Tumgik
#she's so wonderful and so terrible and such a mess and so beautiful i love her
its-avalon-08 · 1 day
Note
op81 reader forgets theme anniversary sounds great! it's always the other way round so this is such a great switch
mismatched plates & fairy lights (op81)
Tumblr media
the fairy lights oscar had strung across their tiny balcony twinkled softly, casting a warm glow on the room. he'd even snuck out earlier to get y/n's favorite takeout – the one they always got on special occasions. tonight was their two-year anniversary, and oscar's heart thumped a happy rhythm in his chest.
he set the table with their mismatched plates (the ones they'd gotten from a thrift store on their first date) and lit the candles he'd painstakingly hidden around the apartment. he couldn't wait to see y/n's face light up.
hours ticked by, and the takeout grew cold. disappointment, sharp and icy, began to creep in. y/n still wasn't home. he called her phone, but it went straight to voicemail. "hey, it's me," oscar's voice cracked slightly. "just wondering where you are. hope everything's okay."
he tried again, then again, each unanswered call chipping away at his excitement. finally, the door creaked open, and y/n tumbled in, a tired smile on her face. relief washed over him, momentarily pushing back the disappointment.
"hey, sorry i'm late," y/n said, kicking off her shoes. "work just went crazy today."
"no worries," oscar managed, a forced cheer in his voice. he helped her unpack her bag, the silence in the room heavy and unexpected.
they sat down for dinner, but the magic was gone. y/n was chattering about her day, but oscar barely heard her. his eyes kept flicking to the calendar hanging on the fridge, a stark reminder of the forgotten date.
finally, the dam broke. "y/n," he started, his voice thick with hurt. "is... is there something you forgot?"
y/n's brow furrowed. "forgot what?"
tears welled up in oscar's eyes. "it's... it's our anniversary," he choked out, the last word barely a whisper.
y/n's eyes widened in shock. "oh my god, oscar, I am so sorry! I completely forgot. work was just..."
oscar didn't wait for her to finish. the hurt was raw and fresh, and the disappointment he'd been trying to hold back spilled over. "yeah, work," he said, his voice sharp. he pushed himself away from the table and stood up. "i'm going to bed."
he didn't wait for a reply, just walked away, his heart a lead weight in his chest. he crawled into bed, the sheets cold without y/n's warmth beside him. tears streamed down his face, a mixture of hurt and anger. he loved y/n, but tonight, he felt forgotten and unimportant.
the next morning, oscar woke up to a blinding light. he squinted, then sat up in bed, his jaw dropping. their apartment was transformed. fairy lights, even brighter than the ones outside, twinkled everywhere. red rose petals, forming a heart on the floor, led him to the living room. there, stood y/n, wearing the same dress she wore on their first date, a nervous smile on her face and a beautiful cake in her hand.
"y/n?" oscar breathed, his voice thick with sleep.
"good morning, sleepyhead," she said, her voice small. "i know I messed up yesterday, terribly. but I spent all night making it up to you."
tears welled up in oscar's eyes. he rushed to her putting the cake down on the table and engulfing her in a hug so tight it almost took the breath out of her. "you have no idea how much this means to me," he whispered, his voice muffled against her hair.
y/n pulled back, cupping his face. "you deserve so much more, oscar. I can't believe I forgot, but seeing the disappointment in your eyes last night... it was a wake-up call. you make every day an adventure, and I never want to take that for granted."
oscar leaned in, his lips brushing hers. "I already forgave you the moment you walked in with that dress on," he murmured. then, he peppered her face with kisses, a mix of apology and love.
y/n snuggled closer to oscar, whispering, "thank you for letting me make it up to you."
he leaned in, peppering her face with kisses, each one a tiny apology. "this is perfect," he murmured between kisses. "more perfect than the fancy dinner I was planning anyway."
y/n laughed, tears glistening on her lashes. "you're unbelievable."
oscar grinned, pulling her close again. "and you," he whispered, "are the most forgetful, amazing girlfriend a guy could ask for."
he reached for a rose petal on the floor, tucking it behind her ear. "now, how about we eat this cake and make some pancakes together? the kind we burn a little and laugh about?"
y/n's smile widened. "sounds perfect. but only if you promise to wear that goofy grin the whole time."
oscar chuckled, pulling her into another kiss. "challenge accepted."
the rest of the day was a testament to the fact that grand gestures weren't everything. sure, the fairy lights and the dress were a beautiful apology, but the real magic was in the shared laughter, the playful teasing, and the simple act of being together. as they sat on the couch, their stomachs full of slightly burnt pancakes and hearts full of love, oscar knew that even forgotten anniversaries couldn't erase the strength of their connection. he looked at y/n, the fairy lights reflecting in her eyes, and whispered, "happy anniversary, y/n."
"happy anniversary, oscar," she replied, leaning her head on his shoulder. "and thank you for reminding me why I love you so much."
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!
leave a like! leave a note!
🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️
104 notes · View notes
girlypsyop · 9 months
Text
Man. Leaving a toxic relationship is just an exercise in learning how to live in your own head again.
#lot going on in here folks :'(#but also :')#for a few weeks i couldnt be alone couldnt be in silence couldnt just. think.#im loving myself again. im laughing and connecting and god im so excited for what comes next#june 19th lana..... you are my soulmate my rock my queen you are everything to me#bc june 19th lana had the strength to leave#june 19th lana swept me off my fucking feet and she fought and yelled and stayed up for 4 days straight#so that 4 days later i could be free again <3#i will work so fucking hard for june 19th lana.... i never want her to have any regrets... any whatifs....#im going to give june 19th lana the life she hopes shes fighting for#those four days were torture... moving... yelling... crying crying crying... more moving... driving...#she did that... for me....#literally she talked to me often... she would sit amongst the boxes and fear and heartbreak and shed talk to her future self#which ig is me <3 and shed tell me how she loved me and how i better not screw this up and she begged me to love her again#god i love her again. i love that mess of a girl. beautiful and strong and terrible! and she got out despite the torture.#june 19th lana. also june 20th 21st and 22nd lana. i hear you. you will have such a beautiful wonderful life i swear#one you will never ever second guess#he fucking killed us! he killed you! the connection the devotion the love it masked the insidious truth that you had to die for that shit#the life he could give you...its pathetic compared to what im gonna give you.#and unlike every promise he ever made... i never go back on my word :)#ok bye
12 notes · View notes
septembersghost · 1 year
Text
looking through my photos and i have this terribly low quality shot of my tv
Tumblr media
because i had paused it there and then realized how the lyric was captured with the hopeful look on her face, even her eyes cast upwards. maybe this time, i'll be lucky...i watched this 8 years after it originally aired but it feels like they wrote this scene for me.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
this is like her entire character, translated into one scene, into song (reshaping a song from another story for her). twisting her purse in her hands, anxious and wounded and vulnerable, angry in a way she can't name, fearful in a way she can't stop, breaking down into tears and then resolutely still standing, trying to believe in a center of hope. trying over and over again. maybe this time. not a loser anymore, like the last time and the time before. everybody loves a winner, so nobody loved me. lady peaceful, lady happy, that's who i long to be...it’s self-delusion, that desperate, reckless hope. she is always on the crumbling edge of despair. she is always trying to convince herself, and everyone, that it's all going to be good, if she just tries hard enough, just keeps enough control, just does it right. we know she's doomed already, she's a ghost before the story even starts, but then that vivacity tries to trick us any way. she's too much a force of her world to leave it, isn't she? (and she is. even when she's gone in her potential for light, her dark shade remains there). it's just one of the most perfectly crafted scenes for every reason (plus the mr. sandman scene that is the pulse of everything earlier in the episode). all the odds are in my favor, something's bound to begin. it's gotta happen, happen sometime. maybe this time...maybe this time, i'll win. bring me a dream, make him the sweetest that i've ever seen. stars fading, but i linger on, dear. maybe if you believe hard enough, you can make it real. the dream is what folds all around you in the end.
5 notes · View notes
daosies · 3 months
Text
how the universe loves
sigewinne has noticed that wriothesley is in love. irrevocably so.
Tumblr media
wriothesley ♡ gn!reader
warnings: lovesick wriothesley, kinda awkward wriothesley, sickly sweet pining
notes: another day another lovesick-ification of a big buff man
Tumblr media
wriothesley is hopeless.
he stumbles over his own two feet, his words coming out in a slurred, jumbled mess as he stares at you with wide, pale blue eyes. as if he's afraid he'll miss the sight of you, as if sight alone is not enough.
"so, [name],"—he nearly trips over a slab of cobble—"how are you liking the underworld?"
"i've been here before, duke," you say with an amused expression. "but it's nice. you have a pretty good system here!"
when it comes to you, the duke has a terrible habit of making an utter fool of himself—it's in the way he leans awkwardly against a nearby pole, trying to act cool while the tips of his ears turn red. so painfully red.
"right." wriothesley nods, his voice coming out strained as he watches your gaze drift off into the scenery, soaking in the sights that are now so familiar to him.
as you glance around, wriothesley follows your gaze, taking the time to evaluate the parts of the fortress that you behold, measuring its acceptability based on whether or not it brings a pleasant expression to your face. in the end, however, his icy eyes (that melt only for you) return to you.
he stares at them like, sigewinne struggles to find the word, her hand coming to scratch at her head as she racks her brain for ideas. human emotions are so difficult—they make complex structures out of simple foundations, because although sigewinne knows that what she is seeing is love, that word alone doesn't seem like enough.
when wriothesley looks at you, which he often does, it feels as though he cannot see anything else. when wriothesley looks at you, it feels as if he's looking at a dream, his expression becoming mellow, the scars from his being, etched into his soul, suddenly washing away with the colossal presence of your existence.
you erase parts of him—parts of him that carry the worst of his past, parts of him that have witnessed dread and misery and anguish—and you reinvent him into something airy, something dreamy. something lovely, sigewinne muses. it's like he's reincarnated every time you look at him, every time you do so much as perceive him.
sigewinne thinks that the duke's eyes are wed to you. she's noticed how, whenever you glance at him, his breathing stops. he holds his breath as if he's trying to trap the air you exist in, forcing it to permeate into his lungs, melding it into the tissues of his being.
when you look away, he sighs. the air escapes him, and he's desperate to grasp it, to seize your existence and make it a part of him.
"i really liked the entrance to the fortress," you say, not realizing the weight of your words, "the area where we got to see the water was beautiful."
wriothesley chuckles. "is that so? perhaps i'll recreate it somewhere here then." he gestures around the fortress, feigning ignorance to the machinery and the people who are unaware of his newfound plans.
"but it feels safe right now," you add, smiling, "maybe it's better not to see the water."
"of course," he replies, ignoring the grandiose ideas he had. he was going to rebuild the entire place, starting with the outer walls before transforming the entire fortress into an underwater observatory.
would you find it even prettier then?
"miss sigewinne,"—you give her a gentle smile—"how have you been?"
she jumps up, returning your smile with a giant grin. "great! thank you for all of the tea you've been sending us, mx [name]!"
"yes, that's right." wriothesley nods approvingly. "the tea is wonderful."
"his grace loves every type of tea you send, mx [name]! he always saves them for really, really good days!"
"oh?" you echo. "if that's the case, i'll be sure to send more!"
wriothesley coughs into his fist, and sigewinne huffs proudly to herself.
the duke should thank me later! she thinks.
Tumblr media
wriothesley is terribly, terribly in love.
"your grace," sigewinne calls, her eyebrows furrowed with concern. "you can't keep skipping out on your meals and drinking caffeine! it's not good for you health! please, take the day off!"
"sorry, miss sigewinne," wriothesley replies, his voice groggy with fatigue and his hand coming up to massage his temples. "i'll rest right after i finish these papers."
the nurse frowns. "you said that last time."
"this will be the last time," wriothesley assures. "please don't worry too much, miss sigewinne."
you make that difficult to do, she thinks exasperatedly. wriothesley fiddles with his pen, his frame hunched over his wooden desk as he forces his head towards the documents.
when sigewinne traces his gaze, however, she notices that he's not looking at the papers at all. he's staring, fervently so, at the entrance to his office. he's waiting for something, sigewinne deduces, but what?
it finally clicks.
mx [name] has been out on commissions! sigewinne realizes, her eyes darting back and forth between the door and the duke. his grace must be waiting for their letter!
sigewinne clears her throat. "have you heard from mx [name], your grace?"
at the mere mention of your name, wriothesley's head shoots up. there's an indescribable look in his eyes, as if he had just struck a star and resonated it deep within himself.
he opens his mouth to speak, but the star sinks deep into his throat. his words die.
still, sigewinne presses on. "i heard they're in liyue right now. perhaps that's why there are no letters coming in?"
the duke crumbles into himself, as if all the stress in his body were escaping in between his loosened muscles and eased brow, its prominent furrow now replaced with a relieved expression.
"is that so?" he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "that's good, really good."
"i'm glad to hear that, your grace," sigewinne states. "now, off to get some rest!"
he sighs, but a smile still creeps onto his face. "alright, miss sigewinne. thank you."
when a letter for wriothesley arrives a couple days later, sigewinne knows. she knows, because the duke's mood has become significantly better. his complexion is brighter, his eye circles beginning to fade as he works flawlessly away at the various documents lining his desk.
if she squints, she can see a certain vibrant, messy paper resting permanently by his hand. it remains there as if it were stuck in time, as if it were glued to the side of his wrist.
there's a stamp on it.
it's a stamp from liyue.
sigewinne hums a sweet tune to herself before strolling leisurely out of the duke's office.
Tumblr media
wriothesley is smitten.
sometimes, sigewinne feels embarrassed for him. because when your name is mentioned—or at least, when something that sounds like your name is said—the duke's entire body jolts up. he glances around with those wide, wedded eyes of his, and he slouches once he realizes it's a mere illusion.
the cycle repeats.
whenever the duke knows you're coming, he spends two minutes longer staring at himself in the mirror. sigewinne knows this because any sticker placed on him gets removed in an instant. this includes any stickers on his gauntlets—which the duke usually lets slide until it truly becomes a hindrance.
and he brews tea. lots of tea. and then he puts an odd number of sugar cubes into the cups, even though he usually only takes two. and then he sets the cups down on either side of his office table, his hands fidgeting with the handle as if he's waiting for you to barge through the door and take the cup of tea on the other side of his desk.
it's as if his entire existence revolves around you. as if he orbits you, following the same trajectory and path and never leaving your side, an irreversible distance between you two. but the distance is so small, it feels as if he can leave orbit any minute.
and catch your presence, once and for all.
"your grace," sigewinne says, standing by the doorway. "mx [name] is coming in an hour."
wriothesley laces his fingers, his elbows resting on his desk as he stares intently at the cup of tea in front of him.
"oh. is that so?"
"yes. i think the tea your grace has prepared for them will have cooled by then."
"that is a good point, miss sigewinne. thank you for letting me know."
he pushes the tea to the side—which leaves sigewinne speechless—before returning to the various documents lining his desk. he refuses to drink in your absence.
the tea cools. and sure enough, an hour later, you barge through the grandiose, golden doors of his office.
"duke!" you exclaim, hauling a sack of goods from your travels. "what's up!"
he stands up immediately. wriothesley takes long, quick strides over to your side, his hand outstretched in order to take the large bag from you, his eyes filled to the brim with indescribable emotion.
if sigewinne had to describe it—the look in his eyes—she'd say that his irises swirl with a fervent warmth unbefitting of a duke. the glaciers of his eyes fragment, revealing bits and pieces of vulnerability, of adoration as he stares at you and soaks in your every word as if it were a wild song.
and his irises reflect your figure, your face, your smile. his pupils behold you, taking in everything and keeping nothing, as wriothesley clutches tightly onto the bag of your rewards, his attention fixated wholly on you.
his ears follow you across the mountains of liyue and the plains of mondstadt while his eyes follow the flutter of your lashes, the curl of your lips.
"the lantern rite was gorgeous," you say quickly, your words rising with excitement, "and the final night with the mingxiao lantern—that was incredible!"
"really?" wriothesley says, almost breathlessly.
"yeah, and not to mention the ludi harpastum of mondstadt..."
when wriothesley listens to you, sigewinne notices the way he leans in a little. the distance between his orbit and your existence becomes smaller and smaller, until only slips of candlelight separate the two of you, until the only thing that exists in this makeshift solar system is you and him.
sigewinne is a spectator. she witnesses, in full, the way wriothesley attunes himself to you. he trails after you, basking in the sound of your voice and the way it rises whenever you get excited. he follows you closely, narrowing the proximity, grasping at your atmosphere.
one of these days, he's going to change the trajectory of his life. he's going to make it so his orbit collides with yours, so the two of you will no longer be separated by space, by anything.
he's smitten—so, so smitten.
he stares at them like, sigewinne finally finds a word. like they're enchanted. like they're a dream.
smiling contentedly to herself, sigewinne slips through the grandiose doors of the duke's office, leaving the two planets alone. drifting aimlessly in the galaxy, crafting a solar system of their own.
wriothesley is in love.
Tumblr media
751 notes · View notes
targaryenluvs · 5 months
Note
Hi, how are you? Could you make a request for Anthony Bridgerton 🙈 please.
I was thinking something along the lines of Penelope and Colin. When Colin says he would never court Penelope. But in this case Anthony tells Benedict that he would never court reader. And Benedict tells him that he will be the one to woo her. Sad ending or happy ending. I leave it in your hands 🤗✨.
Have a good week ✨ thank you.
i love this, and benedict bridgerton <3
nothing better
Tumblr media
pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader, anthony bridgerton x fem!reader (platonic)
summary: benedict has loved you for so long, but he always assumed you’d want anthony and he wanted you. but when the opportunity presents itself to be with you he dives headfirst.
warnings: swearing, kisses??
a/n: hope you like itttt, it might be a little short but quality over quantity???: i love benedict ugh can’t wait for his season
the party was insufferable.
benedict wanted nothing more than to be at home, drawing, you specifically.
the day you learned of his talent you’d praised him every day for it. and you’d been pestering him for oh so long to draw your portrait but he always politely declined. believing a professional to be more accurate than himself but he honestly believed that he, nor any other, could incorporate all of your beauty in one sketch.
and he was scared of messing it up, and he also wondered what his brother would think.
anthony. smart, handsome, eligible, viscount anthony bridgerton.
the one you’d marry.
or so it seemed to everyone as the two of you danced hand in hand. everyone’s eyes were on the two of you as you practically glided across the floor. as the music slowed and the couples dispersed he found himself holding his breath as you came towards him.
“anthony is terrible to dance with, he keeps blaming me for stepping on his feet but he moves so slow at times, he’s always looking off into the distance.” you laughed as benedict smiled, “i promise you y/n, a dance with me will leave you more than well satisfied.” benedict teased as you gasped, “benedict bridgerton! the scandalous man you are.” as you laughed he couldn’t help but admire you. your hair was up with only two strands in the front, curled. a sweet tiara in the middle of your head, a gorgeous baby pink dress and and equally gorgeous owner.
“you look-”
“like a cake? a biscuit? a rose perhaps?” you joked.
“i was going to say breathtaking. you look, breathtaking, y/n. no one else here can compare.” he spoke in awe.
your eyes flickered to his, god he looked amazing. but he was probably only saying this to be nice right? his sisters friend, daphnes other half. nothing more, he grew up with you, saw you as a sister.
he wondered if you’d return the compliment, or thank him, or just smile and nod. god he said wanted more than a nod. you looked untouchable. and the way you looked at him, benedict was lost. not only in your eyes but in his head and heart. he sees you dance and talk to numerous respectable men every day. you smile and laugh, completely polite. but then you look at him, with those beautiful brown eyes and he looses all trains of thought. and as respectful as those other men are, he could never put himself in the same category as them.
because the thoughts that he didn’t loose, were truly inappropriate.
the heavy footsteps from behind you snapped the two of you out of the trance as anthony approached. “brother, lady y/n.” he smiled as you smiled back. “i’ll leave you two be.”
“are you alright brother?”
he didn’t mean to snap. the words just spilled out.
“are you going to court her or not?”
anthony’s brows furrowed as he was taken aback by his brothers direct manner, all sense of the usual playfulness was lost. “who? y/n? no of course not. i would never dream of courting y/n l/n. she’s like a sister to me.”
“then why do you dance with her so? take her out so often, promenade with her? for what? my god everyone thinks the two you are courting.” anthony released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
he’d only been having fun with a friend. it was so refreshing to be able to talk to someone who didn’t wonder what the viscount was up to, who he was with, when he was going to marry. y/n eased his tensions and she the best friend he’d never had, she made him feel like a young boy again, which anthony had all but forgotten the feeling of.
“benedict, it was not my intention this i promise you brother. i know how much you love and if i led you or anyone else to believe our relationship was anything besides familial love and companionship than i truly apologise. you need to let her know before it’s too late.”
benedict felt his heart lurch at the idea of finally being with you. and with anthony’s blessing and urging him along he was off to find you.
the air was cold, but anything was better than that stuffy ballroom inside. gods you couldn’t wait for the season to be over. it was only your first, same as the diamond of the season, also known as your best friend daphne bridgerton but all the cakes, gossip, drama and fake smiles? you’d had enough to last forever. the only problem with the season being over was that you’d most likely be travelling to your country estate. which meant that you’d be spending time with your extended family rather than the family besides your own that you wanted to be with.
the person you wanted to be with.
“y/n! there you are.” benedict shouted as he bent over, catching his breath. even slightly sweaty and disheveled benedict was a god in your eyes, no one inside could even come close.
“ben, come sit!” you patted the swing next to you as he gladly sat down, the air was a refreshing after the long night he’d had, and your smiling face was enough for his heart to race again.
“y/n, as much as i’d like to sit and swing with you i have to tell you something, it’s urgent.” he spoke softly. the moon was bright, the air cold and benedict had a soft glow of light on his right side. his voice could so easily lull you to sleep out here as it had done so many times before but his eyes were alert, so you smiled again and nodded, “continue.”
“y/n, i’ve known you for so long. and i’ve- i’ve never been able to tell you how i truly feel about you. i always thought anthony had your eye and”
“anthony?!” you screeched as benedict hushed you with a hand over your mouth. “sweetheart you can’t be so loud out here, wouldn’t want someone to come across us now would we?” he joked as his eyes crinkled at the edges, now there’s the benedict you knew. “ben, i’ve never had romantic feelings for anthony, hes always been a brother to me. besides i’ve had my eye on another bridgerton for a long time.”
“oh? and who could that be?” benedict was praying to every god he could conjure in his head. me. me. me. let it be me please.
“you.”
he couldn’t help himself as he kissed you, he’d waited far too long for it.
and it was so worth it.
everything he couldn’t even begin to express with words, he put into the kiss, your first of many. “i love you. i love you y/n l/n and i can only pray you love me a quarter as much. you are everything i’ve ever wanted, and i have you now. you were family before but now? youre officially a bridgerton, we should throw a parade.” benedict laughed as you smacked his arm, “finally! my plan to marry daphne has been thrown into motion!”
“excuse me?” daphne shouted as yourself and benedict leaned into eachother, laughing up a storm.
there was nothing that could compare to the man infront of you.
nothing better.
794 notes · View notes
retroellie · 3 months
Text
The Other Woman
Tumblr media
Summary: After seeing Lila kiss spencer in the pool, all reason leaves your body and creates a jealous mess inside your head. You can thing of only one way to dull the ache of jealousy.
A/N: This lowkey sucks but it's whatever :) I'm so unmotivated and my writers block is terrible omfg. I hope y'all enjoy though <3
Warnings: NSFW, cheating(ish), L*la, Mommy kink, face sitting, unprotected sex, unexperienced spencer, normal Criminal Minds stuff
Word count: 7.6K
Of course, you knew you were acting like a teenage girl, the petty silent treatment was straight of a high school romance. Reid was just trying to do his job, he was told to do something, and he did it. So, you shouldn't be angry. He was trying to prevent another victim; he was trying to protect Lila. Fucking Lila. If it were anyone else, then maybe you would just be able to forget it, but it wasn't someone else. It was her. It was hot blonde, breakout movie star Lila. Her and her perfect body, pretty face, long legs, her beautiful smile, and her money. She was everything a man could want, so what stopped Reid from wanting it too?
It made you uncomfortable in the first place, him being the one to stay with her. You asked Gideon if maybe Elle could do it or even Hotch, but he said since Lila and Spencer were somewhat friends, it would make her more comfortable. But what about you? What about your comfort? You decided to leave your pettiness out of your work, keep your jealousy to yourself, and catch the stalker so you could get out of here, go back to your stupid life with Reid.
You were already feeling sick enough about the entire thing, she could steal Reid from you in a heartbeat and all you could do was let her... But seeing him in the pool with her, her only in a bathing suit and him soaking wet. It played with your heartstrings, wondering everything that could've happened. Spencer couldn't look you in the eye, even after you asked him if he was okay. He just let out a small hum, looking down at his gun while he tried to dry it off. You knew something had happened; did you even want to know? You asked yourself.
You had no choice since Morgan shoved the camera in your face. The pictures of Lila and Spencer, her lips on his. 'Of course, she looked pretty when she hungrily made out with someone' you thought, rolling your eyes mentally. Spencer just watched your face, as it contorted into an unknown expression to him. He was a profiler, yet he could never read you...you were completely foreign to him. It intrigued him when he first met you, it frustrated him. Spencer Reid was a genius, he knew everything. So, him not knowing your brain frustrated him. That's exactly why he fell in love with you, he had to work to understand you and he ended up falling in love with you trying to figure you out.
Spencer opened his mouth to explain himself, but you dismissed it by explaining how you didn't think that the man who took the photos was the unsub. You explain how "he was too cocky and too visible; the unsub would have been more careful than the trespassing paparazzi." You did have a new lead however and you didn't hesitate before you ran off to go follow it. You just wanted to get away from Spencer, you needed to be away from him. You should have heard him out, you would've heard him out but as said before... It was Lila. Girls like her always got what they wanted; they didn't even have to fight for it either. So, you knew how this went, Spencer would leave you for her and you would have to work with him for the rest of your life knowing... you allowed him to be stolen.
You eventually caught the unsub, well Spencer did. It was one of Lila's friends, Maggie. She was desperately in love with Lila but Lila wasn't in love with her back, she killed her victims to show her love for Lila. You somehow understood how she felt as fucked up as it sounds. You understand why people kill for the people they love, how they would do anything just for the person they love. You could see yourself doing that for Spencer, it scared you of what you were willing to do for him. After Maggie had been caught, Hotch told the team to meet back at the local police departments to make their reports. However, you headed back to the hotel, stating that you had fallen sick to Hotch. Obviously hotch knew, he wasn't stupid and he didn't need to be a profiler to know what you were feeling. You were hurt.
So here you are now, in your hotel room... alone. You were writing your reports for other cases, completely neglecting the Lila case. In the state you were in, you couldn't even think of a blonde woman without the heartbreak sensation creeping up again. You hoped to do other cases, the most gruesome cases... The cases with blood and guts would help make that feeling go away or at least dissolve the lump in your throat. You felt like you were 16 again, watching as your prom date went into the bathroom with the popular girl. Your stomach sank as you saw him holding onto her hand, leading him into the biggest stall... all you could do was watch. You suddenly felt every stitch of your dress, all your organs working together, every light molecule on your skin. It was hell.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by a knock at your door, your heart dropping as it did. You would think of years of profiling psychopaths, you would be able to handle a knock at the door. For some reason that knock was the scariest thing to you. You sighed softly, putting the paperwork that was sprawled out on the hotel bed to the side and throwing yourself over the side of the bed. You walked to the door, the cold air of the hotel room making you shiver. Your hand touched the cold doorknob, pulling the door open and seeing a figure. Your eyes adjusted and soon you were met with his brown ones.
"Hi..." He said, giving you a soft smile.
"Hi." You said coldly.
It was an awkward encounter for sure, something that happens often but it's more comfortable than this. As of now, all you could think about was Spencer's face smashed up against hers. You were now hyper-aware of everything around you, feeling as though you could hear the colors making up the room. Spencer just stood there, hands in his pockets and giving you that strange grin.
"You weren't at the police station... Hotch told me you were feeling sick." He started, trying to pick up a conversation but for the first time since you met Spencer Reid... he was at a loss for words.
You nodded, confirming Hotch's statement. You could tell what he wanted to ask, so desperately. You were a profiler, you could tell by his fidgeting hand, his eye twitch, the way he couldn't make eye contact with you for more than 4 seconds... He was holding himself back. Spencer knew he did wrong, very wrong. Not only with you but professionally. You're not supposed to kiss a civilian you are told to keep watch on as a federal agent. It's inappropriate and wrong... but Reid could care less about that fact, the kiss meant nothing to him. He was more worried about you. You hadn't talked to him since you saw him in the pool with Lila, you didn't tell him you were going back to the hotel, you didn't even kiss him goodbye before you left Lilas. You bit your lip softly, playing with the flesh as you looked down at your feet.
"Uh yeah..." You started, looking back up at him. "Must have eaten something bad or something..."
Spencer didn't believe you, not for a second. He was never good with social cues but at this moment, he could read the situation better than anyone. However, Spencer has never been in a relationship before... you were his first everything. He'd never been exposed to the petty drama that comes with having a girlfriend, so he wasn't too sure how to go with this conversation. He knew he did wrong, but how does he go about communicating that with you? He doesn't want to make it seem like you're overreacting or you are stupid for being mad... damn, maybe he's overthinking it now. If Spencer Reid is good at anything though, it's statistics.
"You know..." He starts, about to go on one of his Reid rants. "Statistically, 58% of the time people don't actually have anything wrong with their stomach. Mostly it's more psychological than it is physical. Mostly caused by anxiety, guilt or anger."
You were used to these Reid rants at this point. Being with Spencer Reid for 2 years and knowing him for even longer, you have a lot of useless information in your brain that he has nonconsensually given you. You let that information sink into the part of your brain that you will most likely not return to, not even going to attempt to comprehend what number he had just given you. Your face automatically contorted itself into a look that said "Please shut up, leave me alone, and never perceive me again.".
"You think I'm lying?" You ask, not sure whether you're actually offended or it's because you can't get the picture of her kissing him out of your head.
It wasn't Spencer's intention to make you upset, no... that's not why he came here. He just knew that it was deeper than a stomach ache, he knew that your mind was going wild with possibilities and him knowing you, he knew you wouldn't say anything about it. Spencer knew why you did the work you did, he knew you couldn't solve your own problems so you decided to solve others. That's why Spencer didn't wait for you to come to him because he knew you never would. Spencer shook his head eagerly.
"No! no... of course not." He blurted out, looking everywhere but your eyes. "I'm just saying that i think the stomach ache your feeling isn't really a stomach ache... maybe it has something to do with the thing that happened with me and Lila."
The sound of her name sliding off his tongue sounded so frictionless... so effortless. It made you wonder if your name sounded the same, suddenly you forgot what your name sounded like coming out of his mouth. You shook that feeling off real quick, hoping if you pushed it down far enough it would simply go away. You weren't stupid though, you knew what pushing things down would do. It would turn you into something not human, or maybe something that is between a human and something else... it would turn you into Maggie or maybe even the hundreds of people you catch a year. It's funny how you can figure out another person's shit so fast, yet you are still wondering what your shit even is.
You sigh softly, rolling your eyes as you step away from the door and making your way to the small hotel "kitchen". The only thing the kitchen was good for was making coffee or tea, something that you have been living on for the past couple of years. You've found yourself purposely making it bad, the BAU will ruin you like that. You poured yourself some coffee, hearing Spencer walk in and shut the door behind him.
"Or maybe I just have a stomach ache." You say softly, putting the coffee pot back and then pouring pounds of sugar into your coffee. "Besides, it doesn't really matter anymore. The unsub was caught, Lilas safe... we did our job."
Spencer bites his lip nervously, watching you bring your coffee up to your lips and take a swig. As said before, Spencer isn't good with relationships or girls... or really anything that isn't statistics and books, so he isn't sure how to tell you that he is worried about you. He likes you, he'd probably go as far as to say he loves you and he doesn't want this to end. He knows that this will not end well, that your bottled-up emotions will be the end of your relationship. Spencer notices all the case reports scattered over your bed, seeing how you haven't even started on the most recent one... lilas.
"I read in one of my books about human relationships that most relationships end due to no com..." He starts, being interrupted by your tired, jealous self.
"Please, Spencer! enough with the statistics..." You spit, almost yelling... something you've never done to read. You turn to face him, coffee cup still in your hand, burning your skin. "Just spit out what you're trying to say to me."
Spencer gulps slightly, seeing how angry you've already become and you've only bottled this much hatred for less than a day. He knows you don't mean to yell, he knows it. He knows this job does this to a person, makes them angry... messes with their head until they are only a shell of themselves. Spencer adjusts himself, not sure what he is going to say but his plan is just to speak... hoping that the words will form as he does so. He licks his lips, taking in a breath and facing you finally.
"What happened between me and Lila..." He paused, gathering all the courage and breath he had left in this moment. "It meant nothing. I mean yeah we kissed, I mean she kissed me. I told her I had a girlfriend, multiple times. She still did it and I was shocked that I let it happen... but I felt nothing. I swear. And I know you don't want to talk about it, it's uncomfortable and it hurts you too, but I want to talk about it because it hurts me when I think it hurts you. This job can take whatever it wants from me... but I can't live with myself if I let it take you from me." He rambles out.
His breath gets heavy, all the oxygen from his lungs being taken from that single rant. He could've gone on, he wanted to go on but the look on your face made him stop. You looked even more hurt... or did you look relieved... Spencer couldn't tell, you were too hard to read for him. You couldn't explain the feeling either, it was a mix of everything. It was a mix of guilt and content... but most importantly, lust. The ramble had your face heating up and your underwear dampening. You shouldn't be feeling this way at this moment, no... not when your poor boyfriend just poured his heart out to you. but the way his voice was whiny... the way he begged for you, the way his face was now flush... How could you not?
You set your coffee cup down, making your way over to his tall figure. His breathing stopped almost as he could feel your presence getting closer to him, he'd never felt this uneasy in your presence but in this moment, he was afraid of what your next move would be. You were now face to face with Spencer, looking up at him with doe eyes as you watched him nervously fidget with his bottom lip. This feeling you felt was not new, it was something you felt for Spencer when he did pretty much anything. The deep fire that sparked within your stomach was always there when around him, something you were able to control and others... Well, you had to strip him down right then. However, you had never felt this feeling be so potent, so overwhelmingly rich.
"You really mean it?" You said simply, wanting nothing more than to hear him say he wanted you more than you wanted him. Spencer cleared his throat, shifting on his feet as he nervously stood in front of you.
"Yes...I really mean it Y/N." He admitted, his voice laced with desperation. He just wanted his girlfriend, that's all he's ever wanted.
You grin softly, eyes slightly watering as you hear his confession. You knew that Spencer would do anything for you, anything. But hearing it... hearing it gave you a sudden power rush. It made your hands shake, complete dominance running through your body. Your grin caused Spencer to relax, knowing that maybe there was a chance you could forgive him. Your hand snaked its way up to his tie, playing with it. Spencer watched this action, and the sudden realization of how you were feeling crept up on his mind. You weren't the one for punishments, you believed sex should be something that is for praising the other... not punishing. However, the mere thought of you punishing Spencer made both of you weak in the knees.
"i want to believe you, Spence..." You spoke your voice slightly over a whisper. Your hands are still rubbing the soft fabric of his tie between your fingers, flicking your eyes back up to his. "But I can't when you're using that mouth to make excuses...."
You smile up at him innocently, as if you weren't teasing him. Spencer gulped down a whimper, your voice almost having him bust in his pants all ready. You yanked him down to your level by his tie, tugging on it roughly as you forced him to make eye contact with you. You took your free hand to push his hair back from his face, watching his tie rub roughly against his neck. You took your hand, leaving light touches all over his face... tracing every bump, every mole, every scar across his face. You thought he was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, but so did Lila.
"What can I do..." He started, pausing his sentence as he basked in your soft touches. "to uh... to make you believe me?"
You let out a chuckle, your finger pulling down his lip and then letting it bounce back up. You bit your lip, trying to keep your dominant persona up, but something about the way he was so desperate to please you... the fire burned hotter deep within you.
"I can't tell you... guess you just have to know." You stated. You wanted to keep him on edge, make him more desperate than he already was.
Spencer moaned softly as your grip on his tie tightened, his air getting restricted now but he felt... oddly good. You two were new to having sex at this point, Spencer had just given his virginity to you not even 2 months ago. Yet you both have had sex so often that you both knew each other's bodies inside and out already. He didn't know what he liked or what he wanted, all he knew was he wanted you and only you for the rest of his existence. Spencer couldn't help himself anymore, he smashed his lips into yours. The kiss was full of desperation, his hands making their way into your hair, sometimes pulling but mostly he used it to keep you in place.
It was messy and very sloppy, it was like a normal makeout session for you. Spencer couldn't help himself but to be messy with you, he wanted so much of you that it made him claw at your skin. You didn't mind it, you let him explore your mouth with only his tongue because you fed on his desperation. Your hands made it up to his cheeks, pressing his mouth even closer to you. Your teeth clashed with his, tongues fighting with each other, squirming against each other. You both could have stayed like this for hours, probably coming undone just by kissing but you wanted more.
"Spencer..." You moaned out, pulling him away from you slightly. You looked up at him, the desperation in his eyes to keep going. His lips were kiss-bitten, his cheeks red and his eyes wet. He whimpered at the loss of your lips, breathing heavily as you examined his face. "Take off your clothes and get on the bed."
Your voice was demanding, causing Spencer to jump to what you wanted him to do. You watched him eagerly take off his shirt, his tie getting stuck and frustrating him. Then he worked his way down to his pants, taking off his shoes while he was at it. He left his boxers on, knowing that you would soon take them off anyway. He sat on the bed, waiting patiently for you, feeling your eyes bore into his skin. Spencer had a strange build, skinny and lanky but his muscles were defined. You would basically drool every time you saw it, the first time you ever saw him naked you swear you came just by the view.
"Good boy..." You said, walking over to him as he sat on the edge of the bed. You set yourself on his lap, straddling him as you watched his face turn redder than it already had been. "I have been so good to you haven't I Spencer?"
You sat down on his lap, feeling his cock rock hard against the inside of your thigh. You moved his hair from his face, his hair still reeked of chlorine which created another wave of deep jealousy. Spencer nodded rapidly, his words getting stuck into his throat as you watched his face for an answer. You grinned softly, nodding with him as he let out a little hum.
"Yeah..." You started, feeling his body shake with anticipation. You leaned down, leaving soft kisses along his cheeks as you ground down softly on him. "I let you cum when you want to, let you cum inside me, I suck your dick whenever and wherever I put up with your begging and call you a good boy..."
Spencer moans softly at your words, his hands making their way to your hips as he tries to grind you down harder on his cock. His senses are already being clouded with complete lust, his need to cum is at a peak already. You chuckle down at him, his pathetic moans already filling the room and you have not even started. You trail your kisses to his mouth, forcing the kiss to be softer this time but his lips want more.
"I mean even when I should have slammed the door in your face..." You snap your hips down harshly, watching him moan out loudly. "Here I am, still calling you a good boy."
Although Spencer's moans create a softness inside of you, wanting nothing more than to let him come undone as you praise him, the deep jealousy that has been lingering in the room is creating something inhumane inside of you. You wanted to make him cry, wanted to crave insults into his skin, wanted to push him to the brink, and then take it all away from him. It's how he made you feel, seeing him in that pool with someone like Lila. even if he didn't even mean to. You knew Spencer didn't want Lila to kiss him, part of you knew that and you wanted to slap her for even putting Spencer into that position. However, you could use this anger and jealousy in a good way, a punishment that would leave Spencer feeling like he went to heaven and back.
"y/n... god..." Spencer moaned out, grinding his hips up to meet yours. You grinned softly, moving your hand from his cheek down to his neck.
His neck was already slightly red from his tie, the soft bruise already peeking through. It looked down pretty on his skin, he looked so pretty broken down. You wrapped your hand softly around his neck, setting one last kiss to his lips before you slammed him down on the bed. He gasped softly, breathing heavily as your actions scared him. He was flat on his back now, looking up at you as you straddled his hips. You could feel him throb against your thigh, his cock wanting to free him.
You took the hand wrapped around his neck, trailing it down his chest, down his belly, down his happy trail, pulling his underwear down so only his cock could spring free. You tsked softly, looking down at him as he squirmed. His cock was flush red, dripping precum as it screamed to be touched. It never failed to amaze you just how flustered and hard you could make Dr. Spencer Reid, the genius, the boy wonder.... pretty boy. You weren't exactly what you would assume his type would be, not that you weren't attractive but completely different from Spencer Reid.
You two were like night and day, favoring different things yet being made for each other. Sometimes you would get insecure about it, especially when you two were very public about your relationship. How could someone who knew exactly what they were doing be with someone like you? You thought, sometimes it kept you up at night. How someone like Spencer could be with you, how he could look at you and see only beauty. It freaked you out to say the least and maybe that's why the two of you were in the position in the first place, your insecurities getting the best of you.
"So needy already... I've barely touched you." You tease, biting your lip at the sight of him.
You set your hand on his cock, leaving feather-light touches to it as he squirmed more. You gripped it lazily, moving your hand up and down his cock. Your free hand began unbuttoning your dress pants, zipping them down, and yanking them off your body. You teased Spencer about being the eager one, but you couldn't handle much more of him not being inside you. Spencer threw his head back as you continued to stroke his cock at a slow pace, his eyes shut tight as he was already on the verge of cumming.
"That feel good honey?" You asked him, sure that he wasn't going to be able to answer you. "feels so warm... so wet..." You teased, drawing out your words to push his buttons even more.
You leaned down, hand still pumping his cock as you started leaving soft kissing along his neck, something you knew he loved dearly. Your hand movements were sloppy now, encouraging him to grind his hips into your hand. His thrusts were sporadic, no real rhythm as he was so clouded with the thought of cumming in your hand.
"Feel so... feel so good..." He moaned out, his mind not allowing him to think of a coherent sentence.
That was all you needed to know that he was close, that in the next seconds, he was going to make a mess out of your hand. You pumped him a few more times, watching as his body shook slightly. But then as his orgasm almost washed over him... you pulled your hand away. He whimpered softly, eyes filling with tears as his overstimulated and teased cock throbbed. Spencer had never felt this pathetic, just like you said, you let Spencer cum whenever he wanted to. So you helping him to the edge just to take it away in mere seconds, made this boy into a whiny mess. He would even go as far as to say you spoiled him, always allowing him to make his messes anywhere and everywhere.
"What... why.." He stuttered, not sure what to say but he felt he had been robbed of a mindblowing orgasm. His pouting made you smile, seeing how worked up and ashamed he had become.
"Awe, I'm so sorry baby..." You teased, kissing his neck softly as he desperately tried to feel for your lips with his. "But only good boys get to cum..."
Spencer bucked his hips up into nothing, his stolen orgasm making his stomach ache. Spencer would do anything, anything... just for you to let him cum. He would beg and plead for it, he would murder for it. The mere thought of Spencer willing to do anything just for your hand, sent your body into overdrive, the power rush taking over your own senses until it felt you could only be satisfied by seeing Spencer cry. Spencer huffed and puffed roughly as you continued to lay your kisses on his neck, knowing how weak it made him. His breathing was irregular and it felt as though with every struggling breath, his air was being stolen from him.
"Fuck... please..." He whimpered out, his hands reaching up to your hips once more trying to grind your body against the aching cock. "I'm sorry okay... fuck... I'm so sorry, I'll do anything... I'll be such a good boy for you, just please... fuck please Mommy!"
The word stumped you and took you completely off guard. Spencer was very new to sex and you were new to sex with him, but Mommy?!? You would've never guessed Spencer Reid would have a mommy kink, you should've known simply because it was clear. Spencer Reid has mommy issues, so seeing you as dominant during sex was basically a given, you're a profiler for god sake. You stopped your soft kisses on his neck, bringing your head up to see his horrified reaction to his words.
He was taken aback as well, those words feeling so wrong coming out of his mouth but yet so arousing to him. He always felt the need to hold back the word when you guys had sex, out of fear and him being ashamed. He knew he was safe with you, but something about a grown man calling his lover mommy felt inappropriate to him. It might be his denial or him being sexually insecure, but it just felt weird to him so the only word on his tongue at that moment was "sorry". little did he know though, the word slipping from his mouth did wonders on you. Your face heated up, your cunt wetter than ever, and your urge to cum at a peak.
"I'm so sorry... that was really weird, I'm so..." He started but was rudely interrupted by a very annoyed you.
"Spencer... it's fine, you worry too much." You giggled, trying to reassure him that you were more than okay with his surprising kink. You leaned down once more, pecking his lips with yours to hopefully put him at ease. He eagerly kissed you back, once again pulling you into a sloppy kiss. "How about you show Mommy what you can do with that mouth huh?" You said in between kisses.
Spencer let out a shaky breath, the possibility of how this night would end filling his brain. The shame he felt now was turning into something else, something enjoyable as you teased him about it. He nodded his head, agreeing to whatever you wanted him to do. You smirked, pulling your panties to the side and climbing up his body. Spencer wasn't sure what you were doing, never having been in this position before but his confusion was taken over by pure hunger when being face to face with your cunt.
"If it gets too much or you want to stop, tell me, okay honey?" You stated, looking down at him, his face already slick with your juices. He nodded, looking up at you with eyes that begged you to sit on his face.
You nodded back, getting yourself comfortable before lowering yourself down onto Spencer's face. He knew what to do almost immediately, licking your clit and nuzzling his nose straight into your cunt. Like everything Spencer when it came to sex, it was sloppy and eager. There was no real pace, just Spencer going crazy on your cunt. You couldn't help but rock your hips back and forth slightly, completely forgetting how good Spencer's tongue felt.
Spencer eating you out was no new thing, it happened quite often. He preferred when you two would use your tongues and fingers to pleasure each other. It felt more intimate to him and if he was being completely honest, he felt he was better with them than he was with his dick. He felt he had more control over you when he used his tongue, not to mention when you would touch him he would quite literally forget everything especially how to move his body. So eating you out made him feel more in control and in a career where he was always fighting for control, it was a nice change. Although this position you were in now, sitting on his face, was foreign to him, but he liked it.
You were starting to feel that coil inside you tighten, the sign that you were about to cum all over his face. You gripped the sheets, now moving your hips roughly to the movements of his tongue. Spencer had started sucking softly on your clit before teasing your opening with his tongue, he couldn't pick which he wanted to do so he tried to do both. For a minute there Spencer forgot he even had hands, his mind only on lapping at your cunt and tasting your juices flowing down his tongue.
"Spencer... fuck..." You moaned out, throwing your head back as you tried your best to stay upright. "remember your hands..." You directed him.
Spencer mentally scolded himself for that, knowing that in the past you scolded him for not using his hands. Spencer couldn't help it though, he wanted to taste all of you and his hands were the last thing he was worried about. Spencer brought one of his hands up to meet your cunt, digging his fingers into you. The feeling of his fingers exploring inside you had you grabbing at his hair, holding his face in place as you bucked your hips onto his fingers. Your movements only egged Spencer on, his fingers curling up to feel for your g-stop and his mouth latching onto your clit.
You were now the one who was a whimpering mess, curses fell from your lips and your hips forced themselves down onto Spencer. You were close, feeling that the coil became more tight as your back arched. Your thighs began to shake, your vision blurry as Spencer finally found your g-spot. It only took him only 3 curls of his fingers before that coil snapped.
"FUCK!" You screamed out, not surprised if the hotel heard you.
Spencer licked and pumped you through your orgasm, something you taught him how to do. You can remember the first time he had ever eaten you out, as soon as your cunt oozed out your juices... Spencer got scared that he had done something wrong, completely stopping his movements and cutting your orgasm short. You taught him that it was a good sign and what he should do while it was happening. You were proud to say that you taught Spencer right, you were the one who taught him how to please a woman... Can Lila say the same?
You hunched over on top of Spencer, shaking slightly as you recovered from your orgasm. Spencer slid his fingers out of you, placing them in his mouth as he licked them clean. You watched as he did, the sight alone creating a new wave of horniness over your body. He wanted every little speck of you, wanting to taste everything you had and he would gladly enjoy it. You shifted yourself down Spencer's body, once again straddling his hips.
"Was I a good mommy?" He asked innocently, his voice almost a whimper. He looked innocent as ever, even with his face soaked with your cum, he just looked so heavenly. You placed your hand on his cheek, wiping off the mess you had created.
"So good my love..." You whispered, watching his face turn a bright red once more. The words "my love" echoing in his ears, making his cock throb more. "How about mommy take care of you now huh?"
Your words rushed straight to Spencer's cock, forcing himself not to cum just from your words. Spencer nodded, breathing heavily as you pecked his lips with yours. You could taste your own cum on his lips along with spencers cherry chapstick that he always seems to be wearing. You let Spencer explore your mouth once more, taking what he needed from you as you once again wrapped your hand around his cock and lined it up with yourself. Spencer bucked up to meet your hips, being the greedy little bastard he was and wanting to thrust himself into you. You chuckled at his neediness but gave into his wishes, slowly setting yourself down onto him.
"Fuc..." Spencer whined out, throwing his head back in bliss.
You didn't know what happened at first, thinking that maybe Spencer was just that excited to be inside you once again. Then you felt it, his hot cum coating your walls already. You hadn't even put him all inside you and he had already come. Spencer's face contorted into pure pleasure, nails digging into your hips as he drenched your insides with cum. He was too in the clouds to realize what he had just done, it hit him too suddenly and way too hard for him to think. but eventually, he came down and sudden embarrassment ran cold through his body.
"Shit... I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just h..." He started, rapidly trying to apologize for cumming so early even if it wasn't under his control. His apologies got cut off by you fully sitting down on his cock, his cock now nestled deep inside of you.
Spencer once again through his head back, his words fading into whimpers and whining. You smiled at his reaction, your cunt feeling his dick get hard once more. Spencer never knew that he would be in this position tonight or really ever. He never knew in a hundred years he would be deep inside his coworker, a babbling mess underneath her, and basically prematurely ejaculate inside of her. but somehow this is where Spencer feels he wants to be, maybe not the cumming so soon part but being underneath you.
"No need to apologize Spence..." You moan out, shifting your hips slightly. You bring your hands up to your shirt and slowly work your way down the buttons. "You deserved to cum in mommy, you did so good with your mouth."
You yank your shirt off, revealing your black lacy bra Spencer had bought you days before. Spencer's breath hitched, his memory of buying that in the first place coming back. He was at the store, buying whatever he needed for that night when he accidentally stumbled into the women's undergarments section. He attempted to cover his eyes, but for some reason, they kept landing on the black lacy bra you had right now. It was embarrassing for him to be buying it, going to the checkout, and praying the cashier didn't even think twice about it, it didn't help that the image of you in it had him rock hard.
You bucked your hips softly, feeling every single inch of Spencer nuzzling inside of you. You watched his eyes, seeing how they planted on your boobs. You chuckled softly, reaching your hands to him that were sitting on your hips and bringing them up. You placed his hands on your breast, knowing that Spencer would be too shy to do it himself. You held his hands there, feeling his hands squeeze them gently as you did.
"I wanna..." You start, being interrupted by a soft moan that escapes your mouth as Spencer starts to thrust his hips up to meet yours. "I wanna make you do it again... i want you to cum in me again..."
That is all Spencer needed to hear, his stomach already creating a tight coil that could break at any moment. Your thrust was starting to pick up, his cock being pulled almost completely out of you before you slammed your hips back down to push him all the way into you. With Spencer's cock deep inside you and his hands squeezing your tits roughly, you felt you had died and went straight to heaven, or was this hell? Because you doubted you could find sex like this in heaven, this was dirty and sinful. The curses dripping from each of your mouths and spencers moans that sounded like something straight of a porno filled the room and most likely the entire floor of the hotel.
You couldn't hold yourself up anymore, hunching over Spencer as your hips continued to thrust roughly. Spencer moved his hands back to your hips for the hundredth time tonight, helping you thrust his cock inside of you. You were both overstimulated, your clit sending shocks of electricity through your body every time it made contact with Spencer's lower stomach. The coil inside you threatened to burst, frustration filled you as you tried desperately to bust it open and make more of a mess than it already had been. You reached down in between your legs, rubbing the small bud and sending lightning through your body.
"Fuck... gonna cum...gonna cum on your cock..." You moaned out, stuttering every time Spencer's cock filled you up.
Spencer took that as a sign to thrust harder back into you, moving his hips up and forcing your hips down. You were on the edge, every single inch of your body on fire as you fucked yourself onto Spencer. and with one single hard, deep thrust from Spencer... the coil in you snapped once again. You shoved your face into the sheet next to Spencer's head, screaming into them as you came all over Spencer's cock. You felt this feeling couldn't get any better until you felt Spencer's hot cum flow through you once again.
You were too in your own world to even hear Spencer's loud scream/moan he did as he came deep inside you, you both being thrown out of your own bodies as you came. Your juices flow together to make one big mess out of the sheets, something that will be embarrassing for the housekeepers to clean in the morning. You both laid there for a minute, basking in each other's warmth and feeling spencers cum seep out of your cunt.
It was strange to you, how you would much rather Spencer's cum dripping out of you than... well anything in life. You weren't exactly the most sex-driven person, but at this moment you knew why some people were. Spencer somehow got into your head, planting himself into it and keeping it hostage. With that being said, you couldn't stay mad at Spencer, you honestly completely forgot why you had been pushing him in the first place. The name Lila is so far away from your thoughts, that you don't actually care anymore.
You slid Spencer out of you with a wince, flopping down next to him as he came down from his high. You shifted to your side so you could watch his pretty face, his eyes fluttering open, his mouth trying to steal whatever air he could get... He looked blissful. You felt oddly proud about it, knowing that you were the one to do that. However, through the pride, you felt a deep guilt. Spencer was the kindest boy you have ever met, he chose you to give his heart to. Yet you were upset with him because he kissed another girl? No, he didn't kiss her... she kissed him. You felt petty now, the regret of ever questioning Spencer's loyalty mended into your brain.
"I'm not mad at you, you know?" You're tired, worn-out voice making it sound like a whisper. Spencer sighed softly, clear that he had forgotten as well and now he's remembered it all again. "It's just...seeing her with you, it just brought me back to high school you know? It made me feel how I did when fucking Rachel Clark tongue fucked my prom date..." You let out a soft sigh, playing with Spencer's hair as you talked.
"You know it's normal to feel that way, especially when you had a similar experience," Spencer explains, going on another one of his Reid rants. "And well, anyone would feel like that whether you had a similar experience with it or not. I know I would." Spencer's eyes wandered to the ceiling, closing his eyes due to utter exhaustion.
You couldn't imagine Spencer Reid ever getting jealous, he was always so calm about everything. You wondered what it would look like. Would he pin you to the bed and fuck the shit out of you like you did him or would he just not know how to deal with those emotions. You honestly wouldn't want to put him into a situation where he would feel that, you couldn't do that to little Spencer. He was innocent, as if the world had not touched him yet even if he does look at the dark underbelly of humans every single day.
"Yeah... well you won't ever have to worry about that my love." You said softly, cuddling yourself further into his side as you closed your eyes as well. "You're stuck with me..."
Spencer chuckled softly, at complete peace that he was stuck with you. If you were the person he was stuck with for the rest of his life, he would die a happy man. You two didn't even bother wrapping up in the blankets, you just needed each other's warmth as you lulled each other to sleep. The presence of jealousy and anger nowhere to be seen, maybe y'all didn't talk it out tonight but you sure did fuck and made up. You wouldn't have it any other way. 
832 notes · View notes
ghouljams · 7 months
Note
Medievall au Konig…
King of a neighboring kingdom, who is declaring war. The king and queen, parents of Ghost’s princess, offer her hand in marriage as a peace offering. inviting him over to shortly court/get to know the princess, but falls in love with her lady in waiting? (or any type of servant/help type worker)
God this is dangerously close to my cursed king König from my novel and I am for REAL holding myself back here. This isn't going to be König's new medieval au, but I wanna see Ghost sweat and I love causing the princess pain. So I’m using my cursed König here, because I love him, and also because he’s just a little fucked up, and also also because he is just... incapable of loving the princess lmao
You hate this.
Your maids have spent all day preparing you to meet a man that could become your husband. A king. You pout as they scrub you with perfumed soaps, rubbing scented oils into your skin and hair until every nook and crevice if you is soft and sweet. It's truly the most extensive bath you've ever had, and all you can think of is how badly you don't want it to end. The same with your makeup and your hair, all the primping and poking takes far longer than you would've liked, and yet far shorter than you need. It's miserable, and your maids are too chatty, too excited. They don't leave you alone long enough to cry.
Your parents, well your mother, have planned a rather elaborate dinner to introduce you and the neighboring King. You desperately want to kick and scream, throw things and make a mess until someone takes notice of your misery and puts a stop to it. Your maids tighten the strings of your dress, fix your necklace until it sits just right on your chest, spritz you with perfume, and tip your tiara until it catches the light with the sparkle of tears in your eyes.
"You look beautiful m'lady," your lady in waiting smiles, squeezing your shoulders tight in an approximation of a hug. It's not a comfort. You feel like a horse being trussed up for the market. You say nothing, you think she gets the idea. She's always been a good friend to you. "Maybe he'll be terribly rude and ugly, and the King will kick him out before the meal is over," she suggests.
"One can only hope," you mumble.
Ghost isn’t waiting for you outside your quarters door. Your eyes dart around the hallway, past the knight that offers you an introduction. He should be here, why isn’t he here? He wouldn’t leave you if something important didn’t come up, something must have happened. You turn to your maid, confusion stealing away your anxiety for the moment. 
“Where’s Ghost?” You ask her. You hardly have a spare moment to feel sorry you’ve ignored this poor knight who you’re sure is his stand-in.
“Orders of the King,” The knight tells you, “I’ll be your guard from now on.”
Your heart falls. They’re really serious about this. You wonder if your mother put up a fight, if she was the one to suggest it. It feels like a betrayal of the highest order to look at this knight and tell him.
“I’ll be in your care.”
When all you want to do is throw a royal fit and tell him to get Ghost or get out. You suppose you could. You could go back into your room and send word you won’t be attending anything. Be a true royal brat. You shudder to think what would become of you if you did. Without Ghost to protect you, there’s no telling how quickly you’d be dragged from your quarters. Placed in front of your royal guest kicking and screaming, what a first impression that would be.
It feels like a funeral procession walking down the hall towards the formal dining room. Your feet hardly want to carry you, but you can’t run with an unfamiliar knight at your heel. For all you know he’d chase you down under your parents orders. That was the one thing you never had to worry about with Ghost, perhaps you took it for granted how loyal he was to you and only you.
You stop in front of the heavy wood doors. You don’t even get a moment to collect yourself, barely get a squeeze of your hand from your lady-in-waiting before the guards on either side open them. Immediately your worry over Ghost is replaced by anxiety for yourself.
The doors open, the guests at the table stand, and you look up, up, up, at the man you assume is your neighbor King. The height of him, the sheer mass of musculature and masculinity frighten you. You thought Ghost was tall, does this fucker come from a land of giants? The King tips his head to you, and you dip into a low curtsy. As well trained as ever.
"König," your father smiles, a ringing rising in your ears as König stares you down, "this is our daughter, Princess-" You wish you could say he at least seems interested in you. He doesn't. His eyes look bored at best and disdainful at worst. You wish you could say more but the lower half of his face is masked. You'd wonder what that was about, if you weren't so terrified that this man was going to take you away, he doesn't even seem to want you.
The man, König, has an air of violence to him, madness almost. An air you find infecting your mind even as you walk to your seat. The proximity to him doesn’t help the feeling that if any man would be the hand in your death it would be him. You can hardly imagine what a marriage to him would entail. How cruel could he be, when you couldn’t even sense a spark of warmth from him.
You knight pulls a chair out for you, and you sit, moving on pure instinct. König's eyes slide off of you to touch your maid as she leans to speak to you. You barely hear her over the ringing in your ears, your breath coming short as you stare at your place setting. Did you leave your heart in your room? It feels like you must have, you hardly think it's beating.
You feel like every muscle in your body is pulled taught, tightening to keep your skeleton from shaking. You can’t think against the rising wave of dread that settles over your mind. Your vision is so fuzzy, and the crown on your head is impossibly heavy. The weight of awful responsibility. An animal raised for slaughter, that’s all you are, all you’ll ever amount to. Another bargaining chip in your parent’s pocket to be thrown on the table in front of any unwed king they find important enough.
This is worse than an interview with a nobel. There’s no need for a formal meeting between you and a king. If he likes the look of you he can take you. There’s nothing more that needs to happen to make you his. A wedding is a formality. You’re sure that giant of a man has never heard ‘no’ in his life, and even if he had you’re sure that no didn’t last long. Where is your gentle knight? Why do you have to be doomed to a nightmare when so many other girls get to be loved?
Someone touches you. No one is supposed to touch you. You jerk away, the world snapping back into focus with a rush of sound and color. You maid crouches next to you, your hand between hers, concern clear in the furrow of her brow. You look around the table, the startled expression of your parents, König's wide eyes. Your lady in waiting swipes her handkerchief over your wet cheeks silently. Are you crying?
"I'm sorry," you smile at the other people seated at the table, "I'm just- just so excited at the prospect of marriage I suppose." Your lady- your friend fixes König with a sour expression, still dabbing at your makeup. You glance at your mother to try and pick up the conversation, maybe salvage this torture. She isn’t looking at you, her eyes set on König. Her expression is placating, her smile as warm as a crocodile’s. Political, just like you are supposed to be.
The air in this room is stifling. Your parents love you, but they care about you only as far as you’re useful to them. Despite your mother’s previous words, a king is too good a deal to pass up. Just like a princess throwing a tantrum in the middle of the night is too disgraceful to mention in the morning. 
“She’s not usually like this,” your mother tells König, her voice sweet, “she must be nervous in the face of a man so…” König raises a brow, despite the full plate of food in front of him, he has yet to remove his mask, “handsome.”
You shove off your maid’s fussing, your skin crawling to be touched by anyone. You’re going to be sick. You hardly mutter an ‘excuse me’ before you’re running from the room.
524 notes · View notes
adventuringblind · 7 months
Text
Sunrise
Oscar Piastri x Autistic!Reader
Genre: Angst
Summary: The fans and media get to Oscar’s girlfriend in a way he’ll never forgive
Warnings: SUICIDE AND SH depictions, toxic media, death threats, lack of communication, anxiety, Oscar is a mess.
Notes: …. We’re not talking about my patterns alright. I swear I’m in therapy.
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Oscar is not normally an irrational person. He prides himself on his calm and collected state. Something that his neurodivergent counterpart loves because it makes him easy to read. Everything is clear to her with him.
He adores his girlfriend. Plans to eventually marry her one day. He doesn’t care that her body isn’t the ‘standard’ for beauty because he finds her stunning. He doesn’t care that she has deep passions for her interests and could talk for hours about it because he loves listening.
So why is it his fans don’t get that same thing? Why do the vultures have to attack her for doing nothing wrong?
He ponders these questions as he sits in the hospital waiting room. Fingers crossed he got to her in time.
~
She’d turned off all her notifications on social media. She had to. For some reason now that Oscar and McLaren are on track and fighting again, people are seeming to notice her more often.
Gone are the days of sneaking off into the quiet corners. Numbered are the days she’ll be able to spend with him at this rate.
The death threats started a month ago. To many things she’d rather not think about. The name calling is flat out unnecessary and something she doesn’t understand.
She knows logically nothing can come if it. But the nagging at her brain won’t stop for some reason. She hates it, being empathetic. She just feels so extremely that she can’t decipher if the words hurt her or if she’s angry and why she feels this way. It’s to much for her mind to process.
So she turns everything off. No social media for her.
She’d simply told Oscar the hate was to much and she needs a break from the internet. Which isn’t a lie, but she didn’t want him to worry about her and start doing poorly because of it.
Instead curled up underneath her blankets with music and switched off the world.
~
Oscar is feeling alright with fifth in Hungary. Not exactly where he wants to be, but it’s still considerably better then where he was previously.
As is routine, he gets into the garage as quickly as he can. The one thing he managed to negotiate for with his PR team: the he gets to check in on his girlfriend before he does media duties.
He peers inside. It’s mostly empty due to the incoming podium celebration. But there is no sign of her. Nothing is the garage or his driver room or Lando’s room, or the bathroom.
His heart thuds in his chest. This is routine, and she always sticks to her routine. If she’s not here then something must be terribly wrong. Oscar pulls out his phone to see he has a text from her and the weight on him lessens just a tad.
‘Sorry I won’t be there for the end of the race! I was feeling incredibly sick so I went back to the hotel room! I love you so much! 🧡🖤’
And suddenly that weight is back. If she left then something is clearly wrong. She’s stayed through blurry vision from migraines, endured hours of overstimulation for him, even dealt with his fans pushing her around. Yet she always stayed. If something caused her to leave then it’s definitely something to worry about.
He ended up missing the podium celebration. His PR manager is looking for him. But he could care less and heads straight for Zak.
He gives a brief summary of what’s going on and defines is as an emergency. That word was what made Zak let him go as long as he promised to keep everyone posted.
Then he ran.
~
Race weekends have come to be one of her favorite things. The consistent hum of car engines stimulates her brain in a way that she loves.
What she doesn’t love is the fans. She wonders for a moment if all the WAG’s have this kind of hate. So she sets off to go find Lily and ask. She’s become close with her over the course of this year. She’s also passionate about things and it’s fun to listen to her get excited over her interests. Something the female can relate to well.
When she neared the Williams hospitality, she saw Lily and waved her over only to be stopped in her tracks by a few fans in McLaren gear. She instantly took notices of the very blatant disregard for personal space and the negative energy they carried with them.
Then they out in some fake smiles and handed her an envelope, walking away without a word.
She was left confused and stunned. But also curious. The envelope in her hands had some weight to it and she can’t help but wonder what’s inside.
She doesn’t hesitate to open it. Her eyes scanning over the contents. Every second she looks at it makes her feel sick to her stomach.
Someone had been stalking them. Not just her and Oscar, but Lando as well. Addresses, pictures, personal information, even images from intimate moments where they are very clearly without clothes.
She could see the possibility of her and maybe Oscar being stalked if these are the same fans who have been harassing her for a couple months now. But Lando as well makes her feel dirty and upset in a way.
It’s to much. She feels to much. It’s overwhelming.
She stuffs everything back inside and finally gets to Lily. A brief excuse leaves her lips that she’s going back to the hotel cause she’s feeling sick. She takes note of Lily’s instant concern and the female does her best to fight back every emotion. It’s utterly draining. She has no energy to sort out her feelings and other peoples feelings when she can’t understand any of them anyway.
Lily lets her go on the condition she texts her when she gets back to the hotel.
She agrees. She'll be messaging everyone when she gets there.
~
Oscar gets into his car and fumbles around for the keys.
He left them with his stuff. His stuff that he doesn't have. Now he's going to have to run all the way back.
He gets out and heads straight to the McLaren garage. Ignoring the strange looks.
He even tries pulling his phone out to call her. Straight to voicemail. Twenty times.
Halfway there, he runs into Lando. The Brit is winded and carrying Oscar's things.
"I'm driving."
~
She can't believe she's actually going to do this. It's not that she's never thought about it before. Feeling alien on your own planet will do that to you. But she feels like she has no other choice.
It's too much. The fans want her dead, and they are willing to do horrible things to get it.
She can't handle it. The feelings of all of it are overwhelming. She can't tell where her emotions end and someone else's start. The letter written to her only points out further.
The last few months have been beyond her limit. She doesn't feel safe in her own skin. Everyone is telling her she'll never be enough. That she is not meant for this life.
She'd thought about her friends as she wrote those damn notes. The blank looks when she says something lnnapropriat for the conversation. The times she's had meltdowns and they had to deal with her.
She thinks about Oscar, too. His note is three pages long. It's intimate, and she hopes he can understand it. Words she's written countless times the last months to make sure he understands her decision.
She lays it out where she knows he'll see it and then locks herself in the bathroom. The bathtub is filled with ice-cold water and not filled all the way to the top. Just enough to make things easy.
Is she really doing this because those damn fans are going to leak everything about their lives tonight if she doesn't? Certainly a factor in her decision. It seems the logical solution if she's to fix the problem. She hates herself for this; that she can't just be what everyone wants.
That thought brings the first cut.
She didn't bother taking off her clothes. She hates the feeling. They cling to her skin and it makes her want to peel her skin off.
The second cut is for her clothing.
Then the third.
And a fourth.
The fifth makes her dizzy.
The sixth causes her vision to dance.
The seventh and eighth she can't even register.
Everything is numb by nine and ten.
Then nothing.
~
Oscar and Lando take three steps at a time.
Apparently, Lando had run into Lily and found out what had happened. The Brit also felt his stomach drop with the feeling something is wrong.
Oscar sprints down the hall when they make it to the right floor. Fumbles around with his key card. Then, finally, he gets the door open.
He scans the room. There is paper stacked neatly on the table. An envelop almost thrown to the side.
He looks at the note addressed to him, and he chokes. Lando is searching for any sign of life but the Aussie can't see past the fact that there are fans asking her to kill herself. And that she felt the need to say yes because now they have stalkers.
He'll think about it later. Right now, Lando is screaming for him.
He barrels to where the voice comes from. Again, he chokes. This time on frantic tears.
Lando is looking like he might pass out, but the Brit is staying strong for his teammate and friend. He tries to get Oscar to help him.
She may be passed out, but the Aussie registers Lando saying she has a pulse. That she's still breathing even if it's shallow.
They work together to drag her out of the water. Her make it so that when they set her down, she immediately is sliding on the tile. They wrap her arm in wash rags. The only thing they can find to slow the bleeding. But the cuts are too deep. It doesn't slow.
So they call an ambulance.
Oscar doesn't register much after that. Listening to Lando instruct him on what to do, including breathing. Riding with her to the hospital. Watching her be taken away. Meeting Lando in the waiting room.
Now he has nothing to do but wait and look through everything he missed.
Her socials are where she's being threatened, sure. But it's the contents of the envelope that got Oscar angry. Way past the point of livid.
"Lan, I- what the hell." He shows everything to his teammate, and terror stretches across his face.
And then she was left with a ticking clock and an ultimatum. Disappear or have all this and more released to the public. What better way to disappear than to do it permanently.
It breaks him. He can't breathe past the thought of not having her around. He can't live knowing she left because the world is suck a cruel place. And he feels utterly selfish for wishing her to stay with him through it.
Somehow, he ended up on the floor, sobbing dramatically into Lando's sweatshirt.
But then others start to appear. It's not just the two of them because there are so many people that care for her.
Max shows up first with a certain Monegasque in tow, followed by Alex and Lily, the latter of which looks about as broken as him. Then George and Lewis appear, followed by Logan.
They explain what happened. Everyone is shocked, and there are no words between them for a few minutes as everyone processes.
"I don't understand why someone would do this." Pipes Max. He knows about death threats fairly well, but this is a new level of extreme.
"We could say something. Make a statement about it and start a suicide awareness campaign." Lewis suggests.
Oscar knows a campaign probably won't do much against whoever sent this, but a statement might. He wants to say everything on his mind.
And that's exactly what he did. His PR team be damned because this takes precedence.
~
She wasn't expecting to wake up. She wasn't supposed to wake up. So how is she awake?
She cracks her eyes open just a tad to assess her surroundings. Her arm is bandaged and she's underneath some of the worst textures to come in contact with.
The thing that catches her eye is the brown locks of a specific Australian. She moves her hand to them and runs her fingers gently along his scalp.
he shifts around a bit before relaxing into the feeling. At least she could give him this before she ruins his and Lando's life.
She's not sure how long they go on like this until Oscar sits up and yawns. He blinks a few times and adjusts himself to the florescent lights.
She's not sure she's ever seen Oscar cry before. Once at a really sad movie, but even that was just slight. Now he's crying tears for her. The sound makes her tear ducts spring into action as well.
"Please, don't ever do that again." He rasps. His voice crackles with the sound of sobs.
She doesn't say anything. She can't say anything. So instead, Oscar crawls into the bed with her. He just cradles her body into his.
"I'm sorry." Is all she manages to say. And after a few more breathes she continues. "I didn't want to be the reason you and Lando lose your jobs. Or be the cause of your stress. And then everything felt like it was too much, and I just wanted it to stop." She feels pathetic.
"I promise that I will never be upset with you for something like this. The fans pushed and pushed and then drove you into a corner. But in the future, you have to come to me. I can't help if you don't communicate with me."
"What about racing? And Lando? And all your personal information?" The weight she'd had before has made a sudden return.
"Should be taken care of. We beat them to the punch and made a statement about how someone close to McLaren had been threatened and the person responsible would be posting personal information." Oscar explains. She feels better knowing they didn't say it was her name. "I also said I would be taking a break from socials for personal reasons... and also said something about how much I love you."
~
The news came out eventually. It's not every day that F1 driver's campaign for mental health. But they've all been incredibly helpful. She is on the road to recovery and Oscar intends on being with her through every step of the way.
517 notes · View notes
tonkatsubowl · 8 months
Note
Hello sorry if sorry if this is sudden but I was wondering if you could write about the Hsr men meeting their newborn child. (If you're not comfortable with this that's completely understandable and I wish you a good morning afternoon or goodnight ☺️)
Tumblr media
OOOHH yes i am down for this! i was actually thinking about doing something similar to this! (ノ*°▽°*)
Tumblr media
dan heng was nervous. he had originally planned on staying by your side, even took this entire week off to be there for you on the day where you would give birth to his beautiful child. unfortunately, dan heng couldn't make it due to his mission. he had originally predicted that he wouldn't even spend less than two days on another planet, but here we was, getting into a spiral of unfortunate events, disallowing him to see you by any means.
luckily, he was able to make it after your child's birth. he feared that you hated him. he feared that him not being present when you needed it the most would cause him to be a terrible father, but really, the man was overthinking like crazy.
the sounds of your child crying echoed into his ears as he sped down the halls of the hospital, recently and freshly returning from another worldly expedition. stopping in front of the door to your assigned room, he breathed, his heart racing. but he couldn't just use this time to calm down and act all aloof... he had to see you.
entering the room, he saw you and his first born child. you were exhausted, your hair was a bit of a mess, you were covered in sweat, but you were alive and well...as his child, too. nurses greeted dan heng as he slowly approached you, his eyes softening and bright as they were as he saw his beautiful lover holding the child, swaddled in soft fabric, held near the chest of the love of his life.
"...i-i.." dan heng stuttered, falling silent immediately as he watched the swaddled child be transferred over to his grasp. he carefully held them, noticing the tiny horns on his child due to his draconian blood. he held them close to his chest, looking at you with a sheepish smile. his eyes...they were bright and soft.
"welcome home," he whispered to your child, bringing the newborn close to his chest.
"i'm so sorry i was late."
Tumblr media
blade was lying if he said he wasn't nervous, or if he didn't really seem worried about you and his newborn child.
after what had occurred in his past, he became overly protective when you officially got pregnant, and never dared to let anyone near you. from dusk to dawn, elios had practically allowed blade to skip out on a mission, forcing silver wolf (who sighed in annoyance a few times, saying she wanted to beat her games) to take his blade on these expeditions while kafka accompanied her.
of course, silver wolf and kafka wanted to be there too when you gave birth to your first born child, even preparing some gifts for you while they were on the way back from another world.
in the hospital, blade never left your side the moment you began the process of childbirth. he hated seeing you in pain, but he held your hand when you kept pushing.
eventually enough, your child was born, and he didn't want to hold them at first.
"why? what's the matter?" you asked blade as a rare, soft look in his crimson gaze befell upon the swaddled child, "why do you not want to hold them?"
"..." blade was silent for a moment.
did he deserve to hold his child? he looked at his hands, his expression almost...emotionless. but you knew him. you knew him well. and you knew what was bothering him. and you knew what he was thinking about, too.
he had already tainted his hands with the sins he bore upon his shoulders, carrying the amount of lives he's taken away out of pleasure or for the sake of his mission.
and his child... your child... was the symbolism of pure innocence. holding his child with the dirtiness of his hands seemed so...wrong.
it felt almost undeserving that he wanted to hold his child. he feared that they would grow up to be like him.
"you're letting something bother you again, blade," you murmur, extending your free arm out as you held the child in your other arm. your hands brush against his own, intertwining with his fingers. "but please don't allow your past mistakes⸻your sins⸻to influence how you wish to raise our child or how you should be there for them."
blade was still silent, but you could hear him exhale sharply. you were right.
"...y/n." he nodded, acknowledging your statement.
he showed you a side that nobody would ever see. he didn't show it, but his eyes did⸻and he was absolutely readable. he extended both of his hands, taking the child into his arms, carefully cradling them.
you smiled, watching as your lover began to bond with his newborn child, allowing yourself to relax against the fluffiness of your pillow.
Tumblr media
it was no surprise that being a military general and all, the lack of his physical presence was...well. expected.
and jing yuan felt awful for it. he felt even worse that you understood why he couldn't be there by the time you were in-processing of childbirth. he held your hands, kissed them, and promised to be there by your side no matter what... but here you are, alone in a room with several doctors and nurses while he was working away on militia paperwork.
were you upset? you had every right to be, jing yuan thought. but luckily enough, he was there after the events of your painful hours...
the moment he had finished the last bit of work, he bolted away, using every trinket and trick up his sleeve to get to your side faster. as he was on his way to you, he figured that you didn't want to see him. that you didn't want him to see yours and his child. that you hated him. that you—
"welcome home, jing yuan."
his heart strung, shrinking at the sound of your soft and soothing voice. how the open window near you welcomed the gentle breeze that fluttered through your messy locks, beads of sweat covering your forehead as you held your newborn child close to your chest.
he froze, admiring the sight of the love of his life and his newborn child. he approached you, his eyes softening, bright and glistening with relief... yet...
"... i'm so sorry." jing yuan murmured as he stood by your side. despite his apology, he still had a smile. a sheepish one, at that.
"for what?" you shake your head, looking at him with a confused expression as you hand your child over to the general, allowing him to hold them. from the sound of your voice, you were still very tired, wanting to rest as soon as possible.
"don't worry about being apologetic over nothing, jing yuan."
the general's face softened. he didn't deserve you. he felt so awful, but... what mattered was that he was here now. here with you and his firstborn child.
from this day forth, he vowed himself to always protect you and his child.
Tumblr media
welt yang already had a child, but it wasn't entirely his. he has an adoptive son whom he still thinks about on a daily basis. the moment the two of you found out you were pregnant, he was quick to become overly protective of you. he wanted to be a better father. a better figure for your child... and someone who would be there for his family.
he was a busy man, yes, but it didn't stop him from actually being there to make sure you were alright. he spoiled you throughout your entire pregnancy, and it was definitely a lie if this man told you he wasn't worried at all for you.
the man has already been through a lot. nobody can't exactly blame him for being protective of you, especially when it came to your vulnerability of pregnancy.
the moment you were admitted to that hospital room, welt immediately disappeared from his office and went straight to you, already preparing some sort of aftercare procedure for you after you had given birth. from preparations of warm tea, your favorite foods and the like... he made sure you would be treated like royalty, even if you didn't want it at first.
the moment the child was in your arms, there was a rare, soft look on welt's expression as he watched you hold his child close to your chest. so small, so innocent—it wretched his heart when he reached out, the child's tiny fingers wrapping around his index digit.
he melted internally, unsure of what to say at this moment... but it was truly a given that he was incredibly happy at this very moment with you and his child.
"welt," you murmured, "you're..."
you reached up, brushing your finger against the corner of his eyes. you caught them glimmering with tears of joy. there was a soft smile on your face as well welt's as he held your child close to his chest.
"...i'm just so happy, y/n."
Tumblr media
gepard was luckily relieved from his duties due to the kindness of bronya.
during your pregnancy, gepard was nothing but an absolute worrywart. every time you coughed or sneezed, he ran to your side all anxious, asking if you were okay. he would assist you up and down the stairs despite not needing his assistance, especially when it came to sitting down or even just lifting a few pounds that you can handle.
"y/n, let me." you were pouring some tea for yourself, but gepard would immediately take over your spot, not wanting to burn yourself from a few splatters of hot water.
"y/n, please be careful...!" he helped you up from sitting up from a chair that allowed you to lay back a bit, his hands gentle.
"y/n! please, let me handle it." you were literally reaching up to grab a book off a shelf to read. he was so protective of you...
of course, you didn't want to scold him. this side of him was absolutely adorable. you weren't exactly independent anymore...
but here came the in-process of your childbirth... he was there for you at every second of it all. his heart wretched in pain when he heard you cry as you pushed it through, bearing the pain of being both a mother and a woman as you birthed an innocent life.
after the success of childbirth, gepard had such a soft and innocent look on his face, akin to a puppy-like gaze as he saw you hand the swaddled newborn over to him. allowing him to hold them. he breathed, carefully holding his child in his arms as he admired both his lover and the offspring.
"...i-..." gepard began, holding them close, "god. they're so beautiful." he whispered, gently wiggling his index finger over his child's face, booping their nose here and there.
"i'm so incredibly... overfilled with joy."
Tumblr media
surprisingly enough, sampo wasn't much of a stupid klutz around you. the moment he had found out you were pregnant, sampo did everything he could to be by your side.
every cramp, every kick, every pain you felt during your pregnancy... he would rush to your side with your comfort food, your favorite tea and other sorts of things that made you happy and feel content. he would often come home with a giant plush of your favorite animal and some dessert, knowing you'd be craving for the monstrosity known as sugar.
when you were giving birth, however, sampo was there too. he had to prepare himself mentally, knowing you would be in excruciating pain as you gave birth to his child. he had to endure it, hoping you would be well after the birth of your child.
successfully enough, it was a success, and sampo would leave temporarily to retrieve some gifts for you and your child. in came sampo with balloons, gifts and stuffed animals that may or may not be for you (and your child).
"i really hope you didn't steal those," you say to sampo as he came into the room with the gifts, holding your newborn close to your chest.
sampo didn't respond to you at first, as his eyes laid upon his newborn. he placed the gifts down on the ground, quickly moving towards your side.
he was silent, but there was a smile that never left his face as he slowly picked up his own child, cradling him so close to him.
"their nose... it's so cute. just like yours." sampo teased, chuckling to himself as he reached forward with his own head, brushing his nose against his newborn's forehead.
"at least their nose isn't like yours." you tease back, your eyes dazed and tired from the pain you felt today.
the beads of sweat on your forehead were already dried off from the gentle breeze that was welcomed from the window next to you. the soft birds that sung to each other, and the loving husband who cooed at his newborn that remained by your side was the glorious song of them all.
Tumblr media
luocha had always been calm, collective, gentle and soft, especially when it came towards you. never once had he felt nervous or worried, not even when you both discovered that you were pregnant...
the moment he had found out, he expected for you to feel pain and discomfort for several months. although it was difficult for anyone to really read luocha's emotions, you could read him easily. every time you felt pain, cried or ached from the movement inside of your stomach, he rushed by your side.
"are you alright? do you need to go to the hospital? do you need water?"
really, this side of him was absolutely adorable. you had to reassure luocha countless times that you were fine and that it was a small kick, nothing more... nothing less.
then came the day of your child's birthday.
luocha kept a calm and collected composure, but the moment he heard you cry in pain as you pushed, he had to endure listening to you. but you were strong... you were capable of this. and he admired you for it — and thus, he had to put his trust in you. he believed that you and your child would be safe.
after childbirth, he never left your side. he held the swaddled newborn close to his chest as you remained deep asleep on the infirmary bed. he had already brought you a large amount of food for you to enjoy afterwards, as well as some of your favorite coffee/tea for you to have when you wake up.
even as you sleep, he would take care of your newborn.
you deserved the rest after the pain you've been through the last several months, and now he would make sure that he would be the best, loving father known to man kid.
569 notes · View notes
foreingersgod · 21 days
Note
Ur so right about cc content being non existent 😭. I was wondering if I could request a cc fic or hc with Pro Tennis player!reader 🫡
Of course my love!! hope you like it :)
A/N: i’m not a huge athlete so apologies if this has slight inaccuracies
Battered and Bruised . CC
pairing: caitlin clark x reader
synopsis: typically caitlin is the one that comes home with the injuries, but when you take a nasty fall during your big tennis match, she’s the one to take care of you.
Tumblr media
you love caitlin, but god did she get hurt a lot. you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t tired of the late nights stood between caitlin legs as she sat on the seat of the toilet, tending to countless bruises and scrapes.
but there were a fair share of sweet moments when she’d come home from an intense game. regardless of the pain she was in, her eyes would never leave your face. she was entranced by how beautiful you looked: hair messy from your evening practices on the court, mascara slightly smudged under your eyes, the way your tongue poked out of the corner of your mouth while you tried to open the bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
“please stop staring, i look like shit” you’d say.
“you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen in my life” she’d reply, fingers fiddling with your skirt “i’m so insanely lucky”.
and she really meant it, she’s so grateful to have someone like you. someone who was willing to ‘nurse her back to health’, as you put it, no matter how late in the night it was or how little the cut might be. she wished you could understand how much something so little could mean the most.
so when you came home from a pretty nasty game, skin drenched in sweat, knees sore and covered purple, and your feet blistered, she knew this was her moment to return the favor.
“holy shit, YN, you look terrible” caitlin said, shocked to see you so beaten up.
“gee, thanks babe” you dropped your duffel bag and racket at the door, collapsing on the couch. you did your best to give her a sarcastic smile, but everything hurt and you could barely feel your face.
“stop that’s not what i meant,” she wasted no time rushing to your side to sit next to you. pulling up both of your legs to rest across her lap, she gently removed your socks and shoes to rub your aching feet. “what the fuck happened today?”
you honestly don’t really even know what happened, the match started off so well. but the entire time you couldn’t stop thinking about how caitlin wouldn’t be there this time due to conflicting schedules and it really threw you off your game.
“everything happened” you sighed, rubbing your head “first, you weren’t there today, so all i could think about was how badly i wanted to come home to you. then i kept messing up all my drills before we started…and the girl i was against today was so fucking bitchy and such a dirty player! i just couldn’t keep up like i normally do and i just…” you rambled mindlessly as pain shot through your entire body.
she reached over to push the hair out of your face, softly rubbing her thumb over your cheekbone. “YN…”
“and i just kept tripping and i skinned my leg, i think at some point the ball hit me square in the head so now my whole fucking head hurts” you cried.
“baby, it’s ok, shhh, you’re ok” she cooed, forcing you to sit up next to her and she enveloped you into a hug. you just wanted to cuddle up into the side of her hoodie and stay there forever.
caitlin held you for a few minutes while you tried to catch your breath and give your body a break. her hand found its way to your hair once again, pulling out your pony tail and headband to massage your scalp.
“i think it’s my turn to take care of you this time” she finally whispered into your ear. she could practically feel your smile against her shoulder.
“i think that’d be nice”
“alright stay put for me, don’t move a muscle”
your girlfriend grabbed your gear as she headed up the stairs so she could put everything away for you. then she headed into the bathroom, dimming the lights and starting the bath. she made to sure to add your favorite bubble bath (the one your sister got you for Christmas last year) and some epsom salts to ease your sore muscles. on top of all this, she made an extra effort to set out some fresh clothes for you and hang up a new towel on your designated hook.
you perked up when she finally game down the stairs, eager to see what took her so long.
“ok, up you go” she urged, helping you off the couch and up the stairs. her hand rested at the small of your back, fingers lightly toying with the band of your skirt as she guided you towards the bathroom.
once she opened the door to reveal the elegant bath she had prepared for you, you had to bite your lip to suppress a moan of relief. the bubbles, the steam, the smell of the room could just about make you cry.
“i hope it’s ok, i made to sure to add in the stuff you like to help you relax a little bit, but tell me if it’s too much or too hot or anything and i’ll-” your lips found hers before she could finish her sentence. your fingers desperately grabbed at her hoodie, trying to pull her as close to you as you could. lips molding into one another’s with ease.
“this is perfect, caitlin. i don’t even know what to say”
“don’t say anything, just get in” she smiled at you.
like the sweet woman she is, caitlin helped you undress. assisting you with your sports bra and taking off your wristbands for you too. as you stepped in the warm water, you instantly felt alleviated and sunk into the comfort. while you closed your eyes, caitlin sat next to the tub on the toilet, soaking a rag in some cleanser to take off the days makeup and wipe away the sweat and grime.
when it was time to wash up, she forced your hand away from your shampoo bottles and body wash, begging you to let her do it for you. you had to admit, it felt good to let her do all the work for you and pamper you tonight.
after soaking in the tub for nearly an hour and caitlin allowing you to vent about the match, you finally forced yourself out and let caitlin dress you for bed. she had set out your “women’s tennis” college t-shirt and matching shorts for you and helped you into bed.
“so what you’re saying is i’ve got to start getting hurt out there more often?” you teased as cait settled behind you and pulled you against her chest so she could help you brush out your hair.
“god please don’t do that,” she laughed “not that i still wouldn’t do this for you regardless, but you just always take such good care of me when i come home battered and bruised.”
she stopped combing to kiss the side of you head and snake her arms around your waist. “you’re so good to me, baby. i love you, you deserve this and so much more”
though almost falling asleep from pure exhaustion, you managed to turn your head to catch her in one last kiss and a soft “i love you”. you were so blessed to have her in this life and the next.
*ೃ༄
A/N: sorry if this is a little vague for “tennis player!reader”, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless, thank you for the request <3
205 notes · View notes
hellsfirekeepsyouwarm · 7 months
Text
I Swear To You
Frank Castle x Reader Requested:
Hello my lovely writer, I'm in great need of some protective care taking fluffy angsty Frank Castle fic. And so I was wondering if you are interested in my request =) please let me know what you think. Frank has a cute new neighbor. They ended up talking a lot, Frank even flirting with her, but doesn't have the guts to make a move. One evening she was on a date which went sideways. The creep drugged her. As she notices something is wrong she snuck out of the bar calling a taxi to go home as fast as she can. He manhandled her as he notices she waiting for a taxi but she makes it home... She barely made it to pay the driver as she stumbled to her door to out if it from her spiked drink, so she isn't able to open her door let alone find her key. She collapses at Sehr front door, lying in the Cola night (maybe she hit her head pretty badly when going down). Frank comes home and finds her in feoneof her door. She's hypothermic and he notices her weird state and knows instantly she was drugged. So he takes care of her and her wounds and tries to warm her up. He nurses her back the next days
I hope you like it and thanks for requesting, and sorry for pushing this out for too long.
TW: Mentions of dru-gs, mentions of SA, puking, a terrible man doing terrible things
Tumblr media
Frank was a goner. The moment he spotted you at the end of the hallway, gently balancing on your high heels, dress hugging your curves perfectly, hair and makeup done like you were ready to walk the red carpet, he knew he messed up. He messed up when he let his facade fall, and let you see the real him. Or part of him. Nothing was out of place, he came back from work, catching your right opposite of his door, going to a walk, to get a coffee, to meet up with your friends. You greeted him just the same, but your smile was giddy, a little bit too wide for a regular day.
He was oblivious to a lot of things, but even he could see that you are going to a date. And the guy is pretty fucking lucky tonight. He could see you wanted to impress, and you already won, because he was fascinated. He took sneaky glances, tried to act casual when you eyes spotted him walking towards you, shoulders heavy with a long ass day behind him. You greeted him as usual, asked about his day as usual, but he just couldn't act like usual. He had to acknowledge how beautiful you looked, and he did just that. A compliment, then a hidden question to confirm his suspicion. Your hips swayed as you walked away from him, giggling at his compliment, dissepearing into the night.
He was in deep. Too deep.
*
You had a good time, the best since a while. He was charming, charismatic, a kind face with a killer smile. Smooth talk, lingering touches. He was literally perfection. He really was.
As the night progressed, your glass never emptied out fully, he made sure you had plenty to drink. You didn't think much of it, his glass was the same, always full, often smiling into the golden liquor that grazed his lips. You ate, but surely not enough for the amount of drinks you consumed. How much did you really drink? You couldn't recall when your vision started to feel so tunnel like, or how your head felt heavy like a brick strapped to it. The more you felt it, the often his smile faltered.
First you thought you were just tired, haven't ate enough, that's why you are being a lightweight now. But in the back of your mind something told you it wasn't that. You only drank wine, wine that most of the time brought the frizzy numbness to you and the giggles out from you, meanwhile right now, you feel like you drank an entire cupboard of alcohol.
He is closer now. Pulled his chair next to you sometime you don't remember happening, if you saw it, you already forgot it. His breath fanning you ear as he speaks to you, something along the lines of going home, having a good time, taking it somewhere more private.
You wonder if you can walk to the restroom, or even stand up on your feet. You never had to wonder. Alcohol never made you think you physically can't move your body as you want. Panic have settled in your bones, silently urging you to do something. Anything, just to get away from him. You felt his fingers grazing your thigh, pushing your dress higher with every stroke, his voice still murmuring into your ear, although you cannot understand what he's saying.
You excuse yourself, trying to mimic you half an hour ago self. Flirty and joyful, you try to laugh it off, telling him you have to freshen up, telling that you have to pee badly, giggling while admitting it. You must act good, because when you slip off the chair, his warmth doesn't follow, nor his voice. You heart is beating rapidly in your chest, probably the only thing that you can concentrate on to not fall face first to the ground.
You are so fucking hopeful you walk somewhat towards to restroom, so he doesn't realize you are figuring your way out of the place.
A cute face emreges in front of you, your body oddly colliding with the person, you hands flying up to steady yourself on their shoulder. You would be so embarrassed if you were sober. It's a waitress, asking you if you are alright, honest concern in her voice.
You mumble something out, praying it makes sense and she'll know what you need.
"You want to go home? Want us to call a taxi?" She asks with a comforting voice. "Do you need us to call someone?"
Frank's name comes to mind first, and you silently scold yourself for never asking for his number.
"Hmmm, no."
"Let us call a taxi, yeah love?" She says, gently pushing your body forward with her hands eloping you in a side hug. Everything is blurry, your vision only picking up bits and parts of the world around.
You were more than sure that he put something in your drink. If your body wasn't so numb, you would be an erratic mess right now. Your senses are limited, everything comes and goes like a dream. You are not even afraid what he had put in your drinks, you just want to get away from him far away enough so he cannot talk the sweet lady out of helping you. You momentarily feel the cold breeze outside before the early winter air hits you in full force, the cold easing your flaming skin.
"HEY, excuse me. Where are you taking her?" The hair stands up on your whole body from his voice. Sweet, hidden malicious. "No i won't take a step back, where are you taking my girlfriend? Honey look at me!"
You don't have anything in you to respond. You just want to go home.
"Sir you need to leave her alone."
Hushed voices follows movement, softly pushing and pulling you around. Where is your purse? Did you left there at the table? You have your phone and wallet in it, you'll need that.
"My purse, my phone.." You mumble, feeling your body lowered to a flat surface.
"It's in your hands love, take care." The lady says, her voice is distant. You squeeze your hand, feeling a tiny little strap in your palm confirming your fingers are locked on your bag. You barely feel the material on your skin.
"Where to?" Your eyes go wide with a new voice calling out. You are getting comfortable at the back of a taxi, an older man looking at you, waiting for an answer, the dim light up on the car's ceiling giving him a really bad angle.
You hear yourself telling him the address, the sound is like someone else and not you. The car goes smoothly, at least that's how you feel it, the seats smell funny, and the lights outside paints a weird image through the windows, your head's starts to spin as you can't comprehend your surrounding no more. You just wish the taxi driver is kind enough to lead you to your door.
You wished and you were so wrong. He calls out to you plenty of times before you manage to get out of the car, almost tripping over your own feet while doing so, trying to give him money for the ride.
And that's it, the car speeds off behind you, leaving you trembling on the sidewalk. Just a few steps right? That's all it takes to get to your apartment.
Your body sways with each drag of your legs, barely standing up. How you manage to get to your door? You don't know, probably will never know. But you eventually do, legs giving out right in front of it, landing on your knees with a sharp pain then ending up on your butt, the ice cold ground burning your skin where it connects.
Your body gives in to the drug in your system, turning the world to black.
*
He took a peaceful walk to the nearest diner, a place he and you are very fond of, often bumping to each other there, one of those times you said yourself how you love the oldschool vibe and the quiet there. Frank only grabbed a coffee to go, the couple of minute walk clearing his messy head, head that is filled to the brim with thoughts of you. It's rare to him, to have something else on his mind than his family or blood rage and revenge. It's refreshing and terrifying. When he left, you weren't home yet, almost two hours after you waved goodbye to him, and he started to feel restless. Two hour isn't too much for a first date? He wouldn't know, even back in the day he wasn't the guy who took girls to a date. His parents raised him old fashioned, but he usually liked the simpler things. Car rides, walks with deep talks, cheap picnic with soda and snacks. So what does he knows about fancy restaurant dates?
It's cold, too cold for the tiny dress you were dressed in, but he would take you home right? He would take you home, making sure you walk in your front door, seeing it close behind you before leaving. But that's him, and he knows for sure not every man thinks like that.
The coffee warming his palm, giving him some sort of comfort to his uneasiness, his eyes searching for the familiar door when he takes a turn to your street.
No lights up yet? Now he's worried. You might went home with him. It's possible, you are a beautiful grown woman, who probably knows very well what she wants. But his jaw clenches nevertheless at the thought. His eyes dart away in shame, knowing he has no right to be mad at you for having a good time.
His head snaps back so quick it hurts his neck, in the corner of his eyes a big dark spot in front if your door that wasn't there before. He blinks for a few times to make sure it's not just his brain tricking him into some illusions. His mind failed him before, showing him terrible things that weren't really there, but the rapid beating of his heart and the pounding in his head is a signal of the familiar danger he encountered so many times before. The type of feeling in his gut when he knows the worst is coming.
And nothing could have prepared him for your frozen body on the freezing ground. In your tiny dress, exposed skin sticking to the concrete, the contains of your purse scattered around.
His instinct kicks in with full force, his hands fumbling for a pulse under your skin. He checks your wrist and neck before pulling your numb body up to his embrace, without thinking twice about who might see him taking you into his apartment. God knows how did you end up there, and he's not risking it if your date shows up at your door, finishing what he had started.
Because why else would you be lying knocked out in front of your home, why couldn't you get in, why else would you loose consciousness if not because of a doing of a horrible piece of shit man?
He is a man on a mission. Something he felt ages ago, and now it's welcomed with a sense of purpose and a sharp sting in his heart.
You are terribly cold in his hands, and he has to hush the voice in his mind that tells him the worst possible outcome.
He rushes to his bed, putting you down on his sheets gently, fingers trembling as he pulls your damp dress off of you, at this point he can't bothered that you are nearly naked in his bed, this isn't how he imagined it. He rushes off, his boots heavy on the creaking wooden floor, looking for the warmest clothes he has in his mostly empty wardrobe. It's a hoodie and sweatpants he comes up with, the best he can offer.
He knows you'll be greatly embarrassed when you come to your senses, so when he removes your undergarments, he tries to do it as respectfully as it's possible. One clothing off and another on, your icy skin burning under his warm hands, the sensation leaving a bad taste in his mouth. A reminder that he has a bastard to find after you are recovered.
His mind is racing, the loud thump in his ears slowly quieting down as he checks for your pulse again, cursing himself that he doesn't have a damn thermometer. He should have called an ambulance, he thinks. But god knows how much time they need to get here, if they ever. He's being selfish. But you are in good hands, he wants to think you are okay with him.
He's greatful for his years in the military, now more than ever. When it comes to himself, he's tactical and precise but numb. Any wound he stitched up and treated is decent enough, but nothing more. His own discomfort and pain is a welcomed guest. But right now it's not his body that is in pain, and he's not allowed to be careless and emotionless. You are wrapped up in his bed, safe and sound, but it's nothing to soothe his nerves.
He grabs a towel from the bathroom, the exact same of the pretty set you gave to him a couple of weeks ago when you saw his own torn up one, insisting he needs it way more than your wardrobe where you kept it since buying them. He gently lifted your head from the soft pillow, neatly covering your damp hair in it, your soft breaths music to his ears, he leans closer, just to confirm you are breathing evenly.
He considers for moment before deciding to open your eyes with his fingertips, his suspicion is confirmed by your blown pupils, the color of your eyes barely visible from the blackness of it. He sighs, rage and anger coursing through his veins, tempting him to get up and find the fucker. It would be easy, so easy. But you need him more than he needs to ease the bloodlust.
Just now he realizes he is still in his coat, sweat glistening on his forehead, his body hot under the layers he should get rid of, dirty boots tainting the already year long stained flooring of his apartment.
He glances over to you, a last conformation you are okay before he himself changes from his street clothes.
He doesn't mean to overstep, but when he goes back to you, and you body is just as cold as when he found you outside, his mind is set. He carefully slips in to the bed, he himself isn't sure how he manages to get under you, he searches for the best way for his body to give off it's heat to you. So you are now trapped between his legs, back laying heavily on his abdomen, hair tickling his bare skin. It's more intimate Frank anticipated, but to be honest, he wasn't debating about it much before doing what his brain told him to do. He would change his mind about the position if he couldn't feel your body soaking up his warmth. It's satisfying, how you take unconsciously, and he's basking in the feeling of giving. It's been so long since he was able to serve gently, in a quiet manner. Like when he ruffled his son's hair, or put the school bag on his daughter back. Or how he played with a single strand of Maria's hair, putting it behind her ear.
So his hands pulls you closer, every part of you hugged by his body, giving and giving everything he has to offer.
*
Your head hurts. No, not hurts, splits into two, even more when your eyes open with a painful sharp feeling behind them. You would groan if your throat would let it slip past the desert that's inside. The rest in your bones mixing with various aches under your skin, and the comfort around isn't enough to reach your body. You are tempted to back to sleep, sure another hours wouldn't hurt, before you mind clears up, shaking the sleep out of you.
It hits you like a lightning. What day is it really? What day was yesterday?
You shot up, dizziness almost pulling you back down with a terrible feeling in your stomach. Before you could comprehend anything that's happening, something is held to your face where soon you empty out the contains of your stomach. A soothing hand appears on your back, trying to keep your hair there while you puke your literal life out. Sweet words reach your ears when your traumatized body calms a little bit down.
"You are alright, sweetheart." It's Frank's voice. "How you feelin'?"
Your grimace, disgust being the only thing you are feeling besides every ache of your body. "It's okay, darlin'. Just breath, let it out if you have to."
You look sideways, seeing him half naked, his body so close you can feel his warmth radiating towards your trembling body. He's concerned face is looking for something in yours, perhaps panic that why he is here with you, or the fact, that you aren't in your own room, or apartment, or why are you wearing his clothes that hangs on you loosely. There is an explanation for it, you know that, and you don't have the will or the energy to be panicked. Despite these thoughts, you heart beats out of your chest, hearing your blood rushing in your ears.
"What happened?" You ask. If you are with him, he's having all the answers. What is the last thing anyway that you remember? You getting ready? Was it yesterday? Your date. You don't remember your date. It's daytime right now, so it's surely passed.
Maybe it's too apparent on your face how you put together the pieces in your head, or he's just panicking at how you are starting to panic that you don't realize. Your shaking body is fumbling with the duvet around you, eyes snapping to Frank then to your surroundings, frantic with your every move. Like an animal cornered.
"Hey hey hey..You are alright! Look at me darling! Look at me." He forces you to look in his eyes, warm and safe, attention seeking. "You were drugged last night, but you are okay, you hear me? You'll have a hell of a day today, but it's gonna pass. Nothing happened, okay? He did nothing to you."
It's sincere. Everything he says he believes. How does he know?
"How..?"
"You know how, sweetheart. Let me get you some water okay? Get back in bed." He commands, leaving you on the side of the bed. So he is Frank Castle after all. You had you suspicion for a while, and you might asked too risque questions he caught on. How does this makes you feel? Kind of relieved, and grateful? You are grateful that your neighbor is a cold-blooded killer?
"There you go. Drink slowly, okay?" He murmurs, a black t-shirt now covering his upper body. You take careful sips, eyeing the man next to you without shame. He does the same, watching intently with so much comfort in his eyes.
"I don't remember anything." You voice is defeated, drained even without using it for hours now.
"I know, i'm sorry." Tears are threatening to fall as your mind tries to navigate the information that you have been drugged.
"What if he.."
"Nonononono, look at me! He did nothing to you. He put it in your wine, let you have too many drink, but he did no more than that!"
You nod. Accepting it. He's the Punisher after all.
He takes your hand in his, planting a faint kiss on top on your knuckles. "You are safe, i swear to you."
You are safe with him.
181 notes · View notes
thecagedsong · 2 years
Text
Look, book-Sophie's arc is dear and personal. Because she is an eldest sister, and so much of that is to her advantage in the story. She knows how to quell tantrums and knows how to run a shop and knows how to clean and make a home worth living in. The story would be infinitely sadder if Sophie was one of those "not like other girls" who couldn't cook or clean. Sophie knows that loneliness is the worst, leading her to talk to Calcifer enough that she knows how to break Howl's spell. Being bossy enough to get small children to stop fighting lets her deal with Howl and Calcifer's moods. Being unwilling to burden other people led her to talking to things, which is the essence of her magic! She acts like this because she's the oldest and knows how to take care of other people's hurts without them feeling like they have to take care of her. People can depend on her.
Sophie knows how to make a home from the start because she's the eldest and has been helping for ages. It's a great and wonderful thing that she knows all this!
What's terrible is when she think that it was all useless. She's cursed and her sisters are busy courting, her stepmom got married and sold the shop, no one in the town she grew up in recognizes her, the wizard she lives with can't stop whining about her cleaning to figure out she's bespelled and could really use some help, and she's right back at her father's shop a month after leaving.
But it wasn't useless! She and Howl just didn't have the communication skills to get her to know that. Her sisters are desperate with worry! They ask everyone, even Horrible Howl that eats young girl's hearts, for help in finding her! They have a reward posted for any information about her! Her step mother recognizes her almost on sight! Her sisters run to her the second they see her. They love her and their lives have been less without her. The skills she used to build up a home in the moving castle is one of the reasons Howl, Calcifer, and Michael love her and trust her with Howl's heart and Calcifer's life. Howl is actively returning the care she put into their home by consulting all his wizard friends about her curse to get to the bottom of it. (and is too busy to actually be courting anyone) Being nosy and bossy let Sophie see other worlds and get her the adventure she has never believed herself capable of.
That's what it actually means to be the eldest daughter.
Her manta "Of course I failed, I'm the eldest of three!" both pulls the reader to identify what is being constructed and deconstructed, the role of elder sisters and puts the reader in the odd position of thinking "what a self-aware fantasy character!" and "what a stupid thing to let stop you!"
One of Sophia's main internal struggles is about a fear of failure because the world tells her she's going to fail. Then she fails and immediately goes to the conclusion "the world was right, I am a failure for this arbitrary, uncontrollable trait."
Sophia escapes this mantra for the first time when she's old and is like "well, who cares what they have to say now. I'm old and earned the right to do as I please". The thoughts come back through, the way messages telling of hardship and failure always do, but she doesn't let it stop her anymore, not like it did the first months of the book. Why?
Because what being the eldest daughter actually means is cleaning up messes because no one else is going to clean yours and your siblings are too young to clean up theirs.
Sophie is pulled into plot points almost exclusively by the need to clean up her mess or help someone else. Gotta protect Lettie from Howl catching her heart and breaking it! Gotta help Michael with the spell! Gotta free Calcifer who can't break his own curse! Gotta help the poor dogman that hates Howl! Gotta help Miss Angorian, even though she's a beautiful lying manstealer! Gotta kick Howl out of his despressive spirals! Also gotta help Howl by blackening his name before the King (no one said helping couldn't be fun).
Ironically, the very trait the world told her would make her unsuccessful was crucial to her success. She's scared to fail like everyone has said she would, but she doesn't stop trying to help people anyway, in her eldest daughter way, and she succeeds in the end and rewrites fate. I love her.
2K notes · View notes
forever-rogue · 8 months
Note
Okay so normally I’d do this off anon, but honestly I’m really hurt by it and just wanna submit something for your writing pleasure if you’d like to write something like it. So recently I was meant to meet up with someone that I thought was so different than other dudes I talked to and he just completely ghosted me. He used to wake me up with good morning beautiful messages and now I’m left with absolutely nothing. I was hoping you could make on where that happens but it’s like a mess up with the towers or something and then Eddie or Steve shows up with flowers and everything like days later when they realize the readers not gotten any of their messages. They explain it and show them how they didn’t go through and reader just throws themselves into their arms crying and saying that they didn’t think they were good enough for them but the boys just prove to them how amazing and wonderful they are.
Tumblr media
AN | This would feel so terrible! Luckily, Eddie is not the type of guy to just ghost someone 🥰
Warnings | Mild Language
Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 3.3k
Masterlist | Main, Eddie 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"You're doing it again," you looked up from your phone and found Alicia watching you with a knowing little smile. Your entire face flushed with warmth as you locked your phone and tucked it away, "mhmm, just like I thought."
"Shut up," you groaned, throwing her the middle finger as you walked to the kitchen. She might have been your best friend and your roommate, but damn. She read you too well sometimes, "mind your business."
"How am I supposed to mind my business when you're pining over some boy?" She sang the last word and you business yourself with making some tea, "a certain boy that calls you princess and beautiful and angel. Now that's like romance novel level shit."
"I…no, ugh. Stop," you pleaded with her, trying to hide the fact that you were grinning widely and flushed like crazy, "he doesn't do that."
"I've seen the texts," she tutted and you hid your face behind your hands, "its alright, babe! I think it's really sweet actually. He's totally into you."
"Maybe," you sighed softly, "but I do like him a lot. He's really sweet."
"Are you going to see him again?" Yeah, you sure hoped you would. The first date with Eddie had been nothing short of magical. You didn't believe in love at first sight or anything of the sort…but Eddie definitely had you questioning that. And that was scary in and of itself, "I feel like you need to. I'm personally invested."
"I will," you promised, tummy swirling with butterflies. The mere thought of seeing his pretty face again made your heart flutter, "I want to see him again. Alicia, ugh, I really like him already."
"So romantic," she agreed as you put a little honey in your tea. You stirred it thoughtfully before taking a long, slow sip. You hoped the tea and its magical powers would cause your head to remain straight and your thinking in order. Before you could say anything else your phone lit up with an incoming FaceTime call, "speak of the devil."
Your heart started to pitter patter excitedly as you contemplated whether or not to answer it. Obviously you wanted but you didn't want to seem too desperate. You looked at Alicia and she just pushed the phone towards you. 
With a groan you grabbed your tea and phone and rushed to your room, accidentally slamming the door behind you.
"Sorry!" You called out before taking a moment to catch your breath before answering the call. Your heart almost stopped when you saw his pretty face beaming at you through the screen, "hi."
"Hey pretty girl," oh no. His voice was soft and smooth like honey and velvet. He was definitely going to be the death of you, "how're you?"
"Hi handsome," you set the tea down and flopped onto your bed, trying to act calm and casual, "I'm alright! Just got home a little bit ago. Work was…rough. Just one of those days I guess. How are you?"
"Ahh, you know, same old, same old. Got some pretty rad ideas for DnD for the next time the kids are in town," he waved his hand around, causing you to giggle. He was always so expressive, and it was a quality you enjoyed about him, "but my day is much better now that I've gotten to see your pretty face."
"Stop," you buried your face into your pillows, groaning loudly as Eddie laughed. He loved getting you all flustered and shy, "you're being gross and mushy!"
"I'm only being honest," when you allowed yourself to look back at your phone you found him smiling softly, "I've got a question for you, if I may."
"Of course…"
"Will you," he paused for dramatic effect, leaning in closer, "go on another date with me? Maybe this Saturday if it's not too crazy of an ask?"
"Yes!" Your answer was given without hesitation, so excited that it caught both of you off guard. Eddie's cheeks pinked as you gnawed on your bottom lip, "I mean.. yeah, that'd be cool. Totally works for me. I'm so cool and calm about all of this."
"Such a little dork," he leaned back, stretching and taking a moment to collect himself. He didn't want to seem too desperate, and the fact that you were so eager made him feel so good. He'd never had someone make him feel this way before; but he'd known from the start that you were special, "I like it - you."
"Me too," you promised softly, "what did you have in mind?"
"Let me surprise you," he suggested and your curiosity parked up, "I'll pick you up and we can go on an adventure. Whaddaya say?"
"Sounds like you've got yourself a date," the two of you exchanged shy smiles, the anticipation buzzing between the two of you, "now, tell me about these DnD ideas!"
Eddie was so easy to listen to and got so excited that it made you excited. You didn't really understand much of what he was saying, but you still enjoyed listening to him talk about his passions.
This was going to be a problem. You really liked Eddie Munson. It was almost scary how fast and easily it all happened. 
Just like that. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You had a couple of days before you were going out with Eddie again and you'd been buzzing with energy the whole time. You were so excited to see him again. You'd only known him for a little over a month but it felt like you'd known him forever. Everything came so easily with him, so naturally. It was like your heart had been waiting for something all this time and you'd finally found that in Eddie.
And it all felt so great. 
Until it didn't. 
It was Wednesday morning, and when you checked your phone after you got up, you didn't have anything from Eddie. Which was odd considering you'd woken up to good morning texts from him for the last month. You tried to push down your disappointment and figured that maybe he was just really busy. He wouldn't ignore you purposefully. 
You went about your morning routine and headed out to work, still without having heard from Eddie. By the time you went to grab lunch, you decided to text him. You'd been getting nervous and wanted to make sure he was alright. It was so strange not to hear from him at all, especially when you'd grown so used to talking to him throughout the day. 
Unfortunately your text went unanswered. By the time you got home, you were both worried and mildly annoyed. He could have spared you at least a quick text or something.
"What's got you so upset?" Alicia clocked your mood as soon as she walked in the door. You were leaning against the kitchen counter, clutching a glass of wine as you stared off in thought. You thought you were hiding your dour attitude a little better than that. Apparently you were very wrong.
"Nothing," you drained the rest of your glass and shrugged your shoulders. Alicia grabbed the glass and set it onto the counter, raising an eyebrow at you, "fine. Eddie hasn't texted me all day."
"What?" Her mouth formed a small o in surprise as you nodded, feeling pathetic, "how…why. That doesn't make sense! He's practically in love with you."
"Okay, that's dramatic but yeah," you let out a long, heavy sigh, "its just weird. He's not normally radio silent. He says something at least but I haven't heard a thing today. I hope nothing is wrong and he's okay."
“Let’s not go to that extreme either,” she gently nudged your side, “I’m sure everything’s fine. Maybe he forgot to hit send on his text or he’s just really busy. You’ll have a good night or good morning text tomorrow for sure.”
“I hope so,” you grabbed the bottle of wine and poured the last of it into your glass. Drinking wasn’t the answer, but it did cut through some of your nerves, “I don’t think he’s the type to just suddenly ghost me, but I guess nothing these days is that surprising.”
“He wouldn’t,” she promised softly, “and if he did, we’ll track him down and make him suffer. I got you, babe.”
“Thanks,” you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up and escaped your lips. You were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. You just hoped he wouldn’t disappoint you. 
You contemplated sending him a good night text night, going back and forth on it for way too long before deciding fuck it. You highly doubted that you would come off as clingy and even if you did, you didn’t care. After over a month and a half of constantly talking, this was such a strange change of pace. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The next morning your texts remained unanswered and there was nothing new. The only notifications you had were the usual ones from your friends. You weren’t sure if you should be annoyed or worried. Your second date was supposed to be the following day but at this point you weren’t so sure that was going to happen. 
In a spur of the moment decision, you decided to try and call him. But as soon as you hit the green button to call him, the call went straight to voicemail. Alright…so more than likely his phone was dead. That wasn’t so strange, right? Eddie was a self-confessed scatterbrain so he’d probably neglected to charge his point the night before. You hadn’t left a voicemail, instead shooting him a text to find later asking if he was okay. 
All you could now was wait…and hope that you heard something from him. You had been so sure and convinced that Eddie was one of the good ones and hated the idea that you had been wrong all this time. 
But as the time wore on, your phone remained drier than the sahara. You hated that every time you received any sort of notification you scrambled to grab your phone, hanging onto the last bits of hope that you were going to hear from Eddie. Your abysmal hopes were crushed by the end of the night as you crawled into bed and went to sleep. You didn’t bother to try and reach out to him again. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Saturday rolled around and you felt absolutely crushed. You were supposed to have your second date with Eddie that evening but didn’t even hold out any hope for it considering that he’d been mia for over two days now. The outfit you’d picked for your date tonight was hanging against your closet door, taunting you. You’d thrown it together as soon as you’d ended your last facetime call with Eddie.
With a heavy heart you pulled off the back of the door and set the hanger back among your other clothes. You’d decided to busy yourself with doing some of the chores around the apartment that you’d been putting off including going through and organizing your makeup and closet. Anything to keep your mind off the fact that you’d been ghosted, stood up, whatever you wanted to call it. 
Alicia worked this weekend, so at least you had the place to yourself to wallow around and be sad in peace. Despite the fact that you’d basically been dodging her as much as possible, she knew what was up; she was your best friend after all. She’d already started planning a girls’ date night for a few days from now when she was off to surprise you and hopefully cheer you up. She was such a kind spirit and you loved her a lot.
You decided to text Eddie one more time, probably a desperate attempt. You wanted to see if he was at least willing to give you some sort of explanation for his sudden disappearance. You felt like you were owed that much at the very least, right? After all those sweet words and plans you were left with nothing. A small part of you was still worried that something had happened to him, but it was unlikely that something that bad had happened. 
You spent the day working yourself to the bone before taking a hot shower and calling it a night early. At least if you were sleeping your thoughts wouldn’t keep wandering everywhere. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Sunday came and you were up bright and early. Your body really didn’t want you to get any extra rest despite it being the weekend. You stared at the ceiling for a while before getting up to start getting around to doing things. You felt so pathetic being so hung up over a boy but you know, the heart wants what it wants or whatever that expression was. 
You’d taken the time to make some breakfast and coffee and sat at the kitchen counter, scrolling through your social media feeds as you ate. It was a random knocking on the door that caused you to startle. You set down your coffee as you slid off the stool with a grumble as you walked to the door. You didn’t even bother to see who was at the door before cracking it open. 
“Yes?” you asked, brushing some of your wild bed head out of the face.
“Hiya,” you knew that voice. You knew that voice. You looked up and there was Eddie Munson standing in front of you, pink cheeks and a boutique of your favorite flowers in one hand. He held up his hand in a weak little wave as you opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water.
“Hi?” you asked as he scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, “Eddie, what are you doing here?”
 “Umm, well, I hadn’t heard from you in a few days so I figured I’d come say hi,” he sounded so nervous as confusion marred your face, “that sounds so pathetic and I feel like some weird stalker. It was just that we’d agreed on a second date and then I hadn’t heard from you and it just felt off. I thought we’d been getting along so well and I, umm, I…I really like you. I also just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“What are you talking about?” you weren’t totally tracking what he was saying but he seemed so genuine and sincere, “Eddie, I haven’t gotten any texts or anything in days from you.”
“What are you talking about?” he was shaking his head, a few curls falling out of his messy bun, “i’ve been texting you and everything.”
He looked so crestfallen at your words that it did make your heart stumble for a few beats. But then you remembered the upset you had gone through the last couple of days and you shook your head. The tension flowing between the two of you was palpable, “that’s such a bullshit story, Eddie. Did you come here because you got bored or something?”
“I mean it,” in his haste to show that he wasn’t lying, he almost shoved the flowers into your hands as he reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone. He fumbled around for a moment, hands shaking with nerves as he tried to pull up the messages that he’d been sending to you…allegedly. Eventually he pulled up your message string and turned his phone around to show you everything.
You made a small sound of surprise when you saw a slew of texts that he had sent to over the last few days. For whatever reason your texts hadn't gone through to him….just as his hadn’t sent to you. You Sighed heavily, letting out a breath of exasperation as you shook your head. You blinked back a few tears as he let out a nervous laugh, “Eddie…”
“I don’t know what happened,” he said softly, “but umm, I didn’t want you to think that I just ignored you and I wanted to make sure nothing happened. It just was weird not hearing from you again. You can look through my phone i-if you want. I’m not talking to anyone else or anything, only you.”
“I don’t know what happened,” you set the flowers down gently on the granite countertop before taking his hand and pulling him into the apartment. You closed the door and handed him back his phone before grabbing your own and showing him the same thing on your end. You watched his eyes widen in surprise, “but I was worried about you too.”
“Yeah?” his big brown eyes lit up with excitement as you nodded, “umm, I can go if you’d like. I’m not sure where to go from here or even if you’d still want to-”
You knew he was a nervous rambler, it had been one of the first endearing qualities you’d noticed about him. But this time, you cut him off by taking his face in your hands and kissing him. That seemed to shut him up immediately and his hands found your waist as he pulled you closer to him. Neither of you wanted to let go, only pulling apart when you both needed a breath of air. 
“Umm, does that mean you don’t want me to go?” his cheeks were a dark pink and you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up and escaped your lips. You put your hand on his face and gently brushed your thumb over his cheek. 
“I don’t want you to go,” you confirmed softly. Relief flooded throughout your body and all the worry and anxiety you’d been experiencing were slowly leaving. You hadn’t been imagining that Eddie really liked you - he did. He did. 
“Cool,” he gnawed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, “I don’t want to go either. I was hoping you hadn’t totally decided you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. ‘Cause I kinda really like you already.”
“I kinda really like you too,” you promised, the two of you exchanging shy smiles and nervous chuckles. You didn’t know why your texts hadn’t gone through to him and vice versa but it really didn’t matter. You were just thankful, among many other things, that he had cared enough to come and find you. Eddie Munson really hadn’t turned out to be one of those guys, “thank you for coming, and the flowers. That was really sweet of you.”
“Of course,” he smiled softly, “I know this is short notice but would you want to go out with me today? We can still do what I had planned for last night.”
“Right now?” you grew excited as you rocked back and forth on your heels.
“Right now,” he confirmed as you nodded, “but I can let you change first. I mean, you look gorgeous even in pajamas, but you might want some real shoes at least.” 
“Oh,” you just realized that you were still in sleep shorts and a tank top with messy hair, “oh. Yeah, changing might be a good idea first. But then I’d love you to go out with you, Eddie.”
“Rad,” he whispered more to himself than anything else, “one more thing since I hadn’t been able to say it in a few days - good morning, sweetheart.”
“Good morning handsome,” you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” he stole another kiss from you, “me too.”
272 notes · View notes
mezzy303 · 5 months
Text
So I've been rereading skip beat from the beginning for the first time in uhhhhh almost 10 years and I'm going inSaNE over characterizations and development that I have to write it down
At this point I'm only at the Heel siblings arc so I haven't gotten to the Guam or Saena arcs which are very big for Kyoko and Ren's character development and healing which I haven't reread since those chapters came out
Can we just take a moment to appreciate Nakamura for basing Kyoko and Ren's childhood struggles and trauma on very real things that aren't often, if at all, dealt with in anime/manga and also writing them with utmost care (Not only do the traumas inform their personalities, but their healing arcs aren't just a one and done thing!! It's a very slow process) Like starting with Kyoko, her single mother neglected her so much that she was raised by a family friend. On top of that, nothing Kyoko did was ever good enough for her mother, and both of these things are so apparent in Kyoko's character. She attaches herself to fairytales and magic as an escapism and because she relates to stories like Cinderella. She literally cannot function if she messes up and no one criticizes her. She can't properly acknowledge her own talents and beauty without it being attached somehow to fairytales; she never quite believes shes good enough. Similarly, she didn't want to bother anyone with her troubles, so she always dealt with them alone/in private spaces. Pretty sure she also has lowkey abandonment issues. And this is all parental trauma!! Things she already has before the series starts and she gets so utterly heartbroken she swears off romantic love entirely so she can never get hurt the same way again.
(I don't think I'll ever get over how Kyoko told all this to Kuu and he was literally like I'm adopting you. Your mine now. Sorry I don't make the rules ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And Kuu going home to his wife like hey we got a new kid 😂 Like Kyoko freezing up when she made mistakes and then Kuu showing her love instead of reprimanding her makes me go 🥹😩💖✨😭💝 Kyoko getting all fluffy from head pats🥹🥹 But on the downside she literally can't bring herself to call him dad unless she's in acting mode sjdfhsf)
When I really consider it, I wonder if Kyoko really loved Sho as a person or like.... the idea of him. Like he was just a convenient guy via proximity bc Kyoko needed someone to be her "prince". We haven't been shown exactly why she fell in love, but it would explain why she stuck with dedicating herself to him despite his terrible personality and knowing he never saw her the same way. It's portrayed like the concept of hatsukoi in anime where its ✨pure✨and innocent✨It seems very idealistic. Whereas Kyoko's love for Ren is more mature. She sees every aspect of Ren and doesn't sugarcoat it, she sees him as he is (she does him up on a pedestal but partially bc she admires him but also as an extreme measure to protect her heart and hide her feelings imo)
And REN. trauma to the max. He had to deal with the hardships of making a name for himself when his parents are already famous, extreme racism from being biracial, his friend/mentor dying from an accident he unintentionally caused???? Like boy hates himself so much he's literally disassociating 24/7 he needs a fucking therapist. I get how being Ren has helped him in some capacity but he needs a professional asap. Though deep diving into this is so interesting because Ren/Kuon compartmentalized his issues and the parts that he hates about himself so much he created its own persona ("Dark Kuon"), to the point he's rarely ever just himself. And he buried it so deep that as soon as he cracked the lid open, those emotions just spilled out. He can't even allow himself to be happy, and when he does feel truly happy, his automatic response is acting nonchalant,,,,,,,,,,,, he didn't even realize he was doing it at first 😢
Also the symbolism with Ren's watch makes me go a little feral. I don't remember if it's originally his or Rick's but it obviously stopped when the latter died and Ren keeps it as a reminder of what happened and why he went to Japan. It's a weird item since it grounds him but also represents his heavy trauma, and I think having those two things in one kinda showcases Ren's unhealthy coping mechanisms (like grounding himself to something traumatic isn't... great...). But that scene where he realizes he took it off and he has a moment of whether it to keep it on as Cain Heel or not??? *clenches fist* it was so good. (To recap it, he had his watch so he wouldn't lose himself in the role of BJ and then forgot it in the bathroom after an unexpected trauma response) Ren narrates his thoughts as choosing between Rick or Kyoko but interpreting this, he's choosing whether to keep himself stuck in his past trauma or move forward and let himself be happy AKA stick with unhealthy coping mechanisms vs try something healthy and rely on people he trusts. Kyoko essentially becomes someone Ren grounds himself to 🥺 He still needs therapy though lmao. He's so mentally unstable in this arc,,,
As I'm writing this I'm seeing a parallel between Kyoko and Ren and how they both had an experience that completely and utterly broke them, and it was this that pushed them onto their current paths in showbiz. And they likely would never have met each other again if those things never happened (they had to lose themselves to find each other?? 😭). It's so funny to me that Ren is all like ThEiR fAtEs ArE iNtErTwInEd with Kyoko and Sho when you have to consider the fact that him and Kyoko meeting again was like. a chance in a billion. It was fate 😂
KyoRen is such a poetic ship to me. The fact that they're different people when they meet and don't recognize the other. How Ren starts falling in love AS SOON AS HE REALIZES KYOKO IS THE SAME GIRL HE MET (Ren being gray/demiromantic.... more at 5). Kyoko lowkey starting to crush on Ren when she witnesses a bit of his real personality. These two things happening around the same time??????? And Ren being SO afraid of being Kuon, his true self, because of his bad qualities, but Kyoko pulling out the good qualities without him fully realizing it?? (I'm 100% referring to Kuon being a mischievous little shit and I live for how he teases Kyoko) tbh they treat each other differently from other people without even realizing it lol. And Kyoko being surrounded by toxic and possessive men pursuing her, and Ren being anything BUT. Like my man is a gigantic green flag. He recognizes that he can't seriously pursue Kyoko bc she's a minor and he really tries his best to only be a friend and mentor in her life and keeping her trust and never crossing her boundaries despite the stereotypes of men being "unable to control themselves." Y'all take point this should be the standard at minimum☝️
I have to talk about Sho bc this boy is so fucking toxic but he makes such a fascinating character. As much as I hate how Kyoko got heartbroken in the way she did, I think it was necessary so that she could leave Sho's sorry ass and cut him out of her life. Seriously,,,, he took advantage of her and used her as a servant. she literally dropped out of school, moved to a different city, and took on two jobs for the sole purpose of helping his career and then he threw her away like a used rag (JUST THROW THE WHOLE MAN AWAY). And then he has the audacity to fall in love with her smh. Anyway the fascinating part about him to analyze is how he's so possessive of Kyoko. Like she was a mere fly in his life, but she was always his. Until she wasn't. And I think those twisted thoughts kinda morphed into feelings for Kyoko. Ig in a way he still cares about her, but it could never hide how toxic he is. Anyone who's like I don't care how this person thinks of me as long as I take up the biggest space in their heart is egotistical and narcissistic. BUT he and Kyoko bickering like siblings will always be funny. Like epitome of two people who've lived with each other for way too long so they know how the other ticks and also get on each other's nerves 😂😂Sho does makes a good foil for Ren though. Like he's basically everything Ren is not: immature, temperamental, possessive, vain, the list goes on. His only redeeming qualities as a character is providing good drama and humor and being an example of what Ren isn't.
Skip Beat is really a story about healing and learning to love yourself and letting others love you and Nakamura is such a good story teller 🥺
109 notes · View notes
artist-issues · 1 year
Text
one of the nice things about Live Action Remakes is that their terribleness makes me to go back and consider what was working so well about the originals.
Like nope, didn’t like that new Beauty and the Beast—but why? What part was the most awkward/felt the most wrong? Belle. Belle was the most awkward, disjointed-bone element in the Live Action film.
Why? Well, to answer that, I now get to go back and think about how wonderful Belle was, the real Belle, the original Belle, and see where the Live Action missed the mark.
Tumblr media
The first thing I remember feeling really rankled about was this: The original Belle was happy during “Be Our Guest” and dancing. Emma Watson looked like she was smiling patiently and quirking a sassy eyebrow for the sake of humoring a gang of silly children and wanted to get out of there.
Tumblr media
Well, why was the original Belle dancing and smiling, when she was imprisoned and objects were coming to life and dancing?
Because Belle likes enchantment. She’s uniquely ready to enjoy an enchanted castle—because she loves fairy tales. We already saw her enjoying a book about a disguised Prince. She’s not eager to leave the dinner and show to run off and find a way to escape—because she never wanted to escape. She gave her word that she’d stay in the castle and sacrifice her dreams for her father’s sake.
Tumblr media
And when a girl who’s been reading about daring sword fights and true love gives her word, like all the honorable knights and heroes she’s been reading about, she keeps it. And she makes the most of the adventure she’s currently in.
But maybe I never would have thought about how great and subtle and perfect that is if Emma Watson hadn’t totally messed it up.
292 notes · View notes
adaptacy · 5 months
Text
A Found Flame {Pt.8}
Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader
(Previous Chapter) – (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)
A/N: got to the astral boat scene... cried a lil. got to the mystra meeting... punched my monitor a lil. /j anyways i made a new divider thing cause the other one was a placeholder and uhmm dont judge it pls i am nawwwt an artist i just slapped together some bits n pieces
Word count: 1.2k
Tumblr media
He couldn’t have been more than sixty miles from Daggerford when he first felt it. Hardly subtle was the sensation that bordered on the edge of painful – a stinging pain, like a papercut or a pinch – as the orb was disturbed. He pulled his brown mare to a halt, who offered only an irritated whinny, and his palm pressed to his chest. Even when it was buried beneath three layers of fabric, he could feel the buried beat, thumping against his ribs in some attempt to escape. He wasn’t sure if it was the cold or fear that rendered his throat so irrationally dry, and his eyes flicked to the saddlebag to his left, reminding himself that his dagger rested mere inches away, should he need to use it. 
Not that he felt it was truly an option he could make – not when they remained in Waterdeep, waiting for him. Not when his mother sent letter after letter requesting his presence, worrying about him spending all of his time in that damned tower. Not when he still had so much to do, to teach, hells – to learn.
But the weave didn’t care. Mortal worries, mortal fears, mortal disobedience. What the weave wanted from him, it would take, and no bargaining would score him any better. 
It beats again, but the reasoning is beyond him. He stumbles, awkwardly shifting off of his horse and staggering off of the road, the saddlebag now in his hand. The horse whinnies once more behind him, giving a stomp of disapproval, but it doesn’t yet flee. 
Another beat, and this one echoes in the very earth around him, the leaves of the woods – the Misty Forest, he concludes – trembling at the power that he holds? The ground shudders, and again, he stumbles, falling to his knees, dirtying the plush plum of his coat. One hand presses against the trunk of a tree, desperate for stability, and the other rustles through his bag, hissing as his fingers grace the silver blade of his dagger, staining it with fresh blood. Then they find the hilt, and the weapon is retracted. He meets its eyes – his own eyes – and he feels the judgment. The shame. 
What a mess he’s become. A terrible waste of talent. A miserable slum of what was once a wonderful wizard. How far he’s sunken, wallowing as a lowlife where he once had a seat at the very table of the Lord’s Helm. A short-lived seat, it was, but the stark difference of status is nauseating. 
He hasn’t said all that needs to be said. He hasn’t seen his mothers face in, what, years? Certainly not since this gods-forsaken blight has invaded his body. He hasn’t told her he loves her, not face-to-face, in perhaps even longer. He used to share tea with her every other week. He used to brag to her about his newest studies, read his journals to her as she praised her son as though he’d done something truly life-changing. He’d promised her – promised her that he would do something with them. That, one way or another, he’d change the world, for her, for his prodigious talent, for Mystra–
Gods, Mystra. 
They’d never understand. Perhaps nobody could – the mere idea of godhood isn’t something the average mortal fumbles with the concept of. To touch godhood, real godhood, to feel godhood’s embrace, to taste godhood, to love and argue and plead with godhood? 
No, nobody could understand. 
There was, once, a reason he wrecked his body to such unfathomable levels. A beautiful, divine, wonderfully perfect reason. A reason he’d hunted down the extent of her reaches, dared to tussle with some influence even larger than his goddess, a reason he threatened the very origin of the weave itself. 
There was a reason he’d gotten so far, and fallen even further. He liked to believe there was a reason he was chosen. A reason beyond his charm. A reason beyond her playfulness. How arrogant everyone else must have been – reminding him again, and again, and again, that he was not special. Not to her, not to them, hardly even to himself. How sweetly she spoke to him. How highly she praised him. How generous she’d been, to so fondly accept his kisses, his touch, his love, only to sever all ties the instant he strayed too far. 
His grip tightens on the dagger, and the earth trembles again – he wants to find a purpose. Beyond being the plaything everyone says he is. Beyond being just a muse in her long history of flings, of mortal manipulation, of abandoned chosen after abandoned chosen. His eyes close, and he tries to find a sense of belonging in his memories with her. Whether it be in her lectures, her fleeting warmth, her luring coos or her mystical prowess. 
He tries to find a sense of belonging seated at her side. So many years of his life, wasted to entertain her for a mere fraction of her trite immortality. In decades, he’ll be nothing more than a few lines in even fewer books, a word of warning to young wizards everywhere. He’s read them before, the names thus far belonging to men all but unfamiliar to him. Karsus, Dornar Silverhand, Khelben. Even Elminster shared such similar encounters, only ever brought up in quickly-fading exhales, shame stringing the sentences along, unwilling and cold. 
Youth lent him such forgiveness. Disregarding the tales were easy – this Mystra would be different. This Mystra would love him the way he loved her. 
But he’s no longer the doe-eyed seventeen year old he was when he granted her the benefit of the doubt. Instead, he’s nearly forty, and tired, and weary, and finding himself at the receiving end of a ridged, steel-forged blade, the orb pulsing, twisting, battling to overrule the beating of his heart.
And the woods shake again, and he feels the apical tip press into his skin, earning a hiss of discomfort from his bared teeth. 
He pressures the blade further, but the earth shakes again, and he’s thrown off his balance, the blade lodging instead in his shoulder, and he groans in overwhelming discomfort, his irritation for the misplacement only overshadowed by the pain searing through his nerves. 
The orb doesn’t erupt, but the sky certainly does, splitting to cast a large darkness over the forest – over the entire world, for all that he knows. He rolls onto his back, fighting to remove the blade from his shoulder, but his grasps are awkward and far too hesitant. A large, snaking mass of flesh-like anatomy swipes over the forest, knocking trees around him, and his chase for suicide is halted by an intense horror, completely unaware of what in the hells is happening above him. He coughs, choking on his pain, and another curse of biology crashes into the forest. 
He’s able to follow the form to its root, finding a terrifically unfamiliar hard-encased body of flight soaring the sky above him. At last, he rips the dagger from his shoulder, crying out at the tearing of muscle, and he instinctually tosses it aside. He hears the horse, at last, galloping to a safety he can only yearn for, and he’s not even granted a chance to see which direction it ran before the appendage of likely certified doom separates into smaller tendrils, the trees knocked aside once more until one grazes his torso, perhaps only by a mere stroke of luck, or the lack thereof, and he’s whisked into a pitch-black loss of consciousness.
58 notes · View notes