#wish me luck. keep me in your prayers

[girlfailurefelix]

just one chorus left and a little bit of music without lyrics and it’s all done,, the end is already done the light at the end of the tunnel is visible

[horngryeyes]

8 hrs until the exam. goodnight everyone sleep well^-^

[viennakarma]

Happiness is a butterfly

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.

Word count: 6.4k

Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.

Hope it's to your liking, Anon!

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“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.

Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.

Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.

It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.

You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.

Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.

That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.

“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.

“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.

Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.

“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”

“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”

You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.

Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.

“You came to the party?” You asked.

“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”

“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.

You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.

“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”

“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”

He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.

“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.

“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.

“You know you are stunning.”

“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”

“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.

“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

“I can’t.”

“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.

“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.

“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.

“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.

“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.

“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.

You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.

Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.

“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.

He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.

“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.

He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.

“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.

And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.

Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.

But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.

You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.

There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.

Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.

You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.

“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.

“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.

You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.

“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.

“Hm, I’m not sure.”

“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.

“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.

You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.

Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.

As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.

Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.

“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”

“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.

“Thank you”

He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.

You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.

“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.

“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.

“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.

He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.

And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.

“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.

“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”

You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.

“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”

With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes. 

When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.

“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.

He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.

You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.

“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”

You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.

“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”

“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”

“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”

That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.

“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”

“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.

“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.

“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.

There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.

“Please let us just talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.

You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.

“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”

The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.

When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.

You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.

“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”

His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.

And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.

He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.

The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.

By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.

It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.

“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.

A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.

“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

“No,” Somebody said, somberly.

“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.

When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.

Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.

“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”

“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”

“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.

The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.

“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”

“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.

You had to be fine.

“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”

He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.

On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.

But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.

By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.

Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.

“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.

“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”

“I will not leave.”

Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.

After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.

“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.

“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.

“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.

“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”

She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.

As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.

The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.

Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.

His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.

He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.

“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.

“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.

“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.

“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”

“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.

“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.

“I know.”

He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.

“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.

“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.

Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.

Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.

You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.

He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.

After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.

In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.

Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.

“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.

He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.

It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.

Only you didn’t.

You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.

“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”

“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”

“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.

“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”

“But-”

“I’ll pay for it.”

That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.

He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.

When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.

“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.

As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”

He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.

“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”

He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.

He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.

Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.

As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.

“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.

“She woke up!”

Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.

“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.

Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.

He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.

Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.

And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.

“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”

“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.

When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”

You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

WILL YOU PRAY FOR ME? ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Trying out writing Aegon some more for my fic, 'THE CONQUEROR REBORN'. <3 pairing: DARK! Aegon ii Targaryen x Fem! Hightower! Reader prompt: Aegon finds you praying in the Sept before the Battle of Rook's Rest. This is not a friendly encounter. word count: 1, 298+ words

You had been sent to King’s Landing as a means of assurance that House Hightower, Aegon’s Mother side of the family, was completely loyal to him and his cause. You dreaded it, wishing you had been born a man or married off to some Lord from far away. King’s Landing was in chaos, the common folk struggling to adapt to the changes due to the war. Whilst the Red Keep was a mix of chaotically trying to plan out the war and comforting a fragile minded Helaena. 

It did not help that the predatory eyes that were Aegon’s that followed you everywhere. From when you entered a room until you left, if the walls had eyes then they surely would have followed you there as well. In hopes of avoiding any conflict or attempts of any kind, the Sept became your safe haven. Aegon did not attend the daily mass, nor did he believe in the Faith of the Seven. 

So, those hours long masses were a good enough excuse to get out of the Red Keep and to keep your distance from Aegon. After the rumors of Aegon’s past in Silk Street floated towards your ear, no matter how hard Alicent tried to stop it, it gave you reason enough to keep far far far far away from him. Even if he was your distant cousin and King of the Seven Kingdoms. 

Kneeling in front of the large statue of the Mother, you did not pray for anything a girl of your age and high standing usually would have, not for the blessing of fertility and easy labor. No, you prayed for mercy and peace on behalf of your sweet distant cousin and Queen consort Helaena. The poor girl did not deserve the fate given to her, to marry her older brother and to watch her innocent son be slaughtered in front of her. Helaena deserved peace and mercy. 

Grabbing a match from benches in front of the statue, you light an unlit candle, watching the flames crackle and pop for a second. Weakly smiling at the alluring glow of candlelight, you blow out the match, shifting on the velvet stool in front of the statue of the Mother. Letting out a gentle sigh, you clasps your hands together in a prayer motion, ready to begin your prayers for your sweet cousin. 

“So this is where you run off to.” Aegon states, his loud footsteps filling the once quiet Sept.

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“I had hoped for something more interesting or scandalous.” Aegon comments amused, “But, considering how much of a prude Oldtown is, I am not surprised you're here.” 

“Your grace, I was not expecting you here.” You weakly get out, dreading turning around. 

“I can tell. You're tense.” 

Tensing up even more as he points it out, you turn around to look at him, your eyes looking him over. His hair was unruly as ever, only making it more obvious that he lacked the knowledge of a hairbrush of any kind. Though you were sure that he never combed it in his entire life as it was very fit for his character. 

Narrowing your eyes at what he was wearing, the steel chest plate clearly did not fit him, the leather straps holding the chest plate together looking seconds away from bursting. You’d never comment on it, but he would have better luck squeezing himself into a corset than trying to wear that armor.  

“I was taken by surprise by you. Do forgive me for it, your grace.” You mumble weakly, now praying that he would go away.

“I see you are admiring me. I do not blame you. I do look rather dashing, had nearly all of the whores in Silk Street throw themselves at me.” He jests, though it only makes your lips curled up into a disgusted look. 

A poet. No, a drunk. No, no, a whore. Anyone could have come up with a better conversation starter than that. 

“I am sure you enjoyed that, your grace.” You nod, “You look like the true epitome of a King.”

Shifting your eyes away from him, you tense up as he stands beside your stool, dangerously close to touching you. Aegon had always given you an odd feeling, not quite hatred but not quiet enjoyment, more like a neutral contentment. From the cordial conversations at dinner with the rest of the family, he was decent enough. Of course, before he gorged himself on Arbor red and food. 

“Will you pray for me?” He asks, his hand brushing against the side of your cleavage.

“What?” You blurt out, tensing up at the ‘accidental’ touch. 

“I said, will you pray for me, sweet cousin?” He asks, a dark glint in his eyes. “Pray for your King to return from battle unmarred?”

“I will, if you ask me to.” You mumble, feeling forced to comply. 

Cowering backwards as he leans in dangerously close, every part of your body told you that you were not safe this close to him. He was a Targaryen, the King, your distant cousin, and a married man nonetheless. An unmarried woman such as yourself should not be this close to him. Pushing down the fear that bubbled up inside of you, he tenderly touches your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze better. Your lips dangerously close to touching if either of you leaned in. 

Carefully looking over his features, you would never say it aloud, but in another life he would be considered ethereal. Those stunning amethyst eyes and white curls that all Targaryen’s had. Those sharp features that were framed with a soft pudginess from his recent gain of weight. The soft pink under his eyes and on the tip of his nose from restless nights. Remembering where you were, you instantly pull back from him, keeping a distance from him. 

“When I return from Rook’s Rest, victorious, like I know that I will. I will take you as my second wife, I need an heir and you are fit for that.” He states, an almost sinister glimmer in his eyes. 

“But, it is forbidden. In the eyes of the Seven and of the common law. No man should take two wives.” You argue, praying it would be enough to spook him off.  

“I am King, my word is law. Not to mention, twas’ my ancestor who took two wives. Who am I to deny tradition?” He counters, the tone of his voice leaving no room to argue.

No. No. No. Now he cares of tradition? Of duty?

Realizing that there truly was no way to sway his mind on the matter, you sink in the velvet stool, a twindle of defeat filling you. You would be his second wife, his bride. Just a broodmare, someone to warm his bed whenever he called for you like a dog. No one would be able to protest this, to argue on your behalf because he was right, he was King. His word held more power than anyone in the Seven Kingdoms. Your fate was sealed, it seemingly was when you were shipped to King’s Landing. 

"But-" You try, but he cuts you off.

“Now, I will expect you to await my return with eagerness, my little bride-to-be.” He whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You don’t speak, your tongue feeling as if it was made of lead.  Even if you could, you could not promise that you would not lash out on him. 

“Oh, and when I do come back, wait for me in my chambers dressed in that pretty little chemise of yours. I liked the one with the pink ribbon.” He whispers, the last part of his words sending a cold shiver down your spine. 

He had been watching you whilst you were in your chambers. For gods knows how long.

----

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

[midnightblues444]

Lustful afflictions |

Priest nanami x brat! fem reader

Warnings: age gap (readers in her 20s and hes like 30 something), perversion of Christian faith, corruption, m receiving, sacrilege ,

Notes: fell off the face of the earth for 2 months now I'm back so enjoyy <3

Imagine driving priest nanami to temptation and making him lose his mind remembering it all during a prayer for forgiveness

"I confess to my sins of lust" he recounts, knelt in prayer

From the moment you walked into his cathedral he could sense trouble

"the source of my sinful affliction, that of a girl who wondered into my very own church"

You'd giggle in his sermons, and look at him with a sparkle that he couldn't quite place. Your words dripping off your tongue like melted candy, he can only recall how the sound of his name from your lips sent jolts of an unfamiliar feeling through him.

"A walking temptation she was.."

the way you're dresses were always so short and tight, there was disrespect that radiated from your very being yet it wasnt the biggest issue

He could see it when you listen to his sermons, not with intent but with amusement more so seductively studying him, often catching himself losing his focus if he made eye contact with you.

It was most apparent when you came up for communion, staring up at him with doe eyes as you ate the bread slowly, smirking when he couldnt keep the eye contact . Turning back ever so slightly with a giggle as you made way to your seat.

"I repent, I repent"

Hed prided himself on always being a man of honor and more importantly a man of god, hed thus expected the unholy thoughts to go away on their own.

Though he took a concious effort not fall into the temptation you dangled before him and keep composed.

"It was in this very confessional where the affair began"

To his suprise you came to confessional one afternoon. Skipping down toward the box, the apparent click of your heels hitting the tiles of the church floor made his heart pound in his chest.

"She spoke things I'd never heard before, she promised to help me in ways the lord couldnt"

"Lust is natural for all of us isnt it nanami"

He cleared his throat, at the sugary way you said his name

"Lustful thought" you'd sighed, "though I think we all struggle with lust, do we not?"

"I suppose so, but we thus practice abstinence" he replied

"I should've abstained..."

"But do we really need to abstain from what we truly desire" you said , trying to push your luck "I mean I see how you look at me father nanami"

"I am a holy man though how I acted was not a reflection of that"

He slid your side of the confessional door open staring down at you with a faint blush. The priest was undeniably a beautiful man, his defined face and toned body that peaked under his black attire but was noticeably when he fidgeted with his white collar.

"So what do I do about it?"

"Take a seat" you purred

"I wish to repent and continue a life in your light"

He was clutching a rosary while you were on your knees, the priests cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly.

He barely held it together, muttering forgive me lord under his stuttering breaths. He whined under your every touch, finding himself pleading for release, as the feeling of your throat was warm and unlike anything hed ever felt

begging for more, with his deep grunts as he thrusted unconsciously harder

"Forgive me I have sinned"

"Nggh" he breathed out, while you hummed and massage his balls, cumming down your throat with a deep whine

You wiped your mouth and stand, kissing his cheek sweetly. Straddling him with affection.

"You're not wearing panties" he said bewildered

"Didnt think I'd need em" you giggled as you slowly slid onto him. Both moaning out at the sensation. You began to move slowly adjusting to his girth, his head laid back as he breathlessly panted

"No no, look at me, look how good you make me feel" you said as you gently cupped his cheek

There is something so powerful about unraveling such a large man.

"So tight," he heaved tinted of blush across his face. You grind into your spot, moans filling up the small confessional space.

"Mmm so good, you're doing so good" you purred into his neck

"Forgive me because I find myself addicted to the feeling of her around me"

His thrusts grew sloppy, his grip on your hips stutter

"Forgive me because this addiction has costed me certainty in my faith"

He released into you for the second time, slumping into your plush chest, as you stroked his hair comfortingly.

"Amen"

[spider-stark]

LITTLE BRACKEN KNIGHT

Aeron Bracken x Blackwood!Reader

Summary - You sneak into Aeron's room at Stone Hedge.

Warnings - fem!reader, not edited, suggestive language, hints towards smut but there is none, secret relationship trope ig, blackwood!reader being a little shit

Word Count - 1k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

When Aeron Bracken opens the door to his bedchambers, the overly loud groan of Lord Samwell Blackwoods daughter is the very first thing he hears.

“Finally!” His heart in his throat, Aeron's scrambles to close the door. behind him. Over on the bed, you're completely unbothered by the idea of a guard overhearing you, saying, “I was beginning to think I’d be waiting for you all night, Bracken.” 

Frustration is the first emotion to take hold of his mind. 

Aeron knows that Blackwoods lack common sense, but he hadn’t thought you reckless enough to do something so asinine as sneak into Stone Hedge! He doesn’t wish to imagine the things that might’ve happened to you if the guards had caught you. Or, even worse, if Amos Bracken himself had caught the daughter of his sworn-enemy roaming through his castle halls. 

It’s this—the fear of what might have happened to you if Amos had gotten his hands on you—that drives Aeron straight into a lecture. “You would’ve been waiting longer than a night,” he says, his voice stern as he secures the door, “if my uncle had found you and thrown you in the dungeon.” 

“Well,” you drawl, watching with an amused grin as Aeron double—and then triple—checks the locks, “it’s a good thing he didn’t find me then, isn’t it?” 

Aeron’s certain your insolence will be the death of him one day. 

“The Gods were on your side tonight,” he says, sending a silent prayer of thanks to the Father for keeping you safe. “But you can’t make a habit of this. You might not always be so lucky and–” 

His voice falters, words dying on his tongue as he turns around. For the first time since entering his chambers, the Bracken knight takes a good look at the reckless—and utterly breathtaking—woman that had snuck in to greet him. 

You wait in the center of his bed, knees sinking into the plush mattress. Shadows dance across your form, chased by the soft, flickering flames of candles precariously placed about his room. Dressed in a thin, silken gown that clings to every peak and curve, Aeron can hardly decide where to look first. 

A roguish grin tugs at your lips—and, at last, the boy decides it’s safest to settle his focus there. “Weren’t you saying something?” Your dark eyes narrow into a playful stare. “Let me guess—” you feign thought, tapping a finger against your chin once twice before turning it on him—“you were going to tell me that, should my luck run dry, you’ll be incapable of saving me should Amos Bracken wish to string me up from the gates of this very Keep. Right?” 

Aeron hadn’t planned on using those exact words, but the sentiment was more or less the same. After all, while this was the first time he’d had to lecture you on breaking-and-entering an enemy Keep, this wasn’t the first time he’d discussed the dangers of you impinging upon Bracken land. 

“And now,” you add, boredom permeating your tone, “you wish to lecture me on how much safer it is for us to meet in Pennytree, instead.” 

“Because it is safer,” Aeron counters. It takes all the Bracken knight's willpower to keep his gaze locked on yours, knowing that if it veered south he would surely lose this argument. “I know it’s not to your liking, but meeting at the Tankard ensures that both of our heads will remain firmly attached to our body.” 

The Gold Tankard is an inn lying just beyond the boundaries of both Bracken and Blackwood land, nestled in the heart of Pennytree. Ridiculously overpriced and riddled with rogues and swindlers, the place is no better than a gods-damned cesspit. 

Pouting, you lean forward, pressing your palms against his mattress.“The Tankard’s beds are gross and lumpy,” you whine, rubbing your hands against the soft quilt covering his bed, “and yours is so clean and comfortable.” 

Aeron swallows on a too-dry throat. “I believe you’ll find death to be far more uncomfortable than a lumpy mattress.” 

“Possibly.” 

You lift a shoulder in a careless shrug, one of your straps gliding down your arm. You don’t fix it, letting it pull the neckline lower, your cleavage spilling from it. Aeron’s resolve wavers, eyes dipping low. 

You smirk. “But it seems my luck hasn’t given way just yet.” 

Aeron wishes he was a stronger man. Wishes he was capable of resisting such blatant seduction—such manipulation! 

But alas, strength has never been a virtue of his. 

His boots scuff against the floor, abandoning his better judgment in favor of you you you—his most coveted possession and his most forbidden desire, the center of his universe and the bane of his existence. 

When he’s close enough, you reach out a hand. A hand grazes his chest, clutching the fabric of his tunic and pulling him down. His knees are pressed to the edge of the mattress, your lips hovering before his. “So, what will it be, Ser Bracken?” 

There’s a taunt there, a special brand of Blackwood impertinence that makes his very bones itch. 

“Will you make me wait even longer,” you ask him, “with your wasted lectures?” 

Your other hand lifts from the mattress. Thin fingertips graze up his thigh, inching closer and closer to where he most wants to be touched by you. His lips parts, his breaths coming shallow and fast as your touch drifts to his waistband, fumbling with the laces there. 

Indeed—strength was a virtue lost upon him. 

For you, Aeron Bracken would beg. 

For you, Aeron Bracken would do more than beg. 

He would put his titles and station on the line, let the realm question his honor as both a knight and a lord. He would disgrace and debase himself in the eyes of his House, let his uncle declare him a traitor to their line. 

With you, there was no line he wouldn’t cross. 

No threat he wouldn’t face. 

“Or,” your lips brush against his and he forgets what it means to breath, “will the little Bracken knight grow a pair and fuck me in his uncles castle?” 

a/n - wrote this in an hour because I was frustrated with my other work. can't write smut, so it ends where it ends 🫡 idk what this is honestly-but I'm posting it so I can delete it from my google docs lmao.

also my computer kept trying to autocorrect Samwell to Sawmill and I just thought you should know that

[libertyybellls]

A LITTLE DEATH !

kianna’s masterlist

☾angst, ✩ fluff, 𖦹 smut

finnick odair;

silver soul☾

you’ve been reaped for the 68th annual games,as you say your goodbyes you realize the ocean is not the only thing you are leaving behind.

I don't know why I bite☾

few years after winning his games, finnick endures the trials of being a victor and all he needs is a helping hand

if you built yourself a myth☾

finnicks failure of being able to save you and bring you to district 13 will eat away at him until he is blessed to see your face again.

sea, and the rock below☾✩

you and finnick mentor your tributes before their games. yet only finnick can understand your unease.

on the sea, we'd be forgiven☾

you have had everything drained from you- family, body, dignity but there is one thing the capitol cannot take from you and it's the love you and finnick share.

babydoll𖦹

finnicks a tease, so mean. but there's nothing more he wants to hear in his life than your gratifications.

hidden prayer ✩

finnick realizes he loves you. and after all, there's only one thing in this world keeping him sane.

kiss it off me ✩

finnick can’t take his eyes off of you in any crowd- but he can take care of you, what’s new?

ride cowgirl 𖦹

a slow kiss with finnick has a twist of fate- mores a twist of positions.

knew the game & played it

PART TWO —> KILLS TO KNOW

finnick has to let you go to save you- he can’t simply see you off if he still has his teeth sunk in- he has to make you hate him.

believe me now? ☾✩

finnick odair, to love you- to protect you, battles it out with tough love that you can’t quite see.

winnners prize 𖦹

tough love turns to rough luck, mentor!finnick cant help but worship you, and victor!reader can’t wait to have him. (continuation of believe me now?)

female robbery ☾

meeting finnick at your capitol victor party, he is nothing short of entranced.

one for the road ☾

you’ve been finnicks since the moment you met, after your interviews you break- who can fix you better than him?

pity party ☾

finnick odair is a man of many fortunes, all he wish he didn’t posses- red, hot, and irate he lets it fool you.

-FEVERS !

a finnick odair series.

0. PREFACE

blurbs!

space song✩

honeymoon w/finnick ✩ suggestive? (𖦹)

finnick & hijacked!reader☾✩

finnick & hypergirly!reader☾✩

married life w/finnick

more to be added soon ;)

requests open on account profile!!

if u steal my writing i’ll turn into a psycho crazy bitch zombie ok! - kianna :)

[luvsreve]

500 FOLLOWERS

⠀⠀𓇼ㅤׁ ⠀𓈒⠀ㅤ©︭ nıeve⠀⠀y ⠀ m︭𝖺︭r︭⠀ ✩︥⠀⠀🌬⠀ ⠀⠀.작은⠀⠀⠀𝟼꯭𝟽⠀ ⠀⠀𓇬ㅤㅤׁ⠀⠀𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟⠀⠀﹠ ⠀♡

OH. MY. GOD. 500 FOLLOWERS.

I am SO thankful for every single person who has helped me reach this milestone. I would love to host an event, but I'm just so busy with school and my personal life that I just don't have time to even daily post, but I'm working on balancing everything so I hope to at least start posting every other day soon!

Thank you to everyone who has supported me and encouraged me to keep going, I keep all of you guys in my prayers and I wish you nothing but pure happiness and good luck for the rest of your lifetime. All 500 of y'all are pure angels sent from heaven. Thank you guys for taking time out of your day to view my mood boards and like them, if it wasn't for any of y'all I wouldn't even be making this post right now. I value every single of of yall. All of y'all.

Thank you again for supporting me and giving me the platform that I have. This is a huge milestone for me and I hope to have even more with the help of y'all. Thank you so so so much 🩷.

Shout out to my moots/friends & fav blogs that y'all should totally check out and support bc their talent is unbelievable 🩷🤍

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[adviceformefromme]

My sister found the perfect provider man. He’s very good looking, kind, loves romantic gestures and bought her more flowers and gifts since they dated than she ever got before. He changed careers and told her he wants to make more money for her. I feel happy for her and I love seeing men who act right. There’s also a part of me that feels a little jealous. I really want to have a relationship like theirs with a man who’s so generous and caring. And it feels so frustrating to see something I want so bad and something I’m trying to manifest for myself happening to someone else. To be honest a lot of things I’m working towards just seem to fall into my sisters lap. She’s one of the luckiest people I know. She makes jokes about it herself. I’m not saying she’s not hard working or that she doesn’t deserve any of it. I love her and want her to live a good and happy life. I feel embarrassed about my jealousy. I just wish I could have more luck in my own life. More opportunities and success and the kind of love she found.

This is a great question, firstly having someone who has the exact things you desire in such close proximity is a BLESSING. And once you remove your blockages, you will allow these exact desires to enter into your life. But in order to do that you need space to hold your desires, and it sounds like the space is currently filled with limiting beliefs. Those low vibrations of jealousy, unworthiness, desperation are actually blocking you from receiving, receiving your deep desires. So my question is..What is the story you tell yourself about this situation? What is the broken record in your mind that you keep repeating? Is it that your sister is lucky and you’re not? What do you believe about yourself that is keeping you in lack?

You need to get to the root which will be the emotion. You feel as if you are not enough. You feel you are not worthy. Etc etc.

Maybe something happened as a child that made you think you were not worthy and your sister is, an old belief you are still carrying from aged 7, still with you today unless you do the work to change that belief.

Ways to clear old beliefs:

Firstly, set the intention. Declare out loud you are ready to let this go, you don’t want to carry this anymore, in whatever words make sense to you, say it out loud, in prayer or journal your intention. Be honest about the shame you are carrying, the weight it feels to carry this feeling daily. Call on the divine to guide you in removing this from your life.

- working with a mindset coach for 3-6 months to clear blockages

- EFT tapping with a therapist, blocks can be cleared in 1-4 sessions

- Daily Joe Dispenza Meditations or another meditation focused on clearing old beliefs (repetition is crucial for reprogramming minimum 21 days)

- Invest in a daily in a self care ritual, meditation, journaling, affirmations, create something that works for you.

- Be mindful of the words you speak with friends and family. Pause mid sentence if you find yourself speaking on anything lack or limiting.

Dms are open if you need more support xoxox

Ps. This is also a great perspective on jealousy by @blissfullyecho

[rosedpetal]

Like Father Like Daughter

Summary: Lloyd Hansen is a former CIA agent slash mercenary slash sociopath who gets off on the doing the most unspeakable things. When his high school sweetheart gets in a coma, he finds out she took from him more than just his heart and a promise ring.

Pairing: Dad!Lloyd x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: mentions of death, hospitals, murder, guns, violence, Lloyd being mean to his daughter (you), daddy issues dynamics, death of a parent.

Author's note: this is a repost.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist

You were growing to hate hospitals. The sterile smell, white walls, floors and ceilings, doctors and nurses wearing those annoying scrubs that made everything much more depressing.

You were growing to hate light colors.

Tired of reading, you took a sip of your water bottle, eyeing your mother's asleep form on the hospital bed. She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes and tubes everywhere. She was stable, but they had no idea when she would wake up. 

Or if she would.

"She got lucky." The doctor said to your grandma, after explaining the after a car accident of that nature, your mother being alive was a miracle.

You didn't think of luck at all. Not when you got out of school earlier, seeing your grandpa in tears while he crushed your limbs in a hug, sobbing in your hair and repeating like a prayer that everything was gonna be okay.

Your sweet, cheerful and loud mother have been at such a state for so long. Two months in, and you could hear the nurses gossiping when they thought you were asleep cuddling your mother.

"Keeping this patient is useless. She's as good as dead".

You started to lose hope, but you couldn't give up. Your mother had to come back at some point.

She was the only person you could count in. Of course, your grandparents were great, but a child's place is with their parents. Or just your mother, in your case.

When you were younger you pried as much as you could, but she would refuse to tell you anything about your father, only telling you that he walked out on her before he even knew she was pregnant and she never heard of him since.

Somehow, you didn't believe her.

But after the accident that almost took your mother from you, you couldn't really care less about a father that you never knew.

And as the time passed by, all you did was pray that your grandparents didn't lose hope too. After all, the decision to keep the life support on was theirs.

"You can either tell me what the hell is going on or I can just gut you like a pig, which one is gonna be?" Lloyd grinned at one of his spies. The man had been working for him for years now, a record that was getting Lloyd uneasy.

He would have to kill him soon.

"I found something interesting, that's all." The man replied, and poured a generous dose of whiskey on one of the glasses that was by Lloyd's coffee table.

Lloyd looked at him, amused.

"I didn't realize you had a death wish, getting yourself comfortable with my Scotch and everything."

"It's not for me, Hansen. It's for you." Klaus replied, emotionless. 

Lloyd sat up, getting tense. Klaus passed him the glass, and he almost gave in the impulse to use it to break the moron's skull.

"I'm gonna ask again, and if I don't get a straight answer my gun is gonna get friendly with your brains." Lloyd took the gun from the holster and aimed at the man's head.

"Your ex fiancée is in a coma".

Lloyd let a breath out.

"And that's all this fucking tension about? Why would I give a fuck about that bitch? It's been more than thirteen years-"

"She has a daughter about that age." Klaus cut the infuriated Lloyd. "She looks a lot like you. Blue eyes, dark hair. Same dental arch..."

The same motherfucking asshole smile. He wanted to complete, but kept his mouth shut. Lloyd was impulsive and unpredictable, and after working with him for long enough, anyone would get a taste of almost getting murdered by him on his multiple mood swings.

Lloyd's head tilted to side.

Oh fuck. 

"So, you're saying that I'm stupid enough to get some bitch pregnant by accident?"

"You popped the question to her, thought."

"I was young and stupid."

"And now, you're just stupid."

"For the sake of our fake friendship I'm gonna let that slide. And why were you even sneaking into her shit, anyway?"

"I wasn't. Do you remember the bounty you collected two months ago on that senator's head?"

"How could I forget?" Lloyd rolled his eyes. "It was a hell of a car chase."

"Well, the senator driver's car crashed into hers."

...

Lloyd really loved irony. But not when it came to bite his ass back.

After Klaus showed him some pictures of you in the hospital your mother were in, not even him could deny. You looked exactly like him, but with long hair and without a mustache in your baby face.

"Fuuuuuck!" He threw the glass across the room, hitting the wall, and getting it smashed into million pieces. 

His sneaky job almost got his daughter's mother killed, for fucks sake. How would he tell you that? Did he even want to face you?

Klaus kept quiet while Lloyd threw his tantrum. Then, he spoke:

"When am I taking you to her?"

Lloyd turned to face him, angry.

"I'm not gonna meet some brat just because I found out she came from my balls!"

He couldn't really care less about your mother. He loved her (or thought he did) and then it was over. It was okay, he got over it. But he was not about to meet a child he knew he never wanted.

And what benefit would he bring to your life, dragging you to his mess?

Lloyd made up his mind. He would just ignore your existence.

"In what room is she, again?"

"301, boss." Klaus replied, trying to hide the smirk on his face.

Lloyd rolled his eyes, but chose to ignore him nonetheless. He was neither soft nor wanted to be a dad, but he was a curious motherfucker. So, the next day, first thing after knowing you were out of school, he made Klaus take him to the hospital.

"I'm here to see my daughter. Her mom's on the room 301."

The receptionist, who was not really interested, just pointed directions and waved him off. When he got in front of the door, he almost chickened out.

Oh, come on, he was not to be afraid of some child.

Even if it was his.

So, he knocked on the door. He knew you'd be there. You've never left your mother's side after school hours, and your grandparents didn't mind indulging you.

He heard a soft "Come in!" and took a deep breath before finally turning the doorknob.

It was a lot to take in.

Your mom, the only woman he ever loved, looking small, pale and pathetic. It was nothing like the girl he knew in her teens, bubbly and all-smiles.

Then, he saw you. Looking at him wide-eyed, and how the blue in your irises were similar to his. Your dark brown hair, that would match his if he didn't dye it jet black. Your nose were your mother's: a cute button on your rosy face, as well as your pouty lips.

"Who are you? I think you are in the wrong room."

You inquired. He could tell you were afraid of him. Arms crossed on your chest, biting your upper lip nervously.

He cleared his throat.

"I'm... Your father." It surprised him how he didn't sound anything like his usually cocky self. Your eyebrows rose, and you scoffed.

"Went to buy a pack of cigarettes and never found your way back to my mom?" You sassed.

"That's not fair! First of all, I don't smoke. And second, I had no idea your mom was pregnant! I would chase her to hell if I did. She was the one that left, ended things and disappeared like I meant nothing!" Lloyd pointed his index finger to you, incredibly offended.

"Which makes me think what kind of fuck-up you are if she ran away from you, then." You retorted, and noticed his reddened face.

"What's with all this prejudice? I could be the nicest fucking person you know. Maybe I have an animal shelter, ever thought of that? What if I read to old people in asylums in my spare time?"

"Do you?"

"No, but that's not the point here, young lady."

"Do you know how do I know you are not the nicest person? You said a bad word." You pointed, lips curling upwards.

"You said it first!" He accused, and this time, you grinned.

Maybe your mom left him because he was a man child, after all?

Your smile faded. You looked at your mother, and she nothing about her changed. Not even her heartbeat. You thought that perhaps she would get an incentive having your so-called-father in the room after such a long time.

"What's your name?" Lloyd asked, and you huffed.

"Why are you still here?

"I'm not leaving until I get to know you. My name's Lloyd, by the way. Lloyd Hansen. What's your name?"

"Get out!" You let out an exasperated sigh, regretting it immediately. You've always been curious about who your father were, and now you had the chance to.

"Do you really want me to?"

The pout that formed on his lips almost made you laugh again. Okay, he was charming, you had to give him that. So, against your better judgement, you gave in.

"No, please stay."

Lloyd didn't know if it was the sad way you almost pleaded for him to not leave, but he felt like a magnet was pulling him towards you, and you got up of the chair, sitting on your mother's bed and pointing the chair to him.

He sat and started fidgeting with his fingers.

"I'm Y/N. I'm thirteen. I like to read, but I'm also lazy and my mom's always scolding me to study more. That's me in a nutshell." You finally said, feeling a little disappointed that you had nothing better to say.

"Sounds like a normal thirteen-year-old to me. Have you ever killed an animal?"

"Excuse me, what?"

"Just kidding!" Lloyd said, fast. He noticed the change in your demeanor, which meant that topic probably upset you. He'd make sure to find out about that later.

"Oh my god, have you?" Your jaw dropped, finally putting two and two together. "It's that why my mother left you? You are some kind of psycho that tortures animals?"

"I don't torture animals!" Just people, Lloyd thought. "It was an innocent question, okay?"

"Yeah, you sound really normal to me." You rolled your eyes. "Get the fuck out, Lloyd. Or I'm gonna call the cops on you, being my father or not, which I don't believe you are by the way."

"Okay, in case you haven't noticed, you look exactly like me and nothing like her."

"You're not the only man with blue eyes and dark hair in the world, Lloyd."

"I totally agree with you on that, and this is why I brought this!" Lloyd announced, taking a ziplock bag out of his pocket with a q-tip inside of it.

"What the hell is this?"

"Open your mouth, kiddo!" He grinned at you, getting closer with the q-tip between his index and thumb.

"I'm not giving you my DNA, you creep!"

"Okay, hard way it is." He sighed, almost sadly. "I love you."

Your jaw dropped again, and he took the opportunity to stick the q-tip in your tongue, collecting the saliva. Before you could shriek, he put it back in the ziplock.

"You fucking asshole!" You yelled. "I'm calling the security-"

"Keep your voice down." He warned you, and you whimpered at the sudden change on his behavior. Then, he got up and gave you a smile. "It was nice catching up with you, kiddo. Toodles!"

You were still stunned when he left.

Days went by, and you haven't seen Lloyd since. Part of you were angry at yourself for being disappointed by that, but you just shrugged it off and told yourself it was better that way.

And it was really surprising when your class was over and you saw him leaning against a black car with black windows, with sunglasses adorning his face. He had his arms crossed over his chest, a lollipop on his mouth and that fucking weird mustache still on his face.

"Ready to go home?" He asked, almost bored when you finally reached him.

"Are you insane? You look like a creep! You're gonna freak the other kids out, Lloyd!"

"Okay, I was expecting a nicer greeting from you. Haven't you missed me?"

"No." You lied. "I'm not going anywhere with you, you could be a child molester for all I know."

"All right, now you've really offended me." He threw the lollipop on the curb and took the sunglasses off. "Don't even joke about that, I'm not that kind of sicko. Get in the fucking car right now, and don't make a scene."

Gritting your teeth, you let him open the passenger door for you and got inside his car. It was probably really expensive, with nice leather seats and everything.

"My grandparents are gonna kill you." You stated when he got in the driver's seat and turned the engine on.

"They're not doing shit, kiddo. I paid a little visit to them earlier, and they agreed to let me take you with me for a little while. They didn't even fight, by the way." Then, he leaned closer, like telling you a secret. "I don't think they like you that much."

"Oh, you're insufferable! Did you threaten them? Did you hurt them? Lloyd, I swear to god-"

"I didn't do shit!" He snapped, gripping the steering wheel in his hands. "Your grandparents fucking owe me for screwing everything up for me, now keep your mouth shut and enjoy the ride!"

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Didn't I just tell you to shut up?"

"Fine!" You screamed in defeat. If he wanted you to stay quiet, you were going to give him the silent treatment. He turned the radio on, with a satisfied smile on his face.

Lloyd drove like a drunk teenager, getting angry honked at in a ridiculous amount of times in just a few minutes. If you were still on speaking terms with him, you would've scolded him for that.

It was when he ran the red light that your panic attack came. You started hyperventilating, feeling sweat in your palms, and you chest tightened at the dread that cursed through your veins.

He side-eyed you, noticing how you were grabbing the seat with white knuckles.

"Hey, kiddo, be nice to my car."

You didn't move, though. You closed your eyes, feeling your head starting to spin. Oh no. You were about to throw up.

"Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you? I told you to-"

He got cut off by the sight of the tears streaming down your face, and he slowed down. You finally felt your breath coming down to normal, and you sobbed.

Lloyd pulled over on the street, and you opened the door as fast as you could, just in time for you to vomit in the curb. He put his hand on your back and you stiffened, but calmed down when he stroke it gently.

"I'm sorry, kiddo." He felt like a dick. He realized you were probably terrified of cars now that your mother had been in an accident. You kept silent and finally closed the door, wiping your mouth with your sleeve.

He drove slower then, leaving town on the main road and approaching the countryside. When he entered a nice trail and stopped in front of a giant iron gate, you almost rolled your eyes. Of course this prick was rich.

The area looked lovely all the same. You could picture yourself leaning against the big oak tree while reading a book, a tire swing on the lowest branch. 

Lloyd finally turn of the car, and turned to you.

"Before we go there let's just go over the basic rules. Not calling me daddy: it's Lloyd for you. Not testing my patience. Not sneaking into my things. And just so you know, I'm not above beating a child. It's better if you know your place by now.

You didn't spare him a second glance and got out of the car, adjusting your school bag on your shoulder. Why was he such an ass? It wasn't like you wanted to be there. You were perfect fine vegetating by the side of your vegetating mother.

You followed him inside, admiring the immaculate white floor, the tapestry and all that expensive shit that looked extremely nice. His grand foyer had two staircases, and a giant chandelier hang on top of it. 

"The first room on the left is yours. Mine is on the right. Do not go into my room. Or any other rooms. If you get bored just take a nap or something." He clarified. You couldn't bite back the remarks anymore.

"So you just brought me here to patronize me?" You asked him in an angry tone.

"Patronize you? Oh, your mother raised a little feminist, didn't she? Bet you despise all men and all that bravado." He mocked you.

"No, you're actually the only man I despise, Lloyd. Don't worry. I'll stay out of your way, I don't feel like torturing myself by spending time willingly with you." You spat back and went upstairs on the left staircase. When you got in the midway he yelled at you:

"By the way, the kitchen is free and open 24/7. Don't go starving on me, kiddo!"

You gave him the could-shoulder and opened the first door on the left, looking wide-eyed at the interior.

There was a four-post bed, with luxurious tule canopy adorning with the purple comforter set. On both sides of the bed, twin nightstands that had the same royal-looking lampshades. In the center of the room, a fur round white rug, with a coffee table and two baby pink armchairs around it.

There was a vanity table that was also white on the corner, and the wall facing the bed had two doors. It was probably the closet and the bathroom.

On the other wall, two french windows that had beautiful creme colored curtains. The walls had a flowery wallpaper, and coming from the high ceiling a pending light.

"Pretty fucking awesome, right?"

You let out a shriek, holding your chest in your hand. When did he get behind you? Sweet Jesus.

"Don't I even get a "Thank you, Lloyd, for your kindness"? I did redecorate it, you know. I started doing it even before I got the lab results on your DNA."

You turned your head to him.

"Oh, yeah, about that. 99,9% your father. We still got a lot of catching up, don't we, daughter?"

"It's Y/N for you." You told him and put your bag on the bed, making an acquaintance with it. That mattress would surely be a problem when you'd have to get up to go school. "Where are my things, by the way? I need my stuff."

"Your grandma packed you a suitcase with your things. I threw your old laptop out, and bought you a new one. A new phone too. It's all set up for you. There are new toiletries in your bathroom, and I don't know if you wear makeup or not so I bought anyway and put in your vanity.

That was nice, but you didn't care.

"I want to see my mom."

"No, you don't. You're not spending the rest of your life by her side, that's not healthy."

Your face heated up in anger.

"You don't have a say in that! I want to see my mom! What if she wakes up and I'm not there?" You yelled, and he just scoffed.

"Then I take you to her the minute she does. Now suck it up and be nice for a change, will ya?"

He left and closed the door. You hid your face in the pillow and screamed, crying until your head hurt.

It was almost eight p.m. and Lloyd spend the rest of the afternoon in his office, yelling at people over the phone and doing boring paperwork for Carmichael.

It was a nice distraction, because he didn't knew what the hell he was going to do with you. He would not be parading you in public, he had too many enemies to pull a stunt like that.

Maybe bringing her here was a mistake, he sulked. But he couldn't just let you go, not now that his most trusted man insisted he took a paternity test and arranged a nice bedroom for you in his home.

He could send you away at any moment, thought. He'd never get attached to an insolent mini him just because she was cute and shit.

Oh no. Nope. Not going in that territory. It was foreign, dangerous and he couldn't go back once he got there.

When he looked at his watch he cursed. He'd had to make something for you to eat (and hire a cook). 

Lloyd sighed when he reached the kitchen. It wasn't that he was a malfunctioning adult, but he couldn't cook if his life depended on it. He took no shame in admitting that he ate instant noodles when he wasn't dining at a nice restaurant, but he couldn't let you eat that crap everyday.

He googled an easy recipe. Thank God he'd made time to do the groceries, otherwise you two would have to go out to eat, which was a big no for him.

But he didn't know where his kitchenware was. Or what to cook. Or how to.

Okay, you'd survive with instant noodles tonight, he decided.

"What are you doing?"

"OH MY GOD!" Lloyd screamed, seeing your post-sleep face behind him. "Don't you ever sneak on me like that, I might end up shooting you, you little shit!"

You glared at him.

"Do you own a gun, Lloyd? Are you some mafia lord or something?" You pried, curiously.

"What I do is none of your business, and if someone asks you about me, you'll play dumb, which I suspect it won't be hard for you."

The harshness in his voice made you change the topic really quick.

"At least I'm not dumb enough to not know how to cook a meal. Now get out of my way while I make something for us to eat." You sassed at him and opened the fridge, looking for meat. You could feel his gaze burning into you, but paid no mind to him. 

In thirty minutes, you had the meat seasoned and sitting nicely in the oven, while you made some salad.

Lloyd was sitting in one of the chairs by the counter, angry-texting someone. 

"Dinner's ready!" you hummed, feeling your mouth watering at the smell. You got two plates in the cupboard and offered one to Lloyd, who gladly took it from you and started serving himself. You suspected he was quite hungry, but said nothing to spoil his sudden good mood.

After finishing your diner, you put the dishes away and soaked a sponge with water and detergent before scrubbing them, absent minded.

"When did you learn how to cook?" Lloyd asked you, too stubborn to compliment you.

"My mom taught me when I was tall enough to reach the oven and do the dishes. Told me I had to be independent and all."

"You two are pretty close, huh?"

"Well, she did raise me by herself."

"Okay, now you're just being an asshole."

That earned a grin from you.

Since it was Saturday, Lloyd decided that he would let you sleep until noon if you wanted to. He was reading his newspaper (okay, he was actually trying to solve the crosswords) while the maids mopped the floors and dusted the things.

He was surprised when he saw you dragging your little feet down the stairs, hair everywhere, yawning and wearing plaid pants with a black strap top.

"Slept well, kiddo?"

"Very." You replied, rubbing your eyes. "What are we doing today? And why do you have so many maids? Can I see my mom just for a while?

"Why do you ask so many questions?" Lloyd whined. "Thank God I wasn't around when you started to speak. Must've drove your mom out of her goddamn mind. Okay, how about we go shopping today? We can even have ice cream after, what do you think?"

"What about mom?"

"She's not going anywhere, is she?"

"Fuck you." You spat. 

Lloyd was stunned. He tore his gaze from the newspaper to you, and before he could scold you, you were running back to your room.

"That's not very nice, kiddo!" He yelled. "Say that to me again and I promise you'll be regretting it!"

"Sir?" One of the maids, a middle-aged woman, hesitantly spoke to Lloyd. "The girl was crying."

Lloyd sighed. He knew you for less than a month and you were already being an annoyance. His patience was running thin, he didn't know how much more of you attitude he could take before snapping.

He knocked on your door, and heard you sniffling.

"Go away!"

"Okay, kiddo! I hope you're decent right now, because I'm coming in!" Lloyd announced before opening the door to you with your face buried in the pillow. 

He sat on the bed, and you moved further from him when you felt the mattress sinking by your side.

"I'm sorry." That you are a little drama queen, he wanted to add. "Guess jokes about your mom are off limits, then?"

You said nothing, raising your middle finger to him with your face still on the pillow. He chuckled.

"So, we're even? Because I'm not having you talking back to me all the time, kiddo. At some point I'm gonna lose my shit and the moment that happens, I only hope for your sake that you're a good runner."

Your chest rose lightly, a sound of muffled laughter coming from you.

For a little while, things were good. Great, even. And that's how Lloyd sensed some shit would hit the fan at any moment.

Maybe you were too excited to finally have a father figure in your life, but you were actually happy for the first time after your mom's accident. Lloyd would have a chauffeur take you and pick you up from school, and you'd visit your mom once a week.

Your grandparents would go to Lloyd's house to see you and check on you (you learned later that it was their "arrangement" because Lloyd actually had something to hold over their heads).

You were eating chocolate ice cream while rocking softly in a bench swing Lloyd had people built for you with him on your side drinking his Scotch.

"I killed a cat once."

You said it so casually as if you were talking about the weather, and Lloyd choked so hard on his drink that you had to pat his back. 

He stared at you with tears in his eyes, still coughing.

"Well, it was an accident. I was three or four? I don't remember. Mom had found a cute grey kitten and she sheltered him for a few days in our home. I was so excited to have a cat!" You hesitated a little, and frowned at the memory. "One day, mom was cooking dinner and I hugged the cat. Hard. I suffocated him, and when mom found us she lost her mind."

"She yanked my arm really hard and screamed so harshly at me that I still have flashes of that moment. I cried, because I had no idea what was happening, and I didn't realized I've killed it."

"We never talked about that again, but I think my grandparents found out what happened later, because I spent some time living with them after that. They weren't on speaking terms with mom, and when she got me back they would supervise us and shit."

Lloyd considered you for a while.

"I appreciate us bonding over this happy story, but why are you telling me this now?"

"Because now I realize why she reacted that way, and why she disappeared on you. When you asked me if I had ever killed an animal when we first met, it didn't cross my mind. But then, I had a feeling. Killing animals in childhood is a classical sign of psychopathy. Mom overreacted because she thought I was just like you, Lloyd."

You looked over Lloyd with a little grin on your face.

"Stop being cute, kiddo. And just so you know, I'm a sociopath, there's a little difference. I wasn't sure that was the reason your mom left me, maybe she finally realized I really was fucked in the head in an irredeemable way. I reached out to her only once, and your grandfather got in the way and told me to leave her alone. They told me a little while ago that they knew about the pregnancy and they wanted to keep you from having me around." 

"Well, the effort didn't matter in the end, but okay."

"And the fact that I'm a sociopath doesn't bother you?"

You shrugged.

"Not really. You could be worse, it's not like you killed mom or something."

Lloyd tried to keep his cool. He was fucked.

You tiptoed the stairs, trying to make the smallest noise possible. Lloyd made you pinky promise him that you were going to stay in your room, but you were so hungry! And it didn't help you that he filled the kitchen with your favorite snacks.

You sighed in relief when you got some chips, a Ben & Jerry's cup and a bar of Hershey's. You hugged your food and when turned to go to your room, you screamed.

A man, about Lloyd's age, eyed you up and down, smirking.

"Damn, you're a bit young for him, aren't ya pretty thing?"

You cringed so hard at the way he said it, feeling disgusted. You just walked past him, trying to go back to your room as fast as possible, but he grabbed your arm, making you drop your snacks.

"Tell me, pretty girl... How old are you? Fifteen, fourteen... Wouldn't be my youngest, though." 

You wanted to kill him with your bare hands. With renewed animosity, you kicked his groin as hard as you could, and he let go of you to hunch to his front, wailing.

Before you could react, you heart a gunshot. The man's head blew with the impact, his body dropping to the kitchen floor and staining the impeccable floors. You were so shocked that you couldn't move.

"Go hide behind that door. Don't come out until I go there, you hear me?" Lloyd asked, voice hushed. He was already dragging you to the pantry room and locking you there. "Stay fucking quiet, kiddo."

You heard more gunshots and some yelling, and you laid on the floor, hugging your head as best as you could, your heart hammering in your chest.

All of this lasted maybe five minutes, but it felt like fucking hours. You were beginning to imagine the worse. Maybe someone hurt Lloyd, and he wouldn't come to save you. 

When you heart the lock of the door, you tried to drag yourself under a shelf, dropping everything.

Okay, you were screwed. You screeched when Lloyd's hand forced you on your feet, feeling so relieved that you hugged him.

He froze. And then, he explode:

"What the FUCK were you thinking? Coming out of your fucking room, knowing I had people over? Do you realize how dumb you were? Do you know what could happen to you if they realized you are my child?"

"I didn't know..." you tried to defend yourself.

"I TOLD YOU! I fucking told you Y/N, don't come out of your room when there's people over. They could be armed and they could kill you! You-" he interrupted himself, trying to find words to say. "You're grounded! For the rest of your life!"

"I already apologized!" you cried out, annoyed.

He took a deep breath.

"So what? You still could've get yourself killed!" He started raising his voice again. "If you get yourself killed, what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? Ever thought about that?"

Oh. You just realized it wasn't about you disobeying him (or making he kill so many people).

He cared about you.

"Maybe I would finally be in peace, without you nagging at me every fucking hour." You defied, chin up.

He sighed. And somehow, you knew you were in deep trouble. You swerved from him, his fingers barely grazing on your skin.

You let out a little scream while you ran from him, who was chasing you like a madman. You got in the nearest room and locked the door, breaking in a fit of hysterical laughter. 

You were so fucked right now.

"You fucking brat! Open the fucking door right now so I get to beat the shit out of you!"

"No!" You managed to yell back between laughing and sobbing.

"Get out of that way, I'm breaking this fucking door!"

"I'm gonna throw myself out of the window!" you threatened.

"I FUCKING DARE YOU! You little bitch! We are in the first floor! Go ahead, we're just getting started!"

You yelped when you heard his body colliding with the door, and ran to the window. You managed to escape just before the wood broke under the pressure of Lloyd's rage. You ran through the back of his house, the chilling breeze doing nothing to you as you were pure adrenaline. 

You yelled when he grabbed your middle and threw you over his shoulder, putting you down almost immediately.

"My fucking back!" Lloyd snapped, annoyed and panting, with his hand on his lower back. You burst into giggles. This bastard of a man could have his hands bloody, but how he managed to be so ridiculous doing so never ceased to amaze you. "Think this is fucking funny? The only reason I'm not beating you right now is because I'm tired, okay?"

"I thought we were just getting started." You teased him, and he started to chase you again.

Later that night, Lloyd had Klaus taking the three bodies out of the house. As you scrubbed the floors to clean the blood (Lloyd's punishment for you) you couldn't help but joke:

"You just traumatized me, dude. I'll probably need lots of therapy and shit to recover." 

"I think you'll survive." He replied coldly, leaning against the wall while he watched you.

"I had no idea a head could just blow up like that!" You continued. "I think there's some brain under my nails."

"Shut the fuck up. This is your fault."

"I don't feel guilty though. The man thought I was some plaything to you, he even said that he had younger girls... I'm glad he's dead."

"Not that I'm complaining that you are being surprisingly brave, but I think it's best if we hide your... Tendencies. At least in front of other people. Okay, kiddo?" He said and turned to leave to his office.

"Okay da-Lloyd." You corrected yourself before you could actually say the word Dad. Lloyd stopped in his tracks. "Lloyd, I'm so sorry, it slipped! I promise you I'm never doing that again."

He didn't turn to face you. You thought that was it, he was mad at you but would let it slide. You never saw the tears forming in the corner of his eyes, because all he wanted right now was for you to see him as your father.

It didn't take long for things to go down to shit. Lloyd was having a surprisingly smooth day, going to the city to have a meeting with Klaus and the rest of his minions. He left you alone in the house and when he got back and saw you sobbing on the front porch he something was terribly wrong.

He barely walked out of his car when you came at him, angry and punching his chest with your tiny fists.

"YOU ASSHOLE! YOU'RE THE REASON MY MOM GOT IN THAT DAMN ACCIDENT!"

He couldn't control your anger, tossing and screaming at him, punching and slapping and kicking. And he let you. Because he knew it was what he deserved.

When you were tired out, he tried to hug you, but you flinched away from him, letting such a pity cry come out from your throat that he felt like the Grinch when his heart grew so big it broke into his chest.

He could feel his heart breaking too.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry, you have to believe me when I say it wasn't on purpose. My minions were chasing this really bad guy, and his car crashed into your mother's."

You said nothing, the tears rolling down your cheeks, your eyes puffy and nose red. 

"I had no idea of her whereabouts after she broke things off with me all those years ago, you have to believe me when-"

"When you say you were just chasing a bad guy? Like you aren't one? Should I believe this was some sick coincidence, when you are rotten to the core, Lloyd?" you cut him off, the words cruelly coming out of your mouth. "My grandparents are coming to pick me up. I don't wanna see your face ever again. I wish it was you who got hurt, not my mom."

Your grandparents arrived shortly after that, and by their short "Hellos" and "Goodbyes" Lloyd could say they knew everything too.

But how did you find that out? 

Later, drowning the second bottle of Scotch in his office, when the gears in his mind finally stopped turning.

That asshole.

Klaus' lifeless body slipped from Lloyd's grasp. His motivation to reveal the truth about your mother's accident couldn't be pettier. Lloyd always knew that snake would betray him, but he hadn't expect it to hurt so fucking bad.

He got his most trusted men to keep an eye on you, and for weeks he got little news on you, the aching on his heart always there. When he found out that your mom had a brain death, all the hope of getting your forgiveness left him.

Still, he couldn't just leave you on your own.

Lloyd watched as you placed white flowers on your mother's grave, your hair messy and some streaks falling from your bun.

You suddenly turned to him, feeling watched. You rolled your eyes when you recognized the mustache, scoffing in annoyance. Lloyd took careful footsteps towards you, his hands on his pockets.

"I'm sorry, kiddo."

"You already said that." You replied softly, tired of arguing and tired of grieving.

"No, Y/N. I'm sorry I wasn't around to guide you through your early years. I'm sorry I wasn't enough that your mother felt like raising you by herself would be better than doing it with me. I'm sorry for storming into your life and messing you up, and I'm sorry for all the pain I put you through, and I promise you, it wasn't on purpose. I'd never hurt you on purpose. I'm sorry I'm not a good father." He finished, his eyes watering. You sniffed and gave in, hugging him and sharing your heartbreak.

You already lost a parent. You couldn't just turn your back on the other. You turned your head to him, still in his embrace: 

"Take me home, dad. We have a lot of catching up to do."

Lloyd happily complied. This time, he would make it right.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

hi! I really like the last post, so here am I with another idea after my 3 cup of coffee before 12 pm

what if, by pure shear luck and celestia only knows how, reader escape the other Archons and go back to Fontaine, there furina is like "I hear your prayers! so you are now locked with me!" but she is shocked because reader is hugging her and saying "thank you! please dont let them take me!", plot twist, fontaine reader is a devoted follower of focalors (yeah they are that crazy) and have a hydro vision.

How do you think the yandere Archons would react, hearing reader is happy with the hydro archon?

I imagine Neuvillette having migraines more often, because the reader encourages and applauds Furina's scenes lol

Thank you!

i love when people request continuations of other pieces, i think it's fun to continue on with the story :D

Warning: this post contain yandere-themes, including manipulation, lying, mentions of violence, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti would be utterly distraught, ready to wage another Archon war with Furina simply for this. He can’t just storm into Fontaine and demand for you back, as much as he’d like to, but he can send someone else to do it for him. Someone like a devoted follower of his.

Venti smiles in amusement, watching as the faint color of the Anemo element overtakes the citizens' eyes. While he wasn’t entirely welcomed in Fontaine, the crazy Hydro Archon being willing to fight him on the spot, he could certainly infiltrate their borders using a beloved devotee of his. With his presence ingrained so deeply in this man’s mind, he could use merely a few words to make the man move as he pleased. And so, with enough mindless zombies sent to Fontaine to retrieve you at any cost, he figures you’ll be returning home one way or another.

Yandere!Zhongli would prefer to keep things civil, wanting to spare violence is necessary. Those days are behind him, he claims, meeting with Neuvillette. Dragon to Dragon, Zhongli politely requests the return of his beloved. You’re sick, he claims, having accidentally ingested a small dose of poison that made you delusional, and he’s so sorry to have bothered Neuvillette with your presence.

Zhongli is so calm and polite, meeting at the entrance to Fontaine with Neuvillette as they discuss your current status like the civil dragons they are. Ever the worried lover, Zhongli explains how he had brought you to Sumeru for a vacation when you had gotten a bit turned around, eating a plant you shouldn’t have. This led to you going a little crazy, seeing things and claiming to hear the ‘Archons’ speaking to you. If Neuvillette wouldn’t mind, Zhongli just wishes to pop in for a moment to collect you and then the both of you will be on your merry ways. Out of both Furina and his hairs. 

Yandere!Raiden would wait for nothing, storming through Fontaine as if it were her region. She doesn’t even care to ask permission or anything, simply throwing open the doors to the Court of Fontaine, pointing her weapon directly up at Furina. In a calm, steady voice she demands the return of her beloved.

It was a startling moment to all involved, the sudden movement of the doors being flung open, the shouts of guards in the hall as they tried to stop the Raiden Shogun from entering. It was fruitless though, the sharpened end of her signature weapon steady in her grip as it aimed towards Neuvillette. She wasn’t here to play around and any form of non-compliance would be met with either the end of her weapon or the promise of her return in the form of war. She doesn’t mess around when it comes to her beloved, her eternity. If Neuvillette and Furina won’t hand you over willingly, then she’ll simply tear the nation apart piece by piece as she searches for you herself, determined to not leave without you.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

104/150 with lethal company?

104) I can hear it calling my name

.........

[Y/n], January 29th, [Log 001]

---I'm afraid this will be my last log. So I'm keeping this encrypted.

Everyone's gone, but I'm still here. And I'm terrified. We started on this job as strangers, and we became family. Now I'm all alone because of a stupid mask. A piece of scrap we should've just sold off.

But he thought it would be funny to wear. I don't blame him. He was always a jokester, willing to do anything to turn a frown upside down and make light of our dreary trips. I know he didn't mean to hurt us. He thought it was harmless. Honest to god we thought so too.

Until he started vomiting blood and tried grabbing me. He tore off my helmet, along with my tracker, but I managed to get away. I still don't know how. But I wish I was smarter about it, because I got lost.

Then I heard the ship's engines.

They must've thought I was dead. Or maybe they all died and the autopilot kicked in. I'm not sure. I don't even know the current time. But what I do know is that I'm stuck here now. Possibly forever. I could make an SOS but that monster is still outside. I had to barricade myself in this storage room and wait until it goes away.

It keeps knocking. I can hear it calling my name. But I know it's not him.

To anyone who reads this, don't pick up the porcelain masks. They aren't worth shit. It'll tempt you to put it on. Don't. You'll find better loot elsewhere. If you see anyone already wearing it, kill them. Stun them. Run. Whatever. Just don't let it take you.

And if you see me wearing it, put me out of my misery. I promise I'll understand---

Finishing what would likely be your final log, you sighed and slumped back against the wall, letting the tablet slip from your hands.

You don't know how long you've been stuck here--whether it's been hours or days.

But all you know is that the Masked on the other side of the door hasn't left. It was using your coworker's corpse, mimicking his voice as it pounded on the steel and tried convincing you to let it in, even shattering the window. For some reason it refused to leave you alone, and kept begging and begging until it began screaming unintelligently...

That would go on and on until eventually it would cease, weakly clawing at the door, only to rinse and repeat once it rested its voice.

You were starving, trying your best to ration the jar of pickles you were luckily able to find in this storage room.

Unfortunately, that's as far as your luck will go at this point. They were sour and made you want to vomit every time you ate one. But while you didn't want starvation to take your life, you weren't exactly sure how you really wanted to go out instead.

It sure as hell wasn't gonna be from that bastard who took away your friends.

"It's clear....all clear......come on out....the ship is leaving..leave....out.....COME OUT..!! COME OUT!! COMEOUTCOMEOUT-!!"

With your heart hammering in your chest, you curled up and covered your ears, squeezing both eyes shut. 'Fuck, it's losing its mind again...this is a nightmare..why did I ever take this job?' You tried not to focus on the screams so much, and instead prayed for some kind of miracle.

But in space, would anyone really hear your prayers?

Yet somebody must have, because the screaming abruptly stopped a minute later, being replaced by the sounds of heavy thumping and growling drawing near.

You only knew one other alien creature that made those.

And you knew it was pissed off.

Getting up and backing away from the door, you fearfully clutched a stop sign as you heard a series of terrified shrieks, roars, slamming and crashing sounds....before silence followed, save for the low growls you heard earlier and chewing noises.

Cautiously, you went back over and pushed aside one of the things covering up the window, and the sight on the other side was quite nauseating:

The Thumper was hovering over the Masked's body, teeth covered in blood and flesh as it tore into it, clearly wanting to savor this midnight snack.. But eventually it decided to drag the rest of the corpse away and to another part of the facility, only leaving behind a few shattered fragments of white dirty porcelain.

You couldn't believe it.

You were actually happy that a Thumper, of all things, saved your skin.

But you sure as hell didn't want it coming back for a second lunch. Now was your window of opportunity to get out of here. The adrenaline pumping through your veins was the only reason you were able to grab your loot and book it out of that storage room, being careful not to run into that Thumper again.

At least now you could go outside and (hopefully) send an S.O.S.

[wisterialwhymsy]

han jisung ˖°❀ my jokes are my armour

songfic! songfic!

this is the first in a series based off of songs by The Amazing Devil- a lyrical alt-folk band formed by Joey Batey and Madeleine Hyland. i've been listening to them for a while and came up with the idea of a series based off some of their songs!

Han Jisung x gn reader

Song: Drinking song for the socially anxious

wc: 3.7k

warnings: slight angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, detailed (ish) descriptions of social anxiety, mentions of peer pressure, potential hints at a panic attack, strong language and mentions of sex (not involving reader or Han), alcohol use and drinking, reader could be percieved as autistic/neurodivergent, they're literally so awkward for most of it lol, Han plays D&D for the plot, catboy joke

In the back of a cab like a puppet with no strings Untangling my headphones 'Cause sometimes they're the only thing That keeps my head in place Keeps my head in place

You find yourself mentally humming the lyrics, the words echoing in your mind as you anxiously attempt to untangle the mess of headphones. While you loved your friends, you wished they’d stop inviting you to their loud house parties and whining that you’re “no fun” when you decline. Realising you were having no luck untangling the mess of headphones, you let out an exasperated sigh, shoving the twisted mess into your lap. You looked out the window, taking in the swirl of nightlife as you passed by bustling streets already filled with drunk revellers and their regretful sober friends.

“Almost there.” The taxi driver said,  startling you out of your reverie. You hummed in acknowledgement. As you got closer to the address, your anxiety grew. Sure, your friends would be there, but it was a party, at some stranger's house. You didn’t do parties, and you most definitely didn’t do strangers. Why did I let them guilt me into this? you think bitterly. 

“We’re here.” The driver says, pulling you from your spiralling thoughts once more. You quietly thank him and pay before exiting the vehicle, shivering at the bitter cold. 

“Okay… they said it was number 3,” you whisper to yourself, scanning the buildings until you find the right house. You find yourself standing in front of a surprisingly nice house. The dark grey brick is highlighted by lighter grey exterior accents and a sleek black door. Even from the outside, you can hear the soft thump of music.

Arriving at the door, I hope to God I'm not the first My heart is tearing pages From that funny story I rehearsed And I know I won't be long 'Cause I know I don't belong

The words seem to circle in your head, amplifying the nerves gnawing at you as you stand in front of the door. You look at the watch on your wrist: “10:27”. The party was supposed to start at 10:30, but your friend told you to just “get there whenever”. Usually, you’d wait outside for a few more minutes, not wanting to be the first person there and get stuck in an awkward conversation, but it was bitterly cold, and you didn’t want to freeze to death. You mentally prepare yourself as you knock on the door, silently praying your friend will be the one who opens it. You’ve rehearsed a funny story in case you got stuck in some sort of conversation and you’ll only stay for a few hours- just long enough to get your friends off your back. The music grows considerably louder as the door opens, and there, standing before you, is your friend’s smiling face. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief—your prayers have been answered.

'Cause though my jokes are my armour And my kindness is my sword The party swirls around me in a dress I can't afford And I do my best to breathe But they're stealing all the air

“Heyy! Oh my gosh! I’m so glad you could make it!” she greets, hugging you and ushering you inside. She drags you to a random room before picking up two glasses, handing you one.

“It’s so nice to see you!” She gushes. “You will not believe the week I’ve had. So, I went on this date- and oh my god- she was insane. She kept telling me about her ex and get this- she actually showed me their Instagram! Like who even does that?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wowww. Maybe she was secretly a wingwoman, trying to set you up with her ex.” 

She laughs, almost spilling her drink. “I wish! She was honestly so hot. Anyways, how’s it been with you? Anything new?”

“Um, not much. I got a cat. She’s pretty co-” You’re cut off by someone waving her over.

“Oh I’m so sorry I have to go. I might be getting luckyyyy.” She sings.

“Oh no problem.” You smile awkwardly as she walks away, leaving you alone in the crowded room.

You stand there silently, occasionally taking sips of your drink, hiding your disgust at the bitter taste. People and conversations swirl around you, the air is thick with the scent stifling of alcohol and sex. 

In one corner, a couple is basically glued together, their steamy makeout session bordering on indecency. You roll your eyes, turning to the other to look at the girl screaming at her boyfriend to “keep his eyes to himself”. 

You huff, turning towards another room, eyes desperately searching for someone you knew. The music was louder here, the scent of alcohol and sex was stronger somehow, almost suffocating.

Resisting the urge to gag you make your way through the house, searching for a quieter room.

And the hum from the fridge’ll Sing me soft little vigils As all my steps too far keep telling me "This is who you are", I should go home I'm not lonely, just like being on my own

You stumble into the kitchen, finding temporary solace in the quiet hum of the fridge. There’s still a few people in here, however they’re much quieter, simply engaging in quiet conversations about questions of the universe. 

Two girls mumbling next to the pantry suddenly erupt into a fit of laughter. You flinch, the sharp sound grating against your eardrums.

I should go home, you think. Or anywhere else really. You think back to earlier that evening.

And the hum from the fridge’ll Sing me soft little vigils As all my steps too far keep telling me "This is who you are", I should go home I'm not lonely, just like being on my own

You stare at the wine bottle sitting on your kitchen bench. You didn’t really drink wine, but your friend gave it to you as a gift.

“So Maggie, should I get drunk here or at the party?” You ask your cat, who’s perched upon the counter. You gently pat her soft fur as she offers a soft “mew” in response.

“On one hand, going would get my friends off my back, and I’ll be able to drink something other than wine. On the other hand… that involves people. New people. People I do not know.” You ponder aloud, continuing your gentle pats. Maggie purrs and pushes her head into your hand.

“What do you think Mags?” You ask, scratching under her chin. 

“You’re so lucky.” You coo, babying the tuxedo striped cat. “You’re such a cute little lady, you don’t have to worry about people thinking you’re weird.” Maggie offers a sharp meow before jumping onto the floor, scampering away.

“Ugh. I don’t want to go.” You whine, pressing your palms against your eyes. “How is this so easy for some people?” 

Gonna go home and show my cat some memes 'Cause he's awesome like me Like me

You hold back a groan, wishing you could just go home to your cat. You huff in frustration before leaving the kitchen, searching for some sort of quiet respite from this hell.

You walk down the hallway, pressing your ear to each door, careful to avoid stumbling in on any couples trying to open the gates of Mordor.

Fucking hell You think I just need 5 minutes of quiet.

You press your ear against the final door. Silently praying for it to be quiet. 

“Thank fuck” you whisper when you’re met with silence.

You quickly open the door, too overwhelmed to properly check the room. You slide down to the floor, holding your head in your hands, too worn out to hear the quiet “Huh?” that echoes the room.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Why, oh why did he agree to this? He thinks to himself.

“It’ll be fine! You’ll have a great time. Maybe you’ll even meet someone cute!” Felix had said. Jisung knew it wouldn’t be that easy- but it was hard to deny his best friend, especially when he gave him that signature sunshiney smile.

Regret overcame him as soon as he arrived. The loud music, the swarming crowd of people, sticky with a mix of bodily fluids, and the suffocating smell of sex, sweat and alcohol made him sick to his stomach. 

At some point someone handed him a drink, leaning down to tell him what it was but he couldn’t hear them over the deafening music so he had no idea what it was. He took a sip before cringing, forcing himself to swallow the revolting drink.

He tried his best to be involved, sitting on the couch until an overzealous couple started passionately making out, their affections bordering on obscene.

“Gross” he muttered, recoiling. He quickly stood up, leaving his barely-touched drink next to the couch before he quickly made his way towards the hall.

Making his way down the hall he spotted a room with the door slightly open. Jisung peeked inside, desperately hoping no one was inside. Upon seeing it was empty he opened the door, quickly slipping inside before closing the door behind him and sighing in relief. 

In the room was a double bed, covered in various coats- presumably where the host told people to leave their stuff.

He sighed, laying down on the bed, too exhausted to care about the pile of coats.

Jisung honestly had no idea how long he had been laying there, the muffled music almost blanketing him in a sense of calm as he pondered his existence. Suddenly, the door snapped open and shut with a sharp sound, before he heard the thud of someone sinking to the floor with a loud, exasperated sigh.

He leaned up on his elbows, his eyes searching in the dark for whoever interrupted his quiet pondering. 

“Huh?” He whispered upon noticing a figure leaned against the door. He quietly moved towards the lamp on the bedside table, turning it on.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Now I'm lying on a bed full of coats Trying desperately to cope When you open up the door, say something stupid like "You're lying on some coats" I say, I know “Just sometimes nice to feel what it's like To be in someone else's coat”

You jump as a soft light floods the room.

“What the fuck?” you mumble, trying not to scream. You look up and find yourself looking at a stranger who looks as shocked as you do. He looks to be in his early 20’s, with round eyes and soft cheeks, and short black hair that frames his shocked expression perfectly.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I had no idea anyone was in here!” You apologise, standing up. “It’s ok! You just scared me.” he laughs as you turn towards the door. 

“Wait.” You pause, turning back. “Were you lying on a bed of coats?”

“Um…” He stammers, blushing. “Yes?”

“Why…?” You ask.

“Um.” He mumbles, searching for an excuse. “Sometimes it's nice to feel what it’s like to be in someone else’s coat?” He looks about as confused as you feel.

“Okay then. I’ll leave you to it?” You turn towards the door again.

“Wait.” The man stands up, fidgeting with his hands. “Uh, are you ok? You sounded, um, stressed.”

“Oh! Uh. yeah. I’m fine. Just parties aren’t really my thing. Too loud and everything.” You look at the floor, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh me too! I’m only here because my friend guilted me into being here so…” He trails off.

“Same! I’d much rather be home with my cat than here.” You laugh.

Now we're bursting at the seams 'Cause the noise is crushing us We think it's so much worse than it seems But that voice unsaid is rushing us

He gasped. “Wait! You have a cat?” His eyes shine with excitement.

“Yes! Her name is Maggie, I got her recently. She’s so cute.” You laugh at his reaction.

“Oh my gosh can I see?” He asks before stopping himself. “Sorry, that was weird. You don’t have to… I just really like cats.” 

You curse yourself internally, why is this random man so cute?

You giggle at his adorable antics. “It’s ok! I love showing her off. She's so cute!” You gush as you pull your phone out of your pocket.

You scroll through your camera roll, silently begging that there were no embarrassing photos.

“I’m Jisung, by the way.” The man introduces himself, somehow still awkward despite sounding more at-ease.

You introduce yourself. “Lovely to meet you!” You smile as you finally find the perfect picture of Maggie, showing it to him.

He almost screams in delight. “OH MY GOSH! She’s so cute!”

You giggle at his reaction, quickly searching for more pictures to show him.

Soon enough, the two of you are sitting on the bed, chatting away whilst you show him more cat pictures.

“She’s adorable, oh my gosh!!” Jisung’s eyes somehow grow rounder as he looks at another photo. “Little baby Maggie!” 

You laugh once again, internally freaking out at how cute he was.

And in a moment of total rapture With every strength I have I ask if you play D&D And your face lights up like you've woken up From this endless fucking nightmare Of pretending this is you

You accidentally swipe on your phone, a picture of some pretty dice showing up. “Oh whoops.” You mutter, embarrassed.

“Do you play D&D?” He asks, sounding excited.

Your face lights up. “Yes! I’m currently doing a campaign with some friends.”

His eyes brighten and an expression of pure joy spreads across his features. “Me too! My friend Chris is DMing a campaign for me and some friends right now! I’m playing this really cool tiefling bard.”

I think I just fell in love, you think to yourself as he continues rambling. You must have been looking at him weirdly because he pauses.

“What?” He looks confused. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You blink. “Oh sorry- I’m just really excited that we both play D&D!” You smile, trying to mask your internal panic.

His face softens. “Yeah! It’s really cool. We should play together sometime.” He pauses. “I mean only if you want to, we don’t have to of cour-”

“I’d love to.” Cutting off his anxious rambling with a soft smile.

This is us, this is me and this how we're meant to be But your smile tells me I'm safe And that voice unspoken's heard 'Cause if God make us all in his image Then God's a fucking nerd

The two of you continue talking for a while. He shows you pictures of his dog, Bbama and you two discuss your favourite D&D adventures. You have no idea how long you’ve been talking for when you hear a knock at the door.

You both scramble up, off the coats in the bed. You exchange an awkward glance before you finally open the door.

“Hi, uh. My girlfriend’s coat is in here. Do you mind if I grab it?” A young-looking man asks politely, standing at the threshold.

“Oh yeah of course!” You chuckle, before awkwardly going to stand beside Jisung.

The man enters, giving you and Jisung a weird side-eye as he digs through the coats.

“Found it! Thanks!” He says hurriedly before scuttling out of the room, closing the door behind him.

You barely glance at Jisung before the two of you fall to the floor in a fit of giggles.

“Oh, looked so scared, oh my god!” He gasps out between giggles, making you laugh even harder.

After a few minutes, when you've both caught your breath, you sit on the floor, backs against the wall. You glance down at your watch.

“Holy shit it’s 2am!” You gasp, shocked at how the time has gone by.

Jisungs eyes widened in shock. “What? There’s no way…” He opens his phone, noticing that the clock does in fact, read 2:12am. “What the fuck?”

You laugh at his shock.

“I should go home soon, Maggie will be worried.” You sigh, trying to hide your disappointment.

He gasped. “We can’t have that!” He pauses. “I should get home too, my cat’s probably also worried.”

“You have a cat?” You asked confused.

His eyes widened. “Oh no um. My roommate… is very cat-like? So my friends and I jokingly call him a cat.”

“Your roommate’s a catboy?” You ask, bursting into laughter at the look of horror on his face.

“I- He isn’t I swear. He just acts like a cat and has 3- oh my god,” He rambles, his face growing red as he tries to explain himself, before he himself bursts into laughter.

And I'll sing silence And ask my glass of wine for guidance I might not make it tonight And I'll speak with my eyes You think I'm neat, I'm not surprised That I might not make it tonight

“Well, as funny as that whole thing sounds, I should really head home.” You sigh.

You look at him, thinking about how this night started. About how you almost didn’t come to this party.

He hums, looking almost sad.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, worried.

“Oh, um.” He looks into your eyes, almost as if calculating something. “As much as I don’t want Maggie to worry, I really enjoy talking to you. I know we’ve only just met but it feels like I’ve known you forever.” He looks to the ground, almost embarrassed.

Your eyes soften and you reach out, placing a gentle hand on his cheek and tilting his head to look at you. “I feel the same.” His eyes light up. 

“I really enjoy talking to you. I know that I’ve only known you for like, 4 hours but-” You pause, looking into his adorable round eyes. “Has anyone told you your eyes look like boba?”

A look of pure confusion crosses his face. “What?”

You move your hand from his face to cover your mouth. “Oh I did not mean to say that out loud.”

He laughs. “Boba?”

You look to the ground then back at him. “Not- not exactly like boba, but your eyes are so round and adorable…” You trail off, flustered.

“Like boba?” He asks, grinning.

You laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Uh- yeah. I don’t know why I said that I’m sorry.”

He laughs again, and even though you’ve heard it all night, you swear you’ll never get tired of it. “It’s okay, I get it.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, it’s soft and easy, and makes you unsure about how you ever managed to feel nervous around him.

Because I don't find this easy like you Gonna go home and dress my cat up like Batman 'Cause he's awesome like me

You glance at the door then at your watch: 2:28 am. “Okay I really need to go, Maggie will be waiting for me.”

“Yeah okay, we shouldn’t keep her waiting.” Jisung hesitates as you both stand.

“But uh” he rubs his neck, looking shy. “Can I walk you home or something?”

You smile, “As much as I would love that, I live like a 40 minute walk away.” 

“Ohh…” He looks to the ground, looking disappointed before looking back up at you with a bashful grin. “Could I… take a cab with you? Gotta make sure you’re safe and everything.” “What about your cat-boy roommate?” You ask, trying to restrain your giggles.

“I- he’s not-” He stumbles. “I can text him.” He says with a sigh of defeat.

You giggle and smile warmly at the flustered boy. “Then I would love that.”

And I'll sing silence (and I don't) And ask my glass of wine for guidance (find this) I might not make it tonight (easy, like you) Gonna go home and tell my cat (I'm not lonely) I'm not lonely if I'm (I just like being on my own) With you

The two of you exit the party together, weaving through the slowly dwindling crowd until you’re finally outside, basking in the refreshingly cold air.

You continue to chat as you lean against the wall, waiting for the cab. You learn that you have even more in common than you thought you did. 

“Where is this cab?” You exclaim as he chuckles. “It’s freezing out here.” 

Jisung wordlessly takes his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side. “Better?” He softly asks. 

You manage to get out a soft hum of approval in between your furious blushing and internal freaking out. At least you thought it was internal- until you noticed Jisung giving you a soft, knowing smile.

Almost as if by divine intervention, a bright yellow taxi rolls to a stop in front of you.

The two of you get into the back of the cab. You slide into the middle seat, surprising Jisung. He hesitates for a second before settling in next to you. You lean forward to tell the taxi driver your address, before leaning back, instinctively leaning into his warmth. 

He tenses for a moment before quickly relaxing, subtly shifting towards you. “Comfortable?” He asks quietly. 

“Mhm.” You nod. “You’re really warm.” You hear him chuckle.

You sit in silence for a while, watching as the streets go past in a blur.

In the back of a cab, like two puppets with no strings We share a pair of headphones 'Cause sometimes they're the only thing That keep our heads in place Keep our heads in place

“Do you wanna listen to music?” Jisung asks, turning his head towards you slightly.

“Oh sure!” You hum watching as he reaches into his pocket. His arm gently brushes yours, making you blush.

He takes out his phone, a pair of wired earbuds already plugged in.

He offers you an earbud, a small, nervous smile on his face as he opens his phone. “So what do you want to listen to?”

As the cab continues on, you feel relieved, his shoulder warm against yours, a quiet reassurance, maybe the party wasn’t so bad afterall.

This is a work of fiction, based entirely on my personal perception of him, and does not reflect his actual character or actions.

Maggie is my friends cat not mine, she's very cute :)

[heartfullofleeches]

Graduation Teaser

A teaser for my yan final girl and slasher/loser reader fic. Shooting to be done by tomorrow, but no promises. Reader's gender is never stated, but in the full fic they have a penis as there will be smut. Warnings for bullying/Reader having trauma from said bullying

-

"Class of 20XX, bitches!"

They say its supposed to be the highlight of any young adult's life.

The crossroads between the freedom of youth and the cruel reality those just stepping out into the world have to face.

You wish...

You've known that reality for a long time now. Whenever your alarm rang for school. Everytime you hid in crowds and bathrooms praying for just one normal day. When you had to learn how to treat cuts and cover bruises- That bitter, spiteful reality has beaten you, broken you, and spat you back years before your life truly began...

And now the culprits would meet their happy end.

You could see them on the stage now- Smiling and waving to family. Hugging each other and shedding a fraction of the tears you've spilled over the years with more happiness than your anguish filled heart had known since it all began. You nearly lost what little food you've been able to keep down when the girl that said your value as a person was the equivalent of that of roadkill cried over the microphone about starting school to become a nurse. It's not a big surprise to you, really, but the thought of what her future patients will have to endure or being one of those patients made you sick to your stomach. Why did they make this ceremony mandatory-

You can't do it- You can't be here anymore. Why do you have to sit through everyone who's either made your life hell or turned a blind eye to your suffering have the time of theirs? It's not fair, just looking at their happy faces makes you short of breath. As you catch it, pulling on the tight collar of your robes - you overhear whispers in the surrounding crowd. Your name slips through a few pairs of lips here and there, and it's like you've been dragged kicking and screaming back to the not-so long passed yesteryears of the past. A body moves in the endless, suffocating sea. They push through and politely decline the advances of friends and acquaintances, clearing their way towards your general direction. A smile perfected by braces they cried about and still had to wear proceeding into college singles you out and fills your chest with dread.

Oh God... Not her.

You cross your middle finger with your index. Please be looking for someone else....

"H-hey! Glad I was able to catch you before you left."

Please, please, please- You whip your head around violently as if searching for some fictitious third party. Huffing, the girl snaps the manicured talons she called nails in your face. Your entire body locks up as her nails graze your cheek. You attempt to relax your shoulders with little gained in your favor, hoping the only slight tension in your muscles would be enough for her not to notice-

But as always, luck laughs at your pitiful prayers.

She places a hand over her mouth. "Oh, gosh- Did I scare you? I just thought you didn't hear me."

It's a struggle to force yourself to look at her. You stare anywhere close enough to her eyes to hopefully give off the impression of making eye contact. The freckles kissing the bridge of her nose. Curly strands of chestnut hair dangling from the wild mane she styled herself for the occasion and refused to stuff beneath a cap. Anything to keep you from looking into those eyes. Anything to prevent believing a word she says. She seemed happy enough just having your attention.

"I heard you, but-" You swallow, tongue feeling swollen and drilled to the floor of your mouth. You force a bit of laughter that sounds more like a bark in your ears. "I thought you were talking to someone else. Big crowd, y'know?"

Her hands fall to her chest as she exhales a sigh of relief. "Oh, Good. You've avoided me so much in school I thought you might've been terrified of me!"

What a crazy assumption.

"Aaaanyways, that's part of the reason I wanted to talk to you. Got any plans for the summer?"

Yes. Say yes. Even if it's a lie, just say-

"No."

Stupid.

"Yay!" She claps her hands together, bouncing on her heels like a child who's been given permission to stay up an hour later than their bedtime. She clears her throat, smile wavering as a blush something furious rushes to her pale cheeks. "Well, not that you have nothing to do. Since you have no plans, I was kinda maybe sorta hoping you come out with and a small group of friends to my parents cabin for a couple nights. Won't take up too much of your summer. I was just hoping we could make some final memories to cherish before we all go off to college."

She's talking as if you were apart of that group. Your eyes shoot over her shoulder, following the trail she came from. There's still enough people pushed aside that you can see the little gathering she was with before. They're all there. Ali. Bailey. Michael. Luke. Every single classmate that made you beg your parents to move you to a new school til your throat felt liked it'd bleed. Of course they said no. Too many opportunities here, and to get to any other school near-by on time you'd have to wake up when the night was still young. The world around you feels so distant until the pain of your nails piercing your palm racks up your arm.

"I... actually might be doing something around that time."

"But I haven't given you anything specific yet."

You take a step back, foot catching in your robes. It felt like you were drowning in them, and her gaze. They'd definitely kill you out there or do something much, much worse. There probably wouldn't even been enough pieces for people to find. Nobody would even look for someone like you.

"Y/n?"

Your wrists is in her hands. When did that happen? She pulls you upright and smoothes out your robes. She's a lot stronger than her gentle skin and shorter height would let on. Seriously, it's like touching cotton. A few years back her touch might've meant something, but now even thorns would feel like a soft blanket if they kept you safe from here.

"I know you haven't had the best experiences with us, but it's not just me asking you to come. Everyone wants to apologize to you. Make amends wherever we can. I promise I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

Shes told that lie before. Her knuckles brush your cheek, stroking the bone in tiny circles that instinctively draws your attention towards her and lowers your guard. Looking up, your eyes lock for the first time during the duration of your conversation.

"Y/n... I need you to be there."

You stare into her eyes....

You're going to die out there.

[thoughtfulchaos773]

Magic Trick, The Prayer Card, Mikey's message

This is from a reblog on @brokenwinebox post and it was quite genius to say Carmy is holding all the cards.

The show has given us a card trick since 3x01.

This is the beginning of the trick. Chekov's gun. Telling viewers to remember your card.

Then here's the legerdemain: this same prayer card appears in Carmy's Jacket pocket when it should have been Marcus's mom's prayer card.

Carmy looks surprised at the card, flips it, and takes it in for this long moment.

The sleight of hand is that the different prayer cards appear in his jacket pocket—Mikey's card is the one that he needs the most for reflection and guidance.

This could be the card performing a magic trick of its own. Or Mikey. When this card appears, is it Mikey's spirit? Maybe Carmy did not process his grief, and it represents that. It could also represent finding purpose for those who lost their way.

Maybe a serendipitous moment and a magic trick(universe—god—Mikey) caused that Card to land in his pocket. I told someone before on here that this show has spiritual themes.

A prayer card also appears on Richie's mirror, showing that he has yet to process grief about Miky's death and has lost along the way. But later in the episode, he finds his purpose.

The other time the prayer card appears- 2x01, and it appears with the Let It RIp note- with lyrics saying candles at the altar penny in your shoe- that means prosperity in marriage.

Credit to @yannaryartside for noting this, the let it Rip note has become a string to connect Sydney to Mikey, and it started with Carmy texting Sydney before reading the note and asking her if it's okay to have it at the expo station.

Mikey is telling him good luck- go live your life! And Carmy was feeling lucky that day in 2x01. He made a business deal with Jimmy. They can continue building the bear; he wants to ask Sydney out the next moment. Something Mikey would want him to do, but Carmy, being Carmy, is pulling fake lint off his jacket, waiting for the chance. (he often plays it cool with Sydney- you should come moment he acts distracted looking at something while he asks- keep it casual, Carmy)

Sidebar: It's definitely Mikey sending a message to Carmy because in the next episode, Carmy remembers Mikey and says the taste of Chicago was really fun, and Sydney's head pops into the room at the perfect moment.

I think if Mikey is an angel, he's pointing at Sydney, and Carmy hasn't opened his eyes to see she's the one- she's the person Mikey sent. (Open up your eyes! like the song Murder for One says in 3x09 as Carmy reads the prayer card)

When Carmy takes time to read the prayer card, he puts it down. He has lost his way, and the card appears when he needs it most. As he is lost on whether he should say sorry to Claire- he's lost on how he can make it up to Sydney and tell her how he feels. He needs help with Sydney being his muse. As with @vacationship post- Are we surprised one of Sydney's hair scrunchie magically appears in his apartment when he makes a sauce based on another one of Sydney's hair accessories earlier in the episode?

Note the lyrics to the song as Carmy reads the prayer card and walks away.

There's a bird that nests inside you. Sleeping underneath your skin. When you open up your wings to speak. I wish you'd let me in. All your life is such a shame, shame, shame. All your love is just a dream, dream, dream

This is Mikey talking to Carmy in those lyrics. He's telling him to let him in- to guide him. Don't waste your life because right now it's such a shame how you're wasting it. Don't let love be a dream. Love. Don't waste the moment.

This could be the answer and guidance Carmy is searching for but has yet to see. Mikey pointed him in that direction when he inspired him enough to make his original blood orange Hamachi dish. He followed his instinct, and that led him to Sydney. If the card is about finding one's way and the card is next to Sydney's hair scrunchie, it's Mikey giving him the answer—the magic trick. It's Mikey showing Carmy his purpose.

[little-diable]

Victory - Finan x Reader x Sihtric (smut)

I rewatched the last episode of TLK yesterday, so I had to write this drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Basically pwp, the three fuck in their new chambers

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), unprotected piv, threesome

Pairing: Finan x fem!reader x Sihtric (1.3k words)

picture credit to the owner

“You know,” Finan’s voice had a rough undertone to it, staring down on (y/n), who was kneeling in front of her two lovers. “Now that we are finally here, after all these years, I think it’s time for us to properly claim you, as ours, as part of our new life.”

Just hours ago they had taken Bebbanburg, fighting their way to victory with blood sticking to their features, blood that had been slowly washed away by the pouring rain. Some may call it the gods wishes, some may call it luck. But (y/n) couldn’t care about fate, not about luck, at least not as she was kneeling naked in front of Finan and Sihtric. With dilated, lust-blow pupils she took in their frames, how the two towered over her with exposed, tensed muscles, with grinning lips, and pupils filled with anticipation.

“I think I lost count on the amount of times you’ve claimed me before.” (Y/n)‘s teasing words were swallowed by her gasp, head forced back by the hand Sihtric used to grasp her hair. The Dane had an almost challenging gaze swimming in his pupils, wondering if she’d dare to speak up again.

The rules between the three were clear, burned into her mind and body like a prayer she’d speak on her knees, with hands interlaced, and her eyes closed – if she’d pray to the Christian God that is. But now, as (y/n) was still shaking from the adrenaline pumping through her veins like a strongly brewed ale, she couldn’t help but smirk, forgoing her command to stay quiet in moments like these. “You know, I don’t think it’s fair that you’re allowed to claim me, while I have to do whatever you ask me to.”

“Look at that, Finan, I told you, our victories make her arrogant.” Sihtric’s smirk stayed glued to his lips as he studied Finan, the grin widening on the man’s lips, how he ran his hand along his beard. 

“I guess we need to hump her arrogance out of her, but first I need to stuff that greedy mouth of hers.” Before (y/n) could even begin to understand what was happening, Finan had freed his twitching cock, pushing it right past her lips, into her mouth. A surprised gasp left (y/n), eyes instantly finding Finan’s glistening ones, hoping that she’d never forget the lustful expressions tugging on her lover’s features. Finan fucked her mouth without holding back, cock forced deeper and deeper down her throat as if this was his last time to feel her, a starving man aching for the smell of cooking food and freshly brewed ale, a mere dream he’d cling to till his last breath leaves his lungs. 

Sihtric watched the scene in front of him unfold, hands working on his cock, trying to match the rhythm of (y/n)’s mouth, how she worked on the parts her mouth couldn’t reach with trembling fingers. The Dane couldn’t help but thank his gods for blessing him with (y/n), for pushing the woman into his and Finan’s life, glued to their sides till the sun would no longer alight the horizon, calling darkness to rest over the lands they keep fighting for. 

“That mouth is the Devil’s work.” Finan’s words were paired with sharp intakes of air, trying to breathe through the clashing waves of lust that tried to drown the soldier, hoping to swallow him whole as his high caught up with him. His head rolled back, hand grasping her jaw to keep (y/n) from moving away, set on filling her cheeks with his cum. “You’ll be a good girl for us tonight, right?”

(Y/n) couldn’t reply, could only hum around his cock with the corners of her mouth burning and her wrists trembling in pain. No matter how many times she’d lay with Finan and Sihtric, she still wasn’t used to their stamina, to the way their bodies worked, a mystery amongst those keeping other restless souls awake late at night. 

Her eyes met Sihtric’s, getting lost in the pupils that had watched more humans die than one could count, and yet the man emanated so much love, so much calmness, she couldn’t help but search his closeness at any given chance. With one hand she reached out for Sihtric, guiding him closer, reaching for his cock to push him over the edge as Finan fucked her mouth, chasing his orgasm. 

The moans of both men filled the room like sounds of victory, betokening the end of another successful battle. Finan’s cock twitched in her mouth as the man suddenly let go of her, gently pushing himself away from her, the same time Sihtric stepped away, pushing (y/n) down on the fur covering the cold ground. 

With Sihtric positioned behind her and Finan in front of her, the men got back to work, wanting to fill her with their cum, to leave their marks on her in the most primitive ways. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered close as Sihtric’s fingers brushed through her slit, collecting drops of arousal, finding her pulsing bundle. Her moans clawed through her, struggling to move her hands, to cling to Finan as Sihtric pushed into her without another warning.

“Oh gods, I–” (y/n) couldn’t speak, struggling to give room to the emotions thumping through her system, to the things both her lovers were making her feel. The raspy laugh clawing through Finan forced her to open her glassy eyes, pulled against his chest as her free hand worked on his cock. 

“The gods won’t help you now, love. You’re ours, ours to hump, ours to claim, ours to mark.” Sihtric’s words had an almost teasing undertone to them, leaving her trembling, deeply exhaling against the crook of Finan’s neck. Like ships sailing through the rough sea, their bodies clashed together with every ferocious thrust, allowing Sihtric to bury himself even deeper inside of her, body made to fit the one of her lover. 

The three of them would die for one another, giving their last breaths if it meant rescuing the others. Perhaps it was the path fate had pushed them onto, born to find the others, to form a trio that couldn’t be broken apart by wars, by raging fires, by those that wanted to hurt them. No, they’d forever stay like this, linked together. 

“I‘m so close, please, please let me.” (Y/n)’s voice shook, eyes squeezed shut as she added more pressure to her grasp on Finan’s cock, pushing the man closer and closer to the edge. She could feel Sihtric’s fingers digging into her hips, leaving marks on her skin as he chased his own high, set on filling her with his release. The eyes of both men found one another, wordlessly communicating with smirks glued to their lips, set on pushing her over the edge with them. 

Their moans blended together, a sound so sinful they couldn’t help but wonder if anybody close was listening to them. (Y/n)’s eyes rolled back into her head as she came with both men following moments later, leaving their stain on her with their cum. The three of them were heavily breathing, not daring to part just yet as they allowed the heavenly feeling to wash through them, searching one another’s closeness. 

“Don’t you dare fall asleep, love, that was only the beginning.” And with a smirk tugging on her lips, (y/n) kissed Finan as Sihtric pulled out of her, watching his cum drip down her thighs with a proud smile.