piques interest. You on the other hand weren't sure if this was appropriate for Ana's ears no matter how hard Natasha wanted her to understand where her head was in that store when she struck her. She can't bring herself to say it; a flash of memories invades her mind as she stares blankly into the open room. You definitely were not leaving this room now that Natasha has opened this door. You clear your throat, combing your fingers through Ana's hair as a gentle way to put focus on you instead.

“He hurt mama, he hurt her very badly and treated her terribly.” At this newfound information Anastasia frowns deeply. The thought of someone hurting Natasha saddens her. She doesn't even know Alexei, you and Natasha, both made it a point to never have her in the same room as him. She releases your hand and finally walks towards Natasha's frozen figure. Natasha suddenly snaps out of it at the feeling of her jacket sleeve being tugged. Looking down she’s met with familiarity and comfort. Her daughter's eyes.

“I’m sorry you were hurt, mama.” Natasha allows herself to release her tears, taking on the emotions that she’s kept bottled up for years to finally overflow. “I'm sorry for hurting you.” She pulls Anastasia into a hug and mumbles the words on the side of Ana's face as she deeply inhales and exhales. She pulls back from the embrace tucking the left side of Ana's hair behind her ear. She holds an unwavering eye contact with the six-year-old. “I will never hurt you like that again, okay?” Natasha nods her head for certainty, and Anastasia quickly follows her lead. “Okay.”

“I'm sorry too, mama.” Natasha looks at her curiously. “What are you talking about?” Anastasia looks back at your figure and looks back to Natasha. “It wasn't very nice to scream in the store and throw things on the floor.” Natasha chuckles, seemingly having forgotten all about how the situation started in the first place, but she’s proud of her daughter for being aware of her wrongdoing. “You're right it wasn't a very nice thing to do.” Anastasia holds her head down in shame, she knows what she did was wrong she's just so used to getting her way that day threw her off. Natasha would never shame her for it. She's just a child after all, a spoiled child but most importantly her child. She nudges her index finger under Ana's chin gently tilting it up for eye contact.

“Hey, it's alright. Thank you for apologizing.” Natasha plants soft and quick kisses across Ana's face as she starts a fit of giggles. You watch the interaction with a soft smile finally able to release a breath with the way things turned out. But the brief eye contact shared with Natasha is not giving the same type of vibes, she knows you will want a much more detailed discussion later on. You allow Natasha to stay longer, you still take the opportunity to get away from her for a moment.

Tell Ana that you were still going to get her nuggets from the store and now that she’s not constantly worried about Natasha spanking her again, she’s barely paying attention to you and your movements. Of course, Natasha tries to keep you in the room offering to just go out to eat or order room service instead. She’s missed you both, staying in an empty home alone does damage to the mind when you are not used to it. You quickly shot down the idea of having a family dinner, at least until everything is settled between you two as far as parenting goes.

When you return with grocery bags you head straight for the kitchen, placing everything in its place. Looking around the room you can tell the two of them made up for a week's worth of time lost. Toys are spread across the floor and snack wrappers are littered on the coffee table. Natasha has just finished reading Anastasia, her favorite bedtime story. “She’s out like a light.”

“That’s good, she had a long day.” You walk back into the kitchen area not wanting to be near her and remaining hopeful that her phone will ring so she can leave. She came here to make amends with Ana, and she's done that. Natasha can sense it, the tension is back, small talk and keeping the conversation on Ana won’t smooth things other with you. Natasha sighs sitting down at the counter.

“Can we talk now? Or are you going to keep acting like I'm a stranger?” She nervously nibbles on her bottom lip seemingly ready for whatever you have to throw her way. “I’m not sure there is anything to talk about Nat.” you keep your back turned to her, not in the mood to truly unpack everything that she said to you. “You said a lot at home, and you seemed like you meant every word.” you quickly turn around to face her, she's still seated at the counter, your words strike her heavily. She made you feel like you were the problem, like you were the one that needed to take a step back and evaluate the life decisions for Anastasia to be more than what the two of you experienced.

“Anything else you want to get off your chest about the way I parent or encourage you to parent our daughter. See how I said, "Our daughter, I wouldn't want you to feel like she’s only mine.” you send her the most ferocious glare she's ever seen coming from you. you scoff opening the fridge, grabbing a beer and quickly taking a sip. You don't even like drinking beer, it was too cheap for your liking. “I was not thinking clearly, I didn’t stop to think about how that would affect her or you.”

“Clearly not, but you still had those underlying feelings and I-” Natasha abruptly stands up from her seat and makes her way around the counter slowly edging towards you. She doesn't even want to know what you were about to finish your sentence with because that scares her, losing you has always been a fear of hers and since having Ana, losing her own little family scares her even more. She entraps you between the counter and her body, both of her hands on both sides of the marble countertop. “How do I know that you won't do it again? How do I know that the next time she has a melt down and I'm not there with you, that you won't spank her again or God forbid something worse?”

“Because I'm not him, I'm not a product of what he wanted me to be, not when it comes to her and not when it comes to being a mom.” Natasha's face contorted in pain; she's trying to hold back. There is a subtle strain to her voice that only you can pick up on. She reaches into her pocket; you have forgotten about it, but it's been burning a hole into her expensive fabrics since she left home. she brings the polaroid out of her pocket and stares at it repeating the same words she just said to you. “I’m not him.”

“I'm not him.”

“I’m not-” You bring her into a strong and warm embrace, dealing with that trauma alone it couldn't have been easy. “I know, you're not.” You rub up and down her back soothingly. Natasha doesn't cry like this often so you stand there holding her for as long as she needs you too. Eventually she pulls back but not too far away from you your lips finally meet in a soft and affectionate kiss. An eagerness and hunger starts to rise the longer the kiss continues, Natasha being away from you and being so vulnerable has caused her to be touched-starved. Before things get heated you pull away no matter how bad you wanted to keep going there was still something that needed to be addressed and understood. “I won’t allow Anastasia to be around that type of environment. We've worked so hard to shield her from it and give her better, I need you to remember that the next time you feel like you're losing control over how she handles her emotions.”

“You're right.” she wipes away her tears nodding in agreement with everything that you've said this entire time. What would happen the next time this happens? The look of pure fear her daughter had just by being in the same room as her hits her like a ton of bricks. Natasha never wants her daughter to be afraid of her. She needs to shake away that form of discipline out of her mind. It's been installed into her brain since a child.

“You have to unpack your shit, Nat.” you tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear and as you pull away from her, she holds your hand against the side of her face. “I will, I promise.” She's avoided any form of therapy or comfort when dealing with her traumatic childhood and past. However, now it's gotten to the point where she can no longer avoid it, she needs to deal with this head on professionally but for now you'll hold her, for now you'll console her and applaud her for being brave enough to revisit the past trauma and admit her mistake. A change will be made for the better, she swears by it. She can deal with the world fearing her, she likes it, actually thrives off of other fear from just her presence but she draws the line at her daughter.

“I’ll start looking for a therapist tomorrow.”

#mini burden au #natasha romanoff x reader #mob!nat #mob!natsha romanoff x reader #damage control au

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galaxyedging · 2 months ago

Text

Harry Castillo x f!reader

Warnings: Talk of emotion and mental domestic abuse. Brief mention of sexual assault, nothing graphic.

Follow on from Lavender. I got a few comments about Harry's heart being broken. I'm going to try and fix that.

Peony

All the lavender in the world couldn't calm your nerves at this point. The reflection before you was supposed to make you happy. A beautifully crafted white dress was being painstaking fitted to your body. The finest materials have been used, they should feel incredible against your skin. Instead they feel constricting.

Everything does nowadays with the wedding a week away, every passing minute feels like a step closer to the shackle clamping down on your ankle. How had you gone from feeling in love to feeling like a prisoner? That was actually easy to answer, it was accepting your fate that was hard. The man you were marrying had conned you, plain and simple. The version of him you fell for and agreed to marry was a facade. It started to fall away the second he got that ring on your finger. The controlling, emotionally abusive version of him came out from its highly polished shell. It made sure you were alienated from everyone and everything you knew. It had been planning it from day one. Offering to support you financially so you didn't need to work. Cutting off your own cash flow so you couldn't do whatever you wanted. All this was hidden under the guise of looking after you. Stupidly, you had been blinded by his charm and mistook it for sincerity. For love. The thought of him corrupting the thing you wanted most in the world made you sick to your stomach.

The salad you ordered sits on your plate having been thoroughly rearranged by you for the last ten minutes. Next to you, Amelia, your ‘PA’ was just finishing hers. As prison guards go, Amelia was sweet. There was no way she realised what her actual role was. Playing along kept you both safe from your fiancée’s wrath. He often threatened to ruin her life if you ever gave her the slip. Despite the hell you were trapped in, there was no way you could do that to her.

“Lavender.” The word was almost sung behind you as if was let out with a smile on his lips.

The fork in your hand squeaks against the plate as your whole body tenses. No. Not him. He can't see you like this. Harry knew you too well for you to lie to him in your current state. The anxiety in you tires you to the point where you can just about hold it together some days. Today is one of those days.

Summoning every last bit of energy, you muster the brightest smile you can.

“Harry!” You rise to meet him, your arms instinctively go around his neck as he offers you a hug.

The two of you keep it brief and step back. A polite introduction of Amelia follows. Then you take a second to look at Harry for the first time in almost a year. There are a few grays sneaking in around his temple. Other than that, he looks the same. He still radiates effortless beauty. His eyes still sparkle with his infectious energy. Every fibre of you yearns to step back into his arms.

“You look well.” Harry isn't one for lying so you know he's making small talk. It hurts to now be on that level with him when the two of you practically dated. “I hear your wedding is coming up?”

No. No, you aren't doing this. You can't.

“Sorry, Harry. I'm not feeling too good today. It was lovely to see you but I just need to use the restroom.” You manage to sound as normal as possible before heading off to the bathroom.

The water on your face helps to keep the tears at bay but just barely. They still well in your eyes as your heart breaks just that little bit further at what could have been.

A knock at the door sounds through the space.

“I'm fine, Amelia. I'll be out in a second.” Amelia was always hot on your heels.

The knock sounded again, heavier this time.

“I’ll be…” your voice is lost as you open the door to find Harry standing there.

One arm is already around you as the other shuts and locks the door. Then they both draw you to him. The moments go by with the two of you standing there. Amelia will be looking for you but you can't seem to care. For the first time in a long time you feel completely safe.

Eventually, Harry breaks the silence. “Just say the word and I will get far away from him.”

So many questions whirl around your head, it makes you dizzy but Harry is there, his hold on you still firm. He is your life raft in the ocean of despair that you have been set adrift in and you cling to him desperately.

“I can't…Amelia.” it is barely a sentence but Harry knows.

“Amelia has just received a very generous job offer, back home in LA. I called her a car.” You can't process enough to do anything but gape at his words. “She was worried about you too. Come on.”

Harry takes your hand and confidently leads you out of the restaurant. His stride only breaks for him to collect your coat and purse waiting outside the door. Once you are out on the street, he bundles you into his car and quickly shuts the door. With everything on your mind, you don't realise why until you see your driver crossing the street. Harry is in the driver's seat and the two of you speed off before the large man makes it halfway.

The sun is desperately trying to stream through the heavy black out curtains in Harry's bedroom when you finally wake up. The night before was a blur of tears, of relief, joy, sadness, bitterness, fear. Everything finally spilled out onto Harry's silk sheets. He had stayed, spooning you as you let everything out. At some point when the tears slowed, he helped you out of your clothes and into a hot shower. When you stood there frozen, he stepped in fully clothed to wipe the makeup from your face. He dried you and slipped you into an oversized shirt.

It's only now that you realise it is your shirt. One you brought when he had requested your company for the weekend. It was supposed to be something comfy for you to throw on while he had to take a meeting. Once he caught a glimpse of it on you, when he returned early, he insisted that you were more beautiful like that, completely at ease and natural, than in any of the expensive lingerie you wore.

The urge to pee drags you to the bathroom. On the marble counter, Harry had set toiletries, fresh towels, and fresh clothes. The level of thoughtfulness touches you deeply. Harry himself didn't make an appearance. He must have heard you up and about, even through the well built walls. Once you feel ready to face him, you walk out into the hallway. The smell of food leads you by your stomach to the kitchen.

“Hi.” Harry's voice is as soft as his expression when he sees you. “I figured you'd be hungry.” He gestures to the French toast that he is plating up.

“I am. Thank you.” Silently, you slip into stool at the breakfast bar.

Harry places the warm plate in front of you. He smells invitingly familiar, passing close by to dust powdered sugar, pour syrup and plate up fruits.

When he's finished you thank him again. Picking up your knife and fork, you begin to cut off a corner of the toast. Dipping it into the golden syrup you raise it to your mouth. It only gets about halfway when you realise your hand is shaking.

Harry's large hands encase yours and bring the cutlery back down to the plate. His broad chest is at your back. “You're safe. It's alright. Just breathe with me.”

Eventually the shaking and the lump in your throat passes.

“Here.” Harry sits on your right. He has the fork full of food you had in his hand and it's poised at your lips.

Part of you feels silly but when you look into Harry's eyes and see no judgement or condescension, you open up for him and the bite.

“Is it any good? I usually have my personal chefs cook for me.” He cuts you another bite.

A small laugh escapes you at his comment. So many times you had teased him about being a rich guy. Which he was, through and through, Harry might be a gifted businessman but he came from old money too.

“Well, it got a smile so I'll call it a success.” He returns your smile yet it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “I know you might not want to talk about it but I need to know one thing.” His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip and he sets his jaw before asking. “Did he ever hurt you, I mean, physically? Did he…force…” Harry can't even bring himself to say it.

“No. No. Everything was emotional, mental…”

“Okay. I just, I didn't think until this morning, after you showered, there could have been evidence…”

“No. There's no evidence of what he did. To the outside world I went along willingly.”

“Not to everyone. The second I saw you, the engagement ring loose on your finger, the bags under your eyes. I knew the rumours I heard this week were right. That's why I came to find you.”

“You came to…you were looking for me?”

“Of course.” The urge to kiss him rose within you. For a second, you thought he might the way his eyes travelled to your lips. “Come on. Finish up. I have some business to take care of this afternoon. While I'm out I'll get you anything you need.”

“Harry. I can't…it's not your place to take care of me.” Years of independence and a childhood of being seen and not heard, wouldn't let you accept his kindness so easily.

“Look, I'm not telling you what to do, I think you've had enough of that. I have all this space, resources, I could provide you with the means to start over and not miss a cent of it, I'm Mr Rich Guy, remember?” You snort and he continues. “Please, just let me help you.”

A weight is lifted off your shoulders when you accept. There is a renewed hunger in you, for the delicious food on your plate and the life you can now choose to take back.

Harry's meeting didn't take all that long. You caught up on a couple of shows that had started watching during your time practically being on house arrest. Harry returned with clothes, shoes, and takeout from your favourite place near his apartment. He used to order in after fucking you for hours. He'd fuel you to do it all over again. You miss the simplicity of your former ‘relationship’. Harry would use you to satisfy his every need in the bedroom but he never made you feel used. The two of you would hang out, talk for hours, eat, laugh, share something that neither of you acknowledged.

“How was your day?” It felt oddly domestic to sit on his sofa in the early evening and ask.

“It went well. I threatened to run your ex's business into the ground if he even so much as said your name ever again. For good measure, I bought a massive stake in his company. I don't think you'll hear from him again.” Harry casually took a bite of a spring roll as if he hadn't just wielded some god-like power over your life.

“I….” There was far too much for you to say, to ask, to think about. “...do you want to watch a movie? There's a new action one on Netflix?”

Harry leans back next to you, relaxing into the cushions as your back with his container of noodles. “Sounds good.”

The next few weeks pass with you and Harry, and the herd of elephants in the room, adjusting to this new arrangement. Harry works, networks, attends to his charity work. You worked on getting back to yourself, eating right again, looking for work, taking an online therapy course.

Harry provides everything that you need. Fresh groceries are delivered regularly. There's laundry and maid service. You have everything you need, until a familiar ache starts in your lower stomach.

Harry is reading in the living room when you approach him like a nervous teen about to ask for an advance on their allowance to buy something they shouldn't. He looks over the top of his reading glasses as you get closer.

“Hey. Everything okay?” His big brown eyes are full of concern and you feel stupid for making him worry.

“It's nothing. Really. I just lost track of the days and time of the month supplies.” You awkwardly shift your weight from one foot to the other at your odd choice of words.

“Oh. Oh! I'm sorry of course. Forgive me, I didn't even think. How urgent is it? Sorry. I mean do you need them now?” Harry places his book down and stands to move towards you. “I think I might have something.” He leaves the living room and returns with an open pack of sanitary towels.

“Thank you.” The footsteps of one of the elephants in the room grew unbearably loud as you took them from his hand. “Can I ask what happened between you two?”

“There's not much to tell. She left me. Got back together with her ex.” Sadness flashed across his face for a second other than that he seemed unaffected.

“I'm sorry. That must have hurt.”

“It did for a little while. Until I realised that she hadn't broken my heart.”

“She hadn't?”

“No. Someone broke it before that and I was just hoping that she could put it back together.”

For an expansive open plan Harry's apartment suddenly felt suffocatingly small.

“If you need anything else, I can go to the store now. If not, I'll go in the morning.” Harry offers you a smile and a way out of the conversation.

You are grateful for both.

Even in the comfort of Harry's guestroom, sleep is hard to come by that night. Unanswered questions keep you up until the early hours until you are claimed by exhaustion.

Months pass, you find a job, it's mind numbing but it pays well and could set you back on the path to your career. A good word from Harry had helped you secure it. By now, you lost count on how much you owe him, not just financially, he had saved you. Now that you were working and a life of your own, things between you and Harry were lighter. You didn't feel so much of a burden. It was just like having a really great roommate. Except this room mate had made you come in every room you now shared and somewhere along the line you had fallen deeply in love with him, knowing full well that could never have him.

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #harry castillo #harry castillo x f!reader #harry castillo x you

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patchworkcuddlebug · 2 months ago

Text

Little Lullaby

A Winding Lullaby story.

The witch sets her tool aside with a huff, wiping her face with her hand. That was the last touch the doll needed. She leans forward on her desk, hovering over the inanimate toy that lays limp on her work desk. She placed her finger on the doll's face, small enough to be encompassed entirely by her fingerprint. She closes her eyes and focuses, channelling just enough magic to animate it, but not enough to overwhelm and destroy the toy.

With conviction and willpower from lifetimes of experience, the witch remains calm and focused and the magic starts to flow. She can feel it, the doll an extension of herself, slowly becoming.

Like waking up from a nap, the doll opens its eyes.

"Hello? Is it you, can you hear me?

The doll looked up. "Miss! Very big!"

The witch leaned back in her chair and exhaled. "You work. That's good, at least. Now..." The witch's disposition changes from exasperated relief to a deadly seriousness. "Do you remember anything? What's your name, what happened?

The doll put a finger on its chin. "Hmm… Lullaby. Fell, and... broken. Miss helped!"

"Oh, it is you!" The witch scooped the doll off of her desk with two hands, cradling it with her palms. She pressed it against her cheek, snuggling it close. "Oh, I missed you so much! I've been so lonely without you!"

Lullaby hugs back, pressing both arms against her Miss's cheeks. "Happy, Miss…"

it raised its head up, curious as a realization slowly dawns. "Lonely?"

"Oh... here, let me show you." The witch picks up her doll, swivelling around in her work chair to show it... itself. There laid Lullaby, face down just where it first unwound, with the plating of its back removed and its inner workings exposed. Many pieces are missing, including its core.

"Fixing you is taking just a little longer than I thought it would." The witch's tone is caring and compassionate, careful not to lose her grip as the doll in her hands leans for a closer look. "I started thinking about talking to you again, and then I started looking into auxiliary core use in my off time, and... well, here you are, Little Lullaby."

The doll peered over the witch's fingers, gawking at its large body. "Weird..." it says to itself. Its eyes are drawn to the empty space where its core should be. "Miss? Core?"

"It's right here, sweetheart." The witch turns again, careful to swivel slowly enough not to rattle to poor thing. She gently sets Little Lullaby down onto the desk it was made on, where it sits on the spine of a closed book. The witch retrieves a small golden chest, which she opens and tilts forward just enough to show her doll what keeps it as close to alive as a doll can be.

Little Lullaby looked on in awe, slowly approaching the box. It places its hands on the rim, standing on its tip-toes to peer inside. It feels just a little uneasy, overwhelmed by the sheer mass of its inner workings, and seeing it outside of itself for the first time.

It takes a second to be still, enjoying the ticking as the key embedded on top slowly turned in a familiar rhythm. Tick, tick, tick...

. . . . .

"Miss!" The doll was stirred from its stillness as its witch entered the workshop.

"Little Lullaby!" The witch playfully chimed back as she took her seat. "Sorry I was gone so long, it took a while to find the right gear I needed."

"Okay Miss. Here now!" The doll beamed, swaying from side to side and kicking its feet over the edge of the desk. "Sorry this can't help. Small and close..." it looks back at its box, pouting just a little.

"Don't apologize, the proximity requirement isn't your fault." The doll looked pensive as it spoke, trying to process its witch's words before she used a single single to pet its hair. "Plus, there's still a little something that you can help with~"

"Help!" Little Lullaby eagerly sprang to its feet. "Thanks Miss! Please!"

The witch reached into her bag, setting toy after toy onto the table. A 3D maze with a metal ball trapped in a plastic shell, a wooden sculpture made of many interlocking parts, and an empty wooden frame with a set of tetraminos meant to fit inside in a certain way.

The doll was already enamoured, first drawn to the maze. It picked it up with both hands, flipping it onto its sides and watching how the ball moves inside. "Those puzzles are a little too tricky for me. Could you be a doll and solve them?"

"Yes! Yes Miss, yes! Thanks Miss!" the doll's voice was ecstatic, turning its attention away from its tasks just long enough to thank its Miss before getting to work.

The witch smiled with pride, before turning back to Lullaby and getting to work.

. . . . .

Little Lullaby resisted the urge to flinch as the dollop of hot glue landed on its back.

"There. Remember, you'll have to be still for a moment while the glue settles, but after that you'll be just like you were normal sized."

The pocket-doll began to kick its feet in excitement, still careful to keep itself still. Norae was careful to match, holding her breath to steady her hand as she lowered the key into place. Like a kiss, it gently presses down, perfectly replicating its placement on the doll's proper body.

"Did you know keys are a symbol of Hecate?" She said with a casual tone as she pulled her hand away, letting the decorative key harden into place. It was the handle of an old metal key for a lock that had long been discarded. It had been cut perfectly to fit the mini-doll's back, with a perfectly rehearsed cleaving spell. "It's a sign that all is possible for magic; to a mistress, nothing shall be locked away."

The doll slowly pushed itself up from its prone position. As it sat up, politely letting its hands rest on its lap, a smile spreads across its face. It gently, experimentally, let its body sway to one side, holding itself in place for only a moment. Then, just a bit faster, it swayed the other way. It beamed, giggling and kicking its feet in time with its movements. "Eheheh, Miss! Miss, key! Miss!!"

Norae couldn't help but smile as she watched her doll sway with delight. "Remember, don't try to turn it. You'll have your real key back soon enough."

Keeping her smile, she turned around to face the ever-still body she's been tending to. Its core was already back where it should be. Now all that remained was hooking up the clockwork system to spin in time with it, and... keeping Little Lullaby happy, of course.

. . . . .

With a deep exhale, the witch pulled herself away from Lullaby. For just a moment, she rested, proud of her work.

She slowly swivelled around, greeting Little Lullaby with a smile. "Guess who's about to be big again!"

The toy looked away from its puzzle, intuitively stopping just before its turning around would've caused its key to smack against the structure. Its face slowly lit up as it processed its miss's words, breaking into a smile as it gasped. "This one? This one?!"

"That one!" Norae held out her hands invitingly, and he doll quickly scrambled on. Carefully, she swivelled around, showing off the fully repaired key sticking out from Lullaby's proper body. "All we have to do is wind you back up, and you'll be yourself again. Would you like to watch?"

The little doll could barely keep its grip on Norae's fingers as it bounced on its heels. "Wind! Please, Miss, key!"

"Yes, of course." The witch take on a gentle and encouraging tone, only barely hiding her excitement. "Watch carefully, now~" she says almost boastfully as she leans forward, turning the key around and around with both arms. After more rotations than Little Lullaby can count, although that isn't saying much, there's a delicate click of resistance as the key is fully wound.

Norae leans back, watching with rapt attention as the key begins to turn. Slowly, Lullaby's body raised its head. It blinked slowly, looking as if it could pass back out at any moment. "Mn, is... is this one big, Miss?"

Little Lullaby lazily plopped its body down on Miss's lap, speaking nearly in unison with its other self as it followed its gaze to look until both looked at the witch. "Big... Miss?"

All it took was a single double-take for such a well-trained witch to understand. "Oh! Your core is split between two bodies my apologies." She returns her hands to her lap, which begin to faintly glow. "Allow me, this will only-"

Lullaby quickly propped itself up on its elbows. "Please, wait!" Little Lullaby held its arms out, waving them for attention. "Wait!"

Norae paused, retracting her arms before they could even begin to glow. She looked between the dolls, unsure which to give her full attention.

The doll's gazes started to drift downward, away from Norae's face, until they stared at each other. For a moment, that's all they did.

Lullaby reached its arm out, palm outstretched. Little Lullaby stood itself up and walked forward on its Miss's lap, until it stepped onto its bigger self's fingers. It steadied itself in that hand, careful as it was slowly pulled closer to its face, Lullaby's face.

"This one would like to be little... for just a bit longer, Miss." "Please, Miss, little longer..."

A quiet, endeared gasp fell from Norae's mouth as it saw Lullaby tend to its other body so carefully. "Oh, of course, take as much time as you'd like."

As it spoke, Little Lullaby was held in both of Lullaby's hands, pulled in tight to its chest, just over its core.

"Thank you very much, Miss." "Thanks, Miss..."

#dollposting #empty spaces #1.6k words #this one's words #sorry to leave everyone in suspense on lullaby's wellbeing! it didn't mean to!#as soon as it felt like writing again this one knew this was the perfect draft to finish up #oh also! this one doesn't feel sick anymore!#its throat is still a little gross but it's nothing that keeps it from feeling like itself anymore #it would like to thank everyone for all the kind words and well wishes!#this one expresses its deepest appreciation <3

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smoooothoperator · 10 months ago

Text

What Was I Made For?

08: Technical Difficulties

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: angst, two idiots fighting again

a/n: Hiii, so, I had a little writers block but it's completly fiiinee.... I hope you guys llike this chapter! This week maybe you won't have a new chapter because this weekend I have a competition, so if you want to suggest things or even sending me some love I would appreciate it so much!

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Tuscany was a place that brought me inner peace, childhood memories, a sense of safety.

It reminds me of the summers I spent with my grandma, sneaking into the kitchen to watch her make homemade pasta and pizza. It reminds me of being free and knowing that here I am my own person, that I can be myself and not a racing driver.

When my grandma passed away, she left this house for my sisters and I, leaving my mother with other properties, knowing how much this house meant for us and how many memories this place holds. Here we had first kisses, first love… Every inch of this house has our signature with small details: a wall piano where I used to sit with my dad to play it, a pottery jar my sister Soleil made, a painting made by my sister.

This house is my place, my safe space, my sanctuary.

And yet there he is, stepping into my space when no one asked him to be here, turning my life upside down as always with his selfishness.

“You have to leave” I said firmly, placing a protective hand over my belly.

“I want to talk, Dafne… please” he sighed, not tearing his eyes away from my swollen belly, making me turn around and walk towards the couch I occupied before he showed up.

“There's nothing to talk about, Charles” I sighed. “You've done enough. Leave me alone”

“I won't” he frowned, following me, making me hug myself. “I won't leave. Not this time-”

“Can't you see that the only thing you do is ruining my life?” I snapped, turning around to face him. “Look at what you have done! This is your fault!”

“I know!” he exclaimed, making me clench my jaw. “I know! And I'm so sorry!”

“Saying sorry won't fix this” I frowned, pointing at my belly. “Saying sorry won't make me have my career back. Saying sorry won't make me hate you less”

He clenched his jaw, but never looked away. He stayed where he was, looking at me all the time, following me with his eyes.

“I'm not leaving until you hear me” he frowned, making me groan while I sat on the chair.

“You think you can just show up here and try to be in my life after everything you did? After the panic attacks, the harassment, the constant media hounding?” I frowned. “You made me lose a man I really wanted to be with. Sebastian is more man than you, he tried to put back the broken pieces of my heart after the disaster you made. And then I had to see his heart breaker when I told him that this baby wasn't his but yours. You have an idea of how much that hurts?”

His eyes filled with regret as he clenched his jaw, but I couldn't let myself feel sorry for him. I have to be strong. For me. And for this baby.

“I know I've made mistakes” he sighed, and before he talked again he took a few deep breaths closing his eyes. “But I'm here to make things right. I came to talk things and fix this”

“You can't fix this” I said, pointing between us, fighting the tears. “You can't just show up and expect things to be okay. It's too late”

“Please Dafne…” he begged, taking a few steps closer. “I'm not asking for forgiveness right now, I just… Just give me the chance to be here, for you. For our baby”

“Our baby” I repeated bitterly. “This isn't about you, Charles! The world doesn't turn around you! This time is about me and what I need. And what I need right now is to have you away from me”

He stayed silent, with his eyes moving from my belly to my eyes. For a moment, I thought he really was going to leave. I saw him close his eyes slowly and take a deep breath, I saw that tic he has in his jaw whenever he's nervous. For a few seconds I felt relieved, thinking he was going to turn around and walk out of the backyard.

“I'm not leaving” he said, opening his eyes again. “I'm going to stay until you believe that I mean what I said. Until you decide to fix things and speak”

“You are so stubborn!” I exclaimed, frustrated. “Why can't you just respect my wishes?”

“Because I care about you, okay?” he exclaimed back, raising up his arms. “Why do you think I came here? I waited patiently until you came back to the factory, but you never came. I was going crazy because you weren't giving signals if you were alive or not. You didn't even make a statement about you retiring!”

“Do you think that's easy?” I mumbled. “Why do you think I came here? Why do you think I didn't say anything? Because this is hard for me, Charles! You have an idea how embarrassing it is for me to say you can't race anymore because you are going to be a mother? Do yu have an idea of how many times I had to answer to multiple people that I wanted to focus on racing when they asked me about my future plans, about making a family?”

“I…” he sighed.

“You have it easy” I said pointing at him with my hand. “You can keep racing, you can have as many kids as you want, after all you won't have to carry them for nine months. But I have to carry this baby, Charles. I can't race anymore, my body won't be the same”

“And I'm sorry for that, it's my fault” he sighed.

“Yes, it is” I scoffed. “If there's one to blame here it's you. I did nothing wrong. Just because you decided to not use a condom and be drunk”

“You were drunk too” he tried to attack back, but he stopped looking at the floor.

I stood up and turned around and hugged myself, looking at the sunset and taking a deep breath.

“You can stay the night” I said. “But I want you out of here before I wake up”

“Dafne-”

“No” I stopped him. “Right now you only bring me pain. If you want to fix things, go back in time and go to your hotel room instead of mine”

Laying in bed, now more than ever, only brought memories.

The room that always has been mine changed all over the years. My grandma inherited this house from her father, who was something like the lord of the land. It's a big house, and when my mother had Erica and then me, she decided that she wanted to give us a room for ourselves, making my mother know that this building was also ours.

My room was decorated the moment my mother knew she was pregnant with me, and it started to get shape as I was getting older. The bed changed a few times, the shelves were full of books and plants, the wardrobe had summer clothes, the walls were filled with pictures of all the places I had been in my life.

This room it's my sanctuary more than the house itself.

And knowing that Charles is at the other side of the door, as many other times, makes me want to stay here safe.

I heard him walking around the house like he owned it. After all, he spent many summers here, he knows where the things are here. I heard him walk in the kitchen downstairs, making something for dinner. I heard him sneeze and yawn.

He really won't leave.

I sat on the bed, rubbing my belly softly while looking out the window, taking deep breaths when I felt my cat walking towards me.

“What should I do?” I whispered, looking at my cat.

The day I found out I was pregnant wasn't the best day of my life. I had a crash that made me fall unconscious, I pushed away a man I knew I could fall in love with and be with him, I disappointed my parents.

I sighed, rubbing my belly softly, something I found myself doing more than I wanted. And somehow, I liked feeling it. I liked feeling that I was growing a human in me, it made me feel stronger than ever. If only this baby was from the man I love…

The door opened slowly, making me turn my head towards him. He had a hand on the handle and the other on the door frame, looking at me, watching how I had my sweater raised up so I could feel the skin of my stomach.

“Eh… I made dinner” he said, with his eyes fixed on me.

“Good for you. What do you want, pats on your back? A trophy?” I answered sarcastically.

“I want you to eat dinner” he frowned.

“No, thank you. I won't eat something you made” I scoffed. “And I'm not hungry”

“Oh my God, can you stop?” he frowned. “I just want to apologize, make things right! And you make it very hard for me!”

“So? I think I made it pretty clear that I don't want to have you here” I frowned.

“And what are you going to do, raise that kid alone? It's mine too, I have every right to be here” he groaned.

“But I don't want you here!” I exclaimed. “I don't want to see you. I don't want to remember every second of the day that you are the father of this baby, that you are the one that made this!”

“Well, I'm sorry! Accidents happen!” he exclaimed, raising his arms.

“Exactly” I groaned. “This is an accident. But who will be the one that won't be damaged? You. I want you out of my life”

He clenched his jaw and looked at me, shaking his head. I just want him to leave me, is it that hard?

“You can't push everyone away, Dafne” he sighed. “You did that with Sebastian. And you always did it with me. I think it's time for us to act like adults”

“Get out of my room”

“Fine. But I won't leave this house until we talk” he said before closing my door.

“Asshole!” I screamed, grabbing a pillow and throwing it to the door. “I hate you!”

“Well, I don't!”

What?

I frowned looking at the door, hugging my stomach softly.

What did he say?

“Whatever” I groaned, turning around on the bed and laying on my side, with my back facing the door. “Your dad is not good, you won't like him”

I swallowed thickly, looking out of the window and drawing circles on my belly with my nails. I'm hungry, the baby is hungry, but I won't give him the satisfaction of eating whatever he made, not even sharing the same room with him.

Charles might have been the first love of my life. But that was a stupid, childish and innocent crush.

My stomach growled in the middle of the night, making me groan and rub it softly.

I'm hungry.

I sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing my eyes while I put warm socks on my feet. I got up and wrapped my shoulders with a blanket, taking a deep breath before walking out of my room.

I expected the house to be cold, like always. But it was warm. Maybe he fired the fireplace and let it die before he went to sleep.

I went downstairs and sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around me. The stairs were cold against my covered feet, making me shiver softly.

When I reached the last step I frowned, watching him. He was on the couch, an uncomfortable couch, hugging himself and with his head on a pillow.

“Idiot” I whisper, looking at him.

He could have gone to the room he shed to sleep in with his brothers whenever they came. But he stayed here, for what? Waiting for me to come?

I shook my head and walked towards the kitchen, sighing when I saw a plate on the counter. I sat on the chair and looked at it, biting my lip when I saw a sandwich on it.

And not a simple sandwich. My favorite sandwich.

“How the hell…” I frowned, turning around and looking at him.

How does he know that my favorite sandwich is the one that has tuna with mayo and ketchup? How?

I sighed, eating it and groaning when I swallowed it. God, it's so good.

“Is it good?”

I gasped softly, flinching. He's awake.

“Why are you sleeping on the couch? You have a room” I said, not turning.

“Just in case you walked downstairs” he sighed. “I know you, Dafne…”

“You know nothing about me, Leclerc” I frowned.

“I know that you love eating” he said, standing in front of me at the other side of the table. “I know that for dinner you always need your comfort meal, and after that you always have cookies with milk. You have been doing that since we are little”

“Fuck off” I groaned, looking away.

“I know that you love peaches, but you are allergic to the peel” he continued. “That you love the chocolate of Cadbury, more specifically the Wispa bars”

I frown and look at him. How? How does he know that? Why? Who told him?

“I know you, Dafne” he repeated.

“No, Charles! You don't know me” I said tiredly. “If you did, none of the shit that is happening between us should have happened! If you did, you would understand why I hated every second of every fight we had. Why can't you accept that I want to be someone successful? Why can't you let me be and mind your own business?”

“And do you think it was easy for me?” he exclaimed. “Do you think it was easy for me watching you risk your life every time you got into your kart and now into the cars? I knew from the start that this sport was dangerous, and when I saw you for the first time in a kart I nearly had a heart attack!”

“You are being so selfish! This is my dream” I exclaimed, standing up.

“And I tried, every time I could, to make sure you left it” he said. “I tried to fight against you to make you hate it, to make you see that…”

“What? That I'm not made for this? That this is a sport for men?”

He swallowed thickly and looked away, walking towards the window of the kitchen, his back facing me.

“When Jules died I started to have nightmares nearly every night” he whispered. “Some nights his crash on Sakura was on repeat in my mind. And then other nights that crash was happening to you. Do you have an idea of what was going on in my mind when I realized that the one that was in the barriers in Abu Dhabi was you? Do you have an idea of how hard it was for me knowing that you were unconscious?”

“Charles” I frowned.

“Do you have an idea how hard I tried to keep you safe? Dafne, I-”

“No. Don't do this. You have no right. How dare you? Why are you like this? Why the hell you have been acting all our fucking life like a jerk with me, making me feel so little, and then you come here now to say what, that you love me?” I scoffed.

But then he turned his head slowly, looking at me with those green eyes.

“No” I mumbled. “No. No, don't. Leave. Leave right now! I don't want to see you! Get the fuck out if my house!”

“Dafne…”

“No” I groaned. “You have no right”

He turned around to look at me but I just took a step back before he could reach me, walking out of the kitchen and going to the hall of the house to grab the key cars.

If he doesn't want to leave, then I will.

Even if it's two in the morning.

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@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @catarinemirandax

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