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venusflytrpp · 7 months

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Dear Anonymous - Carla Roson (Pt 2)

Warnings : loss of a parent, spicy but not spicy towards the end

(Reader is a female has and has two dads: Father(Demitru) and Dad(Michael))

Later that week your dad returned home from tour gathering you and all the staff downstairs to declare that your father’s funeral was next week Wednesday. So with today being Sunday, your dad hadn’t even given you a week's notice let alone pull you aside and tell you separately.

You had all the respect in the world for the staff that had practically raised you but you are his daughter. Doesn't that mean something? Weren’t you meant to be a part of the planning, helping to commemorate the life of your father.

You’d already escaped to Carla’s house three times that week after hearing of your dad’s impending arrival and once on the day of his arrival not quite ready to see him. So you didn't want to turn up at her house again, afraid you were becoming a burden. But this was unbelievable almost as if the minute your father wasn't around your dad forgot you existed.

Just as you're getting ready to leave the room your dad calls out your name beckoning you to follow him into the home office.

“Y/n, I just wanted to let you know that during the procession you’ll be walking behind me with your aunts and uncles.”

“Why aren't I walking next to you ?” you ask incredulously

“Well, I already have to hold your fathers portrait and that should be front and centre. Don’t you think so ?” You couldn’t argue with him there but it was what he said next that confirmed your prior assumptions.

“Wouldn't want everyone to be distracted comparing the two of you” If your dad had stopped at his previous statement then you would have been fine but adding the second part just confirmed that your Dad hated the resemblance you had to your father.

“Are you serious right now ?”

“What, I’m not wrong it got brought up every time you two went anywhere together”

“Yeah, maybe because i’m his fucking daughter” You practically shouted, frustrated at his blatant insensitivity.

“Y/n M/n Caregula, You will not raise your voice at me as you’re my daughter as well” He shouts back, clearly offended by your choice of words.

“Well, you don’t act like it. You haven't acted like it at all since he died'' You retaliate, finally getting the chance to confront your dad on his recent behaviour.

He goes quiet for a moment, face dropping as soon as the words leave your lips.

“Y/n I don’t owe you any explanations, you know this is a hard time for me.”

Hot tears start streaming down your face as you whisper “It’s just as hard for me, I just want you to talk to me like when I was little. When I fell in the playground at lunch and after school you sat me down and talked about how pain works, how it may hurt currently but it gets better. When our dog, Diesel, died and you both talked to me about grief, how he’d gone to a better place where he’ll never feel pain or suffering ever again.”

“I’m just asking for you to be my dad again, why can’t you see that ?” Your voice breaks on the last few words, turning around to leave study you sob “I just want my Parents back”

—-

The day of the funeral arrives and you haven't spoken to anyone since that Sunday in the office with your dad. Carla and Rebeka had tried reaching out to you after they heard about the funeral date but no answer came from you.

A staff member comes into your room to lay your suit on the table, as you stand up to take a look at it you notice that it’s one of your fathers tailored to your dimensions. Goosebumps rise along your skin as you pick up the suit holding it up to your body in the mirror.

You barely last a few seconds before you crumble to the floor clutching the suit in your hands.

A knock at the door comes unnoticed to you as the door opens and Carla walks in shutting the door behind her. Greeted by the sight of you huddled up in a ball, a suit clutched to your chest. Heavy sobs leaving your mouth, a sign of an oncoming panic attack.

She moves in front of you blocking the mirror. Clutching your shoulders to lift you into a seated position.

“Y/n” she speaks, your eyes snapping to hers “Y/n I need you too breath”

You almost feel like rolling your eyes at her as if it was that easy. But sensing the eye roll, she glares at you bringing you back to reality. Holding her stare, you begin to follow her breaths slowing down the pace of your chest.

After a while all that escapes your mouth is “It's his suit”

Carla’s mouth slightly opens to acknowledge this but it shuts just as fast as she rises to her feet pulling you up with her.

“Let’s get it on you then, we’re getting through this bit by bit.”

—

“You can turn around now” you rasp out, your throat raw from the minimal amount of talking you’d been doing.

Carla feels bad for admiring the way the suit fits on you, having to draw her eyes away from the way the sleeves hug your arms. A slight smirk arises from you about to comment on her wandering eyes but just as you were about to, your eyes catch the mirror.

You take a breath about to speak but once again no words are found.

Once again sensing your panic, Carla moves to stand fully in front of the mirror. Blocking it with her body, she tips your head down to make eye contact with you.

“You look great, you don't need the mirror to tell you that. Now we are going to walk out of here, I'll walk you to the funeral car and I'll meet you at the church” She slowly tells you, making sure that you pay attention to her words.

You give her a weak nod still unable to speak.

She takes your hand like she did in the school bathroom and leads you out of your room, down the stairs and out the front door to the awaiting car. You can see your dad already waiting inside of the car jogging his foot, clearly impatient that you made him wait.

The chauffeur opens the door and Carla goes to let go of your hand allowing you to get in but you desperately grab at her arm.

“Can you come with me?“ Your face, her eyes begging her.

She goes to answer you but a voice comes from the car

“Y/n get in now, we’re going to be late” Your dad interrupts

“Carla please…” You ask again, ignoring him

“Y/n, NOW! Leave the girl we have to go” He raises his voice causing Carla to move her arm from your grip and step back allowing you more room to get in the car.

That seems to have answered your question as your eyes slightly begin to water and you get in the car.

Just before the door shuts Carla shouts.

“I’ll see you at the church Y/n/n”

—

Carla stays true to her word as during the procession you are able to spot her on the sidelines making eye contact several times. Your Dad in front and father’s siblings on your sides slightly shield you from sight but you can still make her out.

The funeral is extravagant and dragged out as per your dad's request. With a few words from him, your fathers family members and friends. You’ve become so numb that you don’t even react to the fact that your dad never asked you to speak, just add it to the list of things he’s done. The church part of the service ends with your Dad redirecting everyone back to the house for a continuation of the service. He ushers you back to the car alongside him before you have any time to look around for Carla or even Rebeka at this point.

Enduring the evening of sorrowful looks and condolences it gets to a point when your Dad announces a song that he wrote dedicated to his husband.

Only the second he starts the first chord you recognise the song.

He was playing your song.

During music class with your tone deaf teacher, Mr Riba, he urged you to convey your feelings in a song. Though it was honestly the last thing you wanted to do, opting to curl up in a ball and cry. A few days later you’d done it anyway and you gave it to him as an audio file, causing him to rave and praise your talent comparing you to your dad.

You don’t have any idea as to how Michael got his hands on it but you can't imagine it took much effort as he glances at you with a soft smile on his face as if he’s comforting you. Of course to anyone else it would look this way but the knife in your back just twists.

He nears the end of the song and as if this day could get any worse for you, you overhear one of your aunts whisper to someone you’ve never met before.

“You know, Dimetru was on that plane to make it back for Y/n’s school concert. Imagine if he'd never gotten on that plane.”

“It's a shame she didn’t do anything to commemorate him” They whisper back.

The pin finally drops for you.

Michael is done with ‘his’ commemorative song and he reaches out for your hand as you can tell he's bringing the service to an end but you don't move. Your eyes fixed on the door and the heavy rain, you can only think one thing.

Run.

So you do.

Ignoring Michael's calls from behind you reach the door slamming it open startling everyone in the room. You're pretty sure the glass on the door broke with the force but you can't bring yourself to care.

The heavy rain pours drenching the suit and plastering your hair to your forehead as you keep moving, each rapid footstep causing discomfort to ripple through your body. Your destination in mind just causes you to push harder, chest screaming out in anguish causing you to reach a hand out to clutch at it.

By the time you've made it to the school and up the many stairs that you struggled your way up, you collapse on the roof. Your body giving up under the amount of strain that you put it under, willing yourself to move just a bit further you move towards the edge, legs hanging over, upper body laid down. As if your final act, your hand moves up to grasp at the tie, loosening it, finally attempting to get some substantial air in your lungs.

—

You’ve been laid there for what seems like hours but it's only been a few minutes when the roof door opens. Your head doesn’t turn knowing it wouldn't be long before someone came to find you. Your eyebrows only raise in suspicion at Carla’s face hanging over yours, although upside down. The umbrella perched over her head momentarily shields you from the rain.

“You made quite a scene back there” She discloses, moving to sit by you. Further away from the edge. “Made it easier for me to slip away though” Carla adds with a grin.

You don’t move in the slightest, the numbing feeling from earlier reintroducing itself. Despite her efforts to cheer you up.

“That was your song back there wasn’t it?” Still nothing from you “It was, I don’t know why i bothered asking, surprised he took it though surely as the world renowned musician he is he could have written something himself?”

Nothing yet again

“This silence thing you're doing is kinda getting old, you know I wouldn't do this for anyone right? I’m pretty sure my dads figured out I'm not there by now since I took the car.”

“Why are you here ?” The question leaves your lips almost offending her. Almost.

“In all honesty…no lo se” She replies “I’ve been here the last few days doesn’t seem right to stop now.”

This causes you to sit up turning your face to look at her, makeup untouched and dress undrenched. You on the other hand look a mess, finally getting a proper look at you she sees your cheeks covered in a light sheen, raindrops lingering on your eyelashes, eyes sunken in clearly showing how tired you were.

“You look like shit” She blurts out. You let out a quiet snort at this slowly morphing into a full blown laugh as your head nods in agreement.

“I’m sure I do!” You exclaim trying to calm down, but it just gets harder as she joins in laughing just as hard.

“I’m sorry” she says as your laughter calms down.

“Me too” Is all you say back. Confusing Carla as it doesn't seem like you have anything to apologise for.

“I'm sorry that my face is so similar to my dead fathers that Michael can't even bare to look at it” Your laughter slightly resumes but Carla ceases completely.

“I’m sorry that my father felt the need to get on a plane to see his fucking daughter. I’m sorry that I didn’t take a bigger role in a funeral that i didn’t know was going to happen until four fucking days ago” Your laughter becomes hysterical as you start swaying on the edge. Starting to scare Carla by how much closer you're getting to fall off.

“Y/n…” she speaks softly

“You, know I always thought I had the best parents growing up turns out ones dead and the other one was just bearing with my presence for the dead one”

“Y/n.” She speaks firmer than before trying to call you toward her.

“Never thought this is how I'd find out, the guy who dedicated his songs to his family, taught me to play my instruments, helped me back to sleep after a bad dream. It was all for show wasn’t it? I’m supposed to be focused on the fact that DIMETRU IS FUCKING DEAD” you scream the last part trying to block Michael from your mind.

That last shout makes you lose balance causing you to fall forward when the sound of something hitting the floor and a sharp tug at the back of your blazer jolts you into action. Getting a handle on the edge you propel yourself backwards further onto the roof. By doing this you accidentally take Carla down with you causing her to slip but you catch her before her head hits the ground.

“You idiot!” She gasps out moving to sit fully in your lap, ear pressed against your hard breathing chest. Hands gripping at your back seemingly wanting you as close as possible.

“I…I’m sorry” You really mean this one. Taken aback by the sudden influx of affection she’s showing you, speaking into her hair “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Whatever maldito idiota” Her voice comes out muffled against your chest “Never again”

“Never again” You repeat. You press a light kiss to her forehead, causing her head to raise out of your chest, eyes staring directly into yours. “Sorry… it just felt like the right time.”

“Stop apologising” she replies, eyes still holding eye contact.

Her nose brushes over yours, leaning in further she slowly closes the distance, testing the waters.

“This may not be the best moment but…Carla can I kiss you ?” You ask feeling the need to ask

She rolls her eyes breaking eye contact but moving in again whispering against your lips

“Si”

Your lips meet hers with a deep desperation. Lips crashing together hungry and insistent to keep going. Her hands move your hands from her upper back to her lower back, moving her hands back to grip at your neck pulling you closer, if that was even possible.

Your hands start to grip harder, moving to her hips massaging slightly. Desperate for the world to fade and leave just the both of you in this new found passion. Breathes deep and ragged, your lips and tongues meet over and over again, hearts hammering against your chests seemingly in sync.

She slowly pulls away causing you to whimper slightly and a smirk graces her lips. She knew you wanted more and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want more too. But she has to remind herself that although this confirmed you returned the feelings she did, you weren't currently in the right state of mind.

Not wanting to dampen your mood all she says is.

“This stays between us Y/n” You nod quickly wanting to feel her lips again but she moves back at your advance causing you to groan. “I need to hear you say it Y/n”

“This stays between us” You reply, voice raspy and spent from the effect of a long day.

Too bad the paparazzi that had caught wind of your breakdown had other plans.

AN: part two! I think it’s alright but open to ideas for this series I think maybe two more parts then I can write for others

Also elite season 7! I kinda think it should have ended earlier at most when Samuel died but 🤷‍♂️.

#elite x fem!reader #elite x reader #elite fanfic #elite netflix #elite x femreader #carlaroson x fem!reader #elite #spotify #carla x reader #venusflytrpp #kid brunswick #series : dear anonymous #series #carla x fem!reader #carlaroson x reader

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venusflytrpp · 7 months

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Dear anonymous - Carla Roson

Warnings ❌: loss of a parent, slight blood injuries… I think that’s it 🤷‍♂️

(Reader is a female has and has two dads: Father(Demitru) and Dad(Michael) )

You met Carla at one of the lowest moments of your life.

The only child of a well renowned musician, so the media was constantly breathing down your neck. On top of that your father had died less than a month ago and your dad, rather than sit you down and talk about it, continued his world tour. Telling the media that it was the best way to honour his memory rather than take time to himself.

But you’d come to the conclusion that seeing you was a reminder of him, too painful for you dad to come home to a resemblance of the man that he loved. You had your fathers eyes so you couldn't blame him because you’d suffered the pain every time you looked in a mirror and saw HIM.

Funnily enough it was during one of your breakdowns in the bathroom that Carla found you. Huddled up in the bathroom fists clenched to your chest and the main mirror broken in pieces with a huge hole in the middle. It didn't take a detective to realise that you’d punched the mirror.

Carla had been watching from afar the slow deterioration of your mental state for the past few weeks. She’d only ever known you as someone from Polo and Guzman’s childhood, apparently drifting apart as you grew up. Going from the charming young woman to the little girl who walked back into class with tears in her eyes to grab your bag once you’d been pulled out of class and told about your father’s death.

Against her head telling her to get out of the bathroom and let whatever adult found you to deal with this. She made her way towards you avoiding pieces of glass scattered around her feet. At your side she ducks down to your level, hand on your knee.

“Y/n…” she calls your name quietly. Your head doesn't move from its position on your knees. She tries again calling your name softly causing you to lift your head slightly realising that someone is calling out your name.

Honestly, Carla was the last person that you expected to see; turning towards your side. You expected a teacher who’d heard from the hallway or any other person from the class you'd dashed out of. So turning to see Polo’s ex would be a shock to anyone.

With your throat dry - your hoarse voice replies “what do you want ?”

If it was anyone else Carla probably would have taken offence to your question but to be honest she didn't know where to go from here. So she just lifted her hand off of your knee and moved it to your other hand that wasn't clearly bleeding onto your shirt. Grabbing your hand, she moves to get up pulling you with her.

“Come on, lets go”

You move to object but for some reason you were curious as to how this would play out so you just nod your head, keeping your fist hidden under your blazer but there was nothing you could do about the blood on your shirt so you just left it.

Carla steps around the glass with your hand still in hers but from the crushing of glass coming from your shoes she could tell you didn’t have the same worry. She momentarily hesitates by the door wondering if classes were over and by the noise coming from the hall she’s proved correct.

“You can go if you want to, I can't say it's very flattering to be seen with me these days.” Your voice breaks the silence. This causes Carla to roll her eyes and move to open the door.

“You think the worst of me Y/n” She replies, opening the door anyway.

The main exit wasn’t far from the girls bathroom but the path just happened to be the busiest in school. So it wasn't a surprise when Carla bumped into Polo causing you to come to halt. The weird tension between the two of them was already uncomfortable but you could bet that the fact that you two were holding hands may have made it worse.

Looking down at your hands conjoined Polo’s eyebrow raises and he starts to stare you down, eyes fixating on the blood red stains against your usually white shirt.

“Where are you going in such a rush ?” he asks Carla, causing her hand in yours to tighten.

“Home” She replies not feeling the need to give him anymore of an explanation

“With Y/n ?” He asks again, Just now you come to the realisation that Polo’s isn't the only attention that the two of you had managed to gather. Already there are people gathering by the lockers nearby trying to take notice of the state of your shirt and the marquesa’s hand in yours.

Noticing this Carla hastily replies “Yes, now we are leaving”

Leading the way she quickens her pace getting out the door and towards her driver who was clearly expecting her. This causes you to wonder as it's only midday so school wouldn't be over for at least another few hours.

—

Arriving at her house she moves towards the front door with you still standing by the car.

“You’ve come this far you might as well enter the house you know.” She calls behind her then calls out for one of the workers to bring a med kit thinking about your fist which had only just about stopped bleeding in the car proving the point that it was a deep cut.

This triggers you to rush to catch up to her as she’s already seated on the nearest sofa. You awkwardly stand in front of it not really knowing where to go from here. Her eyes rolled again.

“Your hand can't be treated if you're standing, just sit down and they'll take care of it.” You take the offer and perch on the sofa as a man takes a nearby chair sitting in front of you, reaching out to take your hand. With some hesitance you give it to him and he gets to work with the antiseptic and bandages. You flinch and grunt as he works but the glares that Carla gives you anytime you move to take away your hand cause you to suck it up and let him do it.

“Why did you bring me back here ?” You ask the question that was on both of your minds, Carla being confused herself as to why she was here with you instead of class.

“You seemed like you needed to get out of there so I got you out of there. Does there need to be another reason?” Looking you in the eyes she replies thinking that was a justifiable response.

“We don’t talk and the most you know about me is whatever I presume Polo ever told you and anything you've seen in the news. So forgive me for asking.”

“I didn’t exactly see you say no at any point so I just assumed you were on board.” she answers again but seeing how that may not be enough she adds “You’re right I don't know you but it wouldn't hurt to. Would it ?“

This seems enough so you reply “No it wouldn’t but like I said in school you're probably not going to gain anything from this so what do you wanna know ?”

Without hesitation she asks “What did the mirror do to you ?”

A slight laugh leaves your lips causing Carla to smirk, happy she managed to get a laugh out of you. Taking a moment to read between the lines of her question the smile drops slightly into a sad one. Thinking back to just over an hour ago when your music teacher couldn’t take the fucking hint and stop bugging you about your parents sponsoring some festival the school wanted to host.

“Mr Riba can’t take a hint” you snarl as Carla’s eyebrow raises prompting you to go on “He thought enough time has passed for everyone to stop walking on eggshells around me concerning my fathers death so he, in the middle of the class, decided to ask me about the sponsorship that my parents were going to provide, full well knowing that it was my father that had the idea in the first place”

“I mean forget about the way he asked in front of a classroom of nosey teenagers but he's asking me about money for the wealthiest school in the country that was supposed to come from my dead father”

As soon as the word ‘dead’ left your lips you wished you never said it. The tears well up in your eyes for the seemingly hundredth time that day, threatening to slip out. The last person you wanted to cry in front of had taken the seat of the worker that was cleaning your fist. She doesn’t move to touch you or say anything knowing that there was nothing she could say or do to make this better.

“I’m sure we could get Mr Riba fired” Your non-bandaged hand rises to rub at your eyes as a watery laugh rips out of your throat.

“We?” You question

“Yeah, we. You’ve told me so you can’t leave me out now” Another smile graces your face, one that reaches your eyes.

“Don’t worry, you're right, you know too much.”

You and Carla spend the next few minutes planning ways to get Mr Riba fired knowing you probably wouldn’t follow through.

Probably.

—-

It’s late by the time you realise you’ve probably intruded long enough so you rise out of the comfortable position you’d moved into, sprawled out on the sofa with Carla opposite you on the other side.

“Lo siento, I’ve practically taken your whole day- “

“Don’t apologise I dragged you here remember? “ She smirks, causing you to nod.

You walk towards the door passing the worker who fixed you up saying thank you, shaking his hand and sliping two hundred euros in his hand, walking away before he got the chance to give it back. Reaching the door you grab the handle turning back to Carla.

“Thank you, en serio, I really needed that. You're not as cold hearted as they say.” you finish with your lips curling up in a teasing smile.

She just rolls her eyes feeling the need to pull you into a hug. Taking your hand on the door she pulls in round her waist moving her arms to your shoulders, encircling you in a hug.

“I don’t do this for anyone, consider yourself special” after a moment she pulls away looking in your eyes “Anytime Y/n. I mean, it doesn’t seem like you have anyone in school except for Rebeka.” She slightly grimaces at this.

Eyebrows raised, you ask “What, is the marquesa jealous ?”

Her face drops “You wish. You should probably leave now.” She turns you round pushing you towards the door as you grab the handle opening it.

You laugh “alright, alright i’m leaving no need to get annoyed”

A cough at the door causes you to straighten up and Carla’s hands drop as she moves from behind you to your side.

You’d always known Teodoro Roson was a serious man with a cold stare from seeing him around at high class parties your parents had been invited to but being on the receiving end caused chills to ripple down your spine.

“Mr Roson, Good evening, I was just leaving.”

Raising his eyebrow at the obvious he replies “ Y/n Caregula, I can see that but what's the rush join us for dinner. I’m sure Carla wouldn’t mind.” He turns towards her, giving her a patronising look.

Luckily for Carla you can tell when you're not wanted. “No, that's fine, no ones waiting for me at home but I’m sure somethings prepared.” The wide grin you sport seems to only irk her father, enlightening you further at his slight discomfort.

“Well, that’s fine then my driver will take you home as I didn't see a car here for you.”

You take him up on that offer as it seems you forgot about the getting home part as Carla had taken you straight from school. “Thank you sir” He seems to be lightly appeased by the respect you're showing. Turning towards Carla you tell her “Thank you again for today Carla” Confusing her father as to what today was but she just responds with a nod acknowledging your thanks.

“Get home safe Y/n”

You nod walking down the front steps approaching the open car door when Teodoro calls out behind you.

“Oh and sorry for your loss Y/n, he was a good man”

So you just nod still entering the car not feeling the need to look him in the eye. Once in the car you just face the driver telling him your address, not turning towards the window till you're out of the compound.

A part of you wants to turn around and punch the man for talking about your father like he was an afterthought, like he wasn't your every waking thought for every hour of every day. Another part of you was just so tired not wanting to deal with Carla’s dad right now.

AN: that’s part one down, part two soon then I’ll get to writing more for this and other fandoms !

#elite x fem!reader #elite x reader #elite netflix #elite fanfic #elite x femreader #carlaroson x fem!reader #spotify #carla x reader #venusflytrpp #carla x fem!reader #dear anonymous #kid brunswick #elite #series #series : dear anonymous

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