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#wish i wasn't so tired and in pain all the time
catsushizz · 3 days
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My Belle
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
Warning: fluff at first then just angst, death, grief, major character death (do tell me if I miss something)
Summary: Spencer loves you like it was breathing but what would he do when that source of oxygen is gone?
a/n: first time writing Spencer, I'm a sucker for the angst I hope you like it!
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Look how she lights up the sky...
Spencer heard it from a mile away which brought a small smile to his lips, he heard footsteps which isn't surprising that he knew it was yours because of the skip of your steps and that melody you kept humming.
He heard you open the door still humming the song as you took off your shoes. "Hey, Angel," he says lovingly as he greets you by the door.
You smile and kiss him on the cheek "Hello Dr. Handsome" he chuckled at the endearment and engulfed you in a tight hug.
You have been dating for 3 months and Spencer knew he was going too fast by telling you to share an apartment with him but that lingering doubt quickly disappeared as fast as it came when you suggested it yourself.
Spencer knew you were it for him. He knows your favorite movies to your favorite songs he knows almost everything about you actually.
You hummed the song and dragged Spencer to the living room "What got you in such a good mood?" Spencer chuckled.
"Having you all by myself today" you grinned, resting both of your hands on his shoulder. Spencer couldn't stop smiling, he was looking at you fondly, his hand on your waist as if it was meant to be there.
"Let's dance" you whispered, nuzzling your head to his chest "Explain how we are gonna dance with no music-"
"So far above me yet I...know his heart belongs to only me" You smile as you sing the song, you love changing the lyrics, Spencer specifically loves it when you change Evangeline to his name he remembered hearing it for the first time and he couldn't stop thinking about it for months.
"Je t'adore, Je t'aime Spencer" You chuckled at how off-key it was but it didn't matter when you saw that sweet smile of his. You started guiding him to move, your head resting near his heart and his finger stroking circles on your waist as he held you closer. Loving you was something he wished he had done a long time ago, he wished that he was there your whole life.
It became a routine, you dancing with him.
After a bad case, you'd sing for him, and if he was feeling down you'd urge him to stand and dance with him and that always made him forget why he was sad in the first place. He would never get tired of that song or your voice. Whenever you fight it always ends up with both of you in each other's arms and in tangled bed sheets in the morning.
3 months turned into a year and a year turned into 4 years and now you're engaged, his love never withered and neither did yours.
his team always asked him how he got so lucky he didn't know the answer to that and he just thanked whatever God that brought you to him.
But the gods were cruel. They give and they take.
He visited your grave every day with fresh flowers in his hands but they always ended up disheveled from how tight he was holding them. Everything changed after you left, he changed and he no longer rambled about his fun facts to the team, in fact, they hadn't heard him laugh or smile in a while.
He'd get snappy with them whenever they asked a simple question, his state wasn't any better too, he looked as if he needed to seek professional help.
"Spence?" JJ knocked on his apartment door but received no answer, she was about to try again but the door swung open. Spencer stood there annoyed and a frown displayed on his lips.
"What?" He asked, he didn't mean to sound so harsh but he was just having a hard time, he had a nightmare again, usually, it was you who would coax him until he calmed down but you were gone and it was a painful reminder every time he wakes up from a bad dream, he would much rather prefer to be stuck in that dream than face the truth.
"can I come in?" JJ's voice is gentle that was something he came to despise, everyone has been walking on eggshells whenever he's around and he hates it because it just makes him remember that you were gone.
Spencer let her in reluctantly, JJ's gaze darted everywhere in his apartment, it was a mess. She looked at Spencer with worry, a question hanging from the tip of her tongue.
As if sensing it, Spencer sighed and massaged his temple "No, I'm not using Dilaudid" he said harshly.
"That was not what I was gonna say-"
"Why are you here?" For the first time since she came in, he looked her in the eye. She freezes, she did not think this through.
"Spence, I know it has been hard for you, just let me help you- let us help you," she said with a hint of urgency in her voice.
Spencer clicked his tongue "I don't need help, get out" he calmly said but the way he said it begged to differ.
"I said get out!" He snapped making JJ flinch, she had never seen Spencer act like this but instead of backing out, she fought back.
"I know this is hard for you Spencer but didn't you stop and think that the whole team not only felt guilty because they couldn't save her but they lost her too? She was like family to them." She was crying now. Spencer was about to retort that they didn't know her like he did but she stopped him.
"I know she was your fiancé, Reid, but she was my sister, and losing her meant losing half of me so don't act like you're the only one grieving because we all are, let us help you and we can fix this, it might take a long- long time but let us do it together" she pleaded and fresh tears started to flow from Spencer's eyes.
It was quiet for a while nothing but broken sobs from both of them.
"I- I can't remember her voice" Spencer's voice trembled, his hands shaking making JJ engulf him in a hug. He held her tightly, his tears staining her clothes "I can't remember her voice" he repeated again like a broken record.
"shh, it's okay" JJ coed.
"I couldn't save her, I promised her I would protect her, s-she trusted me to protect her" he stutters, his breathing becoming labored "I don't know what to do, I love her too much to let her go"
"I know" JJ's voice broke. She remembered the night vividly, the night she lost you, she remembered how nothing could calm Spencer down, and she remembered how he cradled your blooded form from the comfort of your own bed, his sobbed mix with his overwhelming fast breathing, it tore her to shreds.
When you were at the hospital, she remembered the whole team was there, she remembered how Spencer couldn't sit still and how he had been crying for hours but when the doctor dropped the dreaded news, she could feel Spencer's heart drop, how his eyes became void of any emotions in just a second.
He dropped to the floor with his hand gripping his shirt near his heart where your head always rests when you're slow dancing, just remembering that made him let out a gut-wrenching cry, his shoulder shaking as he kept repeating the word 'no' over and over again.
When he felt like he couldn't breathe Morgan coaxed him to breathe with him but nothing could work. Losing someone special is like losing your purpose to function and having you gone was something he didn't realize he'd had to face.
--
"I have- uhm, I have a video of her," JJ said, pulling out a disc from her bag. Spencer had now calmed down, and seeing the disc from JJ's hand brought him an unfamiliar surge of emotions.
"She loved recording herself talking and singing, and she mentioned you here more than I can count" she chuckled holding back herself from crying.
She handed Spencer the disc with a tight-lipped smile "I'm gonna give you some privacy" she said taping his shoulder as she made her way out of his apartment.
Spencer didn't say anything nor did he move from his spot on the couch. The disc on his hand felt heavy as he stared at it.
He's scared, he's scared that maybe if he plays this video he won't ever move on and fall into a cycle where he can't stop watching the video for fear of forgetting your face and your voice.
He didn't even realize he had played the disc until he saw you and heard your voice in the video and when he heard it, it brought a new batch of tears pouring out from his eyes.
"Oh hi! Shit, how does this thing work?" You mumbled as you adjusted the camera. "JJ? Is this thing broken or am I just tweaking?" You called out, Spencer saw the camera shift to JJ her face contoured with annoyance.
"you're holding it wrong-" The video ended and for a few seconds it came back again but this time he was met with your beaming smile. Spencer choked on his tears, his heart clenching seeing your infectious smile.
"I met a guy" you giggled making Spencer smile despite the tears flowing down his cheeks "I'm gonna marry him someday, I just know it. He's my sister's colleague, he's smart and extremely handsome, and he likes reading as well, can you believe that?" You exhaled a disbelief sigh.
Hearing that brought a wave of nausea in his system, you never got to marry him.
The video then showed JJ looking at the camera with Emily on her side as JJ tells Emily to be quiet, and then the camera shifts to you and Spencer.
He remembers this, this was 2 years ago on New Year's Day, the both of you were at Rossi's mansion but decided to come out to have the time for both of yourselves.
You were singing but it was muffled because the camera was too far away "Move closer!" He heard Emily whisper "I can't, they'll see us" JJ rebutted but Emily grabbed the camera and the sound of her running with the camera violently shaking from her grasp made him chuckle.
He heard you clearly now, he had never been so thankful for Emily. You were humming and in between the humming, you told him that you love him and Spencer had to pause the video because he was having a hard time breathing again. He didn't finish the video and he fell asleep crying.
Spencer thinks he can't ever forget you, even if he settles down with someone else (which he doubts) he knows he can't ever forget you because loving you was different, different in a way where you'll yearn for it your entire life.
And when he played the tape again, the fleeting moment in which he genuinely smiles is then replaced by him crying again whenever you mention how much you really loved him.
Nothing feels light in grieving and when time passes it gets heavier it may be subtle but it's there. His future with you was forever gone in the wind, merely a whisper in his dreams and his heart ached for your warmth to be back again.
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mgc02 · 2 days
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Okokokok
What about......Angel Dust is dating Charlie's twin brother, and Y/N gets his short king dad to free Angel's soul from Valentino?
I decided to go for some angst then comfort but I hope I was respectful and appropriate
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The Last Straw
Angel Dust x Male Reader
Tw: abuse, toxic relationships, this one talks about the abuse and its affects more than my other fics have so please do not read if that is something triggering for you
You guys had to keep your relationship a secret for various reasons. One being, that the prince of hell and a famous porn star would draw a lot of attention if people knew you were dating. The other being Valentino. Angel's boss who owned his soul and treated him poorly. You knew Angel was afraid of him. Worst of all he was more worried about Valentino hurting you than him.
You knew with the power you held you could obliterate him out of existence but Angel begged you to stay out of it. Despite your worry you decided to respect his boundaries. Especially since you intervening could make things worse for him. You couldn't break deals. It was out of your control. Some days were alright, but some days Angel came home so exhausted he didn't want to even eat. You worried about his well being.
One day he came home tired again. He seemed so quiet. You noticed that he was wearing a fancy scarf he had not left the hotel with earlier. You went to his bedroom with him and once you two were alone you brought it up. At first he tried to play it off but then he got defensive when you asked him to take off the scarf. But when you've been with someone long enough you can see when something is wrong. When he removed the scarf you were upset but not surprised that it was covering up bruises. You felt a pain of sadness initially before a burning rage rose inside you. He begged you not to get involved but you couldn't let this happen anymore. But you didn’t want to freak him out so you tried to calm yourself and sat him down to talk about what you planned to do. Hopefully if you talked this through you could calm him down too.
"No one should ever put their hands on you like that. I'm going to get my dad involved. He knows how to break deals and he is perfectly capable of protecting himself." Angel tried convincing you. "It's fine! It's fine babe. You don't have to get your dad involved. He's probably busy anyway." But you stopped him. "Angel, I love you. And when you love someone you'd do anything for them. And doing anything for them just comes easy. If I was in the same situation I know you would do the same for me." Angel's makeup ran down his cheeks mixed with tears before you opened up your arms offering your comfort. He accepted and fell into your embrace. You two held each other for a while. Despite the heaviness of what just happened there was now some kind peacefulness in the silence and sound of the two of you breathing. Angel pulled you in closer. You could almost fall asleep but you still had something important to do.
You asked Angel if he wanted to come with but he wanted to stay and spend some time with Fat Nuggets. "Just still all emotional ya know?" You smiled and nodded then kissed him before heading out of his room and towards your father's tower. It wouldn't take much convincing. You knew your dad hated guys like Valentino. And he really liked Angel. You just wish you had done something about this sooner. But it wasn't healthy to hang on to guilt like that.... So you took a deep breath.... and opened the door.
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damiemontclair · 3 months
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Is it ridiculous to think maybe this whole hospital thing and related business has mildly traumatised me? Is it ridiculous that I want to write about it in excruciating detail, just get the experience out on paper, on my blog, somewhere? It feels dumb but I want to write fic about it. I think it'd fix me.
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alligaytorswamp · 7 months
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Im kind of feeling like i can't take it anymore
#vent#bad sad sleep-deprived and mentally ill#i am currently crying myself to sleep just fucking sobbing because everything hurts#my brain is failing me my body us failing me#i dont know what to do with myself#so many things are happening so many things hurt and i have no body to talk to#i have never felt so utterly alone#i hate myself for even writing this because i feel so pathetic and as if im just whining for attention#because i probably am#some lame ass cry for help because i really don't know how to function at this point#truly i am just so fucking alone#and there is just so much that is happening and i cant share it with anyone so it just all stays in my stupid brain and#probably makes me more mentally ill or smth#and for however long all i do is keep myself from crying during the day bc i cant let my family catch me having mental breakdowns#yet i have all of these painful thoughts that are plaguing my mind all the fucking time#i am just so so tired#and i keep thinking about death and it's so fucking scary#i just wish i wasn't myself and i had a different brain i could be better than this because maybe then i would be fine#at home im in toxic hell#in online spaces i have no one actually close to me#in my brain i have horrible thoughts and hardcore daydreaming distactions that dont fix anything#in my course i think im not doing well enough and im scare dthat my the end of it im still going to be a useless unemployed moron#on my silly blog i think if i dont make content i have no value and ehatever i make is not even that good or interesting#so i better cover it up with quantity but i dont have time or ability to do so#which again makes me into a fucking Nothing#god my head hurts so much#that's what u get for wailing at 4 am#anyways i am doing horrible and i can't take it anymore truly reaching my fucking limit#all my fault tho so ☺#delete later and if someone actually reads it Um sorry for this i am hashtag unwell 😋💫
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watermelinoe · 2 years
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i am genuinely so nocturnal it's not even funny. i "fixed" my sleep schedule for the women's fest coming up and now i can't get anything done, i just lay around exhausted and irritable all day until the sun goes down and then i get in bed and can't fall asleep bc i'm full of energy
#and if i take something to fall asleep i sleep for 14 hours bc my body is trying to correct itself ghdkfhdh#i still think it's non-24 hr and not delayed sleep phase bc i cycle thru every possible sleep schedule#but the sleep monitor the doctor wanted me to get was like >$1k and not covered by insurance sooo fuck that lmao#and not to rant but i hate it when people say ''night owls'' aren't real and it's just bc ur on ur phone or playing video games#i didn't have a fuckin smart phone when i was six years old staying up till midnight i just wasn't tired!!#and i have tried everything. i hate ppl being like ''well have you tried-'' yes. didn't work. i have decades more experience w this than u#i know people think i'm just lazy. even more so now that i also have chronic pain.#that i should be able to wake up every morning like everyone else.#i was so excited abt this new sleep doc because he was the first one to say ''why don't you just follow your body's schedule''#and he had this great care plan too but his team sent me on this wild goose only to find out this device would be over $1k#ppl think wow she doesn't even work like it's not humiliating to see your peers advancing their careers#while you had to give up on your dreams#i'm so lucky to be financially supported by my parents bc i would be dead otherwise#but that doesn't mean i don't feel worthless bc all my hard work in school amounted to nothing#who would hire someone who can't keep a consistent schedule? my only hope is IT but i can't handle traditional college again#it nearly fuckin killed me the first time#but will my online degree even help me#i want to work i want to contribute i want to be financially independent#i wish the rest of the world was wide awake at night like me
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haunted-house-heart · 6 months
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#it hurts so bad#it's been a year and still it feels like there's this empty space in my chest#and when i see them i think of you. when they're living this. this undeserved happiness all i can think of is you#i wish you'd come back and we forget all that happened and i know i'd forgive you. i would always forgive you#you've been out of my life for a year and you could be dead and honestly i wouldn't even be surprised. most days it felt like i was the only#thing keeping you alive. and i realize now that i never should have let you put that pressure on me but i told you i could take it even#when it made me physically sick from stress. i couldn't help it. i loved you.#i still do. that's what hurts so much. that after all this time and all the pain you've caused me i still fucking love you.#it doesn't go away. i keep thinking it will and then i see them happy and all i can think of is the pain they caused us both and the love i#still feel. you were the first. you were my first love and it took me far too long to see it. i should've told you. i should've gotten you#help. they were hurting you and i tried to do the right thing but you chose them over me. that's what hurts the most honestly.#that after everything i still wasn't enough.#i want to talk to someone anyone tell them what they did to you to me but everyone fucking loves th#loves them. and i don't want to ruin someone elses friendship over my wounds.#i had to leave. i couldn't stand to see them happy anymore. it hurt too much. my therapist said it wasn't healthy to be there anymore#i've been feeling it awhile. it's been a year but this wound in my chest won't heal while they're pushing a knife into it. i had to leave.#i'm just so tired of thinking about this over and over. i want to move on.#vent#tw vent#delete later
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bladeofthestars · 1 year
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anantaru · 2 months
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Hi Yoru
Fontain characters that surprised they can get hard again after second round?
including. wriothesley, neuvillette
synopsis. getting hard again after cumming twice
a/n. this might be unrealistic getting hard without an aphrodisiac or something after already cumming twice but these men aren't real so woohoo!!!!!
cw. very filthy, lots of cum lmao, they have bottomless endurance your honor, insatiable men!!!!!!, dirty talk, cumming inside, fem! reader
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— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱
erratic fingers spiraling through disheveled silk, perspiration on your skin, your back arched like a bow, all presenting a delirious state.
after the second time wriothesley emptied himself in you, your thighs glistened of dried cum, little beads of his gift glowing like blazed selenite around your pussy and legs while his cock rests on top of your stomach, twitching and spent, or that is what you originally thought.
you two are insatiable, the honeymoon phase just never seems to disappear. your souls and kisses attempting to chase heaven that was only possible with the help of your bodies becoming one.
the need— that deep craving, it's always concealed in your smile when you want another round from wriothesley to push his cock all the way inside your velvety, clenching walls, your hums following an innocent tune of, "you're not tired yet, or are you baby? hm, you must be getting old," you jest, fiery gaze beneath your lashes.
to which, he'd reply with, "yeah, old and tired, don't you see?" he points to his palm slowly fisting his semi-erected length, hard, "as you are now sweetheart, still bratty and full of energy, i cannot leave you in that state, can i?"
your minds were too dazed by fucking and drooling all over each other, your perspiration oozing down your sticky flesh, your bodies too unstoppable.
you pout shyly at him, igniting a lust inside of his heart, "no, you cannot, i'm glad you say that," as you sneakily wiggle your hips up to make his fat tip rub into your weeping folds.
wriothesley's jaw couldn't help but fall at the way you were so blunt about it, it was fucking sexy, everything about you was so sexy.
when you're showing him how much you wanted this, wanted him.
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— ꒰ NEUVILLETTE ꒱
your skin is blistering like coals when you look down to your core, your eyes darting right there as neuvillette pulls his cock from your hole, and with that, the complete mess he's left to stick on your weeping walls.
gazing and marveling at how he framed your delicate figure with his unbeatable marks wasn't new to you— in your undivided truth, the iudex was the most handsome, most graceful when his skin was bounteous of spit, arousal and sex, candid pheromones ghosting in the air and enhancing the sultry scenery to your eyes.
every time he took off his garments and exposed his porcelain skin, your jaw couldn't help but go slacked, and when he bounces your body on his cock, you need to make him go harder. despite the quivering on your thighs and legs, you do not want him to stop pumping his load in you— not even after the second time.
doe-eyed, neuvillette leisurely rubs his cock in between your creamy folds with an audible groan, fuck, it felt so good, and there was a mysterious enchantment webbed in his muscular abdomen when he leans down to your body, his biceps flexing when he fucks his palm, his velvety tip tapping against your stretched-out hole whenever he grinds his hips into the small tunnel of his hand.
it wasn't long until neuvillette was entirely hard again, his pain-stricken erection throbbing in his hand but wishing to twitch in your wet walls instead. for the far greater pleasure, you swathe his hand away before replacing it with your own, gliding your delicate trace alone the length of his cock, skilled enough to coax a broken shudder from the body that leaned back into you for support.
"forgive me, dear," neuvillette sighs out in defeat, his heart stuttering, "feeling you.... like this, always leaves me stranded with a hunger i cannot quench," the last thing he wanted was to drive you up against the walls or something— neuvillette wanted you to rest, the man found it embarrassing to get hard again despite you allowing him to spill himself in you twice already.
if only he knew that you couldn't get enough of him either.
his dripping length pressed in between your palm made his body react to you automatically, and you fist him harder before making him shrivel in anticipation, "it's okay, you see? let me help you out," your voice provides him with a certain hotness that swallows his body whole, which in fact, the warmth begins to travel from his neck down to the entirety of his spine.
you line his cock up with your slicked hole before finally popping his fat tip through the tight entrance as he drools at the feeling, like it's the first time he's felt you tonight— when in reality, your dried up arousal and his thick cum covering the majority of your flesh would beg to differ.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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readychilledwine · 2 months
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Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.
( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)
Here Without You
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Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.
Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating
A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.
*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*
💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙
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You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.
Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.
You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.
The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.
Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.
You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.
You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.
You were alone.
And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.
The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-
You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.
This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.
Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"
You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."
Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.
You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.
It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.
"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"
You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."
Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.
"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"
"Lucien and Tamlin."
Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"
"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."
He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.
Your bed had never felt so soft.
Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.
His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.
Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.
But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.
Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.
But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.
The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.
The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.
The look of a father mourning lost time.
Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.
"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"
Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."
Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.
If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-
The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."
An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"
Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."
Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"
"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"
Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."
Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."
Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.
Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.
Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."
Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"
"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."
Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.
"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."
Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.
He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.
You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.
He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."
You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.
Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."
He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."
"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"
Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."
He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."
"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.
It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."
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@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.
My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.
General Taglist:
@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium
Azriel Taglist:
@elle4404
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silent-stories · 1 year
Text
𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘
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Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: Wayne didn't trust you, until one night.
Warnings: angst, fluff, nightmares
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Wayne Munson just wanted to protect his boy. And that's why he was so reluctant towards you.
It wasn't that he didn't like you, it was that he didn't trust you: after all the years Eddie had spent almost alone in school, you came in the picture. You, saying you cared about him, saying you were interested in the music he listened to and the books he read, saying you loved him.
It all seemed too perfect and Wayne just knew there was something wrong.
Not because he was a bad person, Wayne absolutely wasn't, but because he was afraid you were playing with Eddie's feelings. He was afraid that one day you'd laugh in his face and tell him there was no way a girl like you could ever love someone like him. An outcast. A cult-leader. A freak.
The worst part was that Eddie, on the other hand, was really in love with you. He could see it by the way he talked about you when you weren't around, by his loving gaze when you visited him at the trailer, by the smile that appeared on his lips whenever he mentioned you in a conversation.
Wayne was afraid Eddie would suffer when you left him.
Because he knew you would. It was just a matter of time.
After what had happened in the upside down, after Eddie had almost died (because yes, he knew the whole truth even if he had a hard time believing it at first) he often woke up due to nightmares.
Often he heard the bed creak as if Eddie was tossing and turning in pain, sometimes he heard him talking but never understood what exactly he was saying. He was probably calling your name, the name of girl he was in love with, poor naive boy.
Once, he opened the door to his room slightly, slowly and asked if everything was all right, watching the figure curled up on the bed, his legs drawn up to his chest in a defensive position.
Even in the dark he could clearly see that Eddie was shaking.
It was pretty obvious that no, he wasn't all right. He was far from it.
Eddie told him to go away, that he was fine. Wayne pressed for a while but Eddie didn't seem to want to talk to him. Finally he closed the door and went back to his room, hoping that giving him the space he wanted would help.
He wasn't sure if it had really helped him when he started hearing muffled sobs coming from his room.
He really didn't know what to do. Eddie should have talked to someone about it, vented in some way but he didn't seem to want to do it with him.
He didn't seem to want to talk about it even with you, his "girlfriend". Wayne had expected this too: You wouldn't be there for his boy when he needed it.
After that night, Eddie had locked the door to his room, so even if Wayne wanted to go inside to check, he couldn't.
One night though, Wayne woke up to a noise coming from the room next to his, from Eddie's room.
He sighed running a hand over his face, tired, knowing he was going to have another sleepless night and that Eddie would too.
Thar time though, he heard the door to Eddie's bedroom open and the sound of bare feet making their way down the hallway where the phone was hanging on the wall.
What the hell was he doing?
Wayne got out of bed and headed for the door to his room but, when he was about to open it, he heard Eddie's voice on the other side of the door and stopped.
He knew eavesdropping was wrong, but that didn't stop him.
"Hey, sweetheart."
Wayne realized Eddie called you. At two in the morning.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Eddie whispered, almost as that was all the voice he could get out at the moment.
"Yeah, don't worry. I just... I think I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm sorry, I'm sure I woke you up. Yeah, I told you I'm fine." Eddie muttered, if his words were to sound convincing, he was failing miserably.
He sounded like a kid scared by a thunderstorm, in moments like that Wayne wished Eddie's mom was still there with him, some things really would've been easier.
“No, that's stupid, I shouldn't even have called, you probably just want to sleep and not worry about my dumb problems. It's just…I'm tired, Y/N. I'm so tired and the nightmares won't stop and I… I don't know what to do. Every time, every night I'm there again and there are the bats and the lightning and- and It's hard to sleep without you. I'm scared Y/N. I'm scared they'll never stop, that I'll never be okay." Eddie sniffed.
Was he crying?
"But it's okay. I mean, yeah, I- don't worry and-" he probably stopped to hear what you were saying.
Were you telling him to go fuck himself for calling in the middle of the night? Were you trying to console him? Wayne couldn't know but either way, he didn't trust you. He had never done that.
"No. You don't have to. No, Y/N, no please, really, I-" Eddie stammered before silence fell on the other side of the door.
You hung up the phone. You hung up the phone on Eddie's face when he needed someone to listen to him and when he trusted you enough to call you and talk about how he was feeling.
Wayne knew it would end like this. You never loved Eddie like you said you did, you didn't even care about him or you wouldn't have hung up the phone. Maybe it was a joke all along, "make the freak your boyfriend, make him fall in love and trust you and then leave him when he needs it most and break his heart."
He knew how mean teenagers could be, they always managed to hit where it hurt the most. And, of course that's what you did with Eddie, you played with his heart that had already been broken too many times for someone so young.
He heard Eddie pacing nervously down the short hallway a couple of times, and just as Wayne was about to walk out of the room despite having no idea what to say, he heard the trailer door open and close.
Eddie went out. And Wayne wasn't going to let him spend the night in the cold or whatever that boy was up to.
The older Munson finally came out of his room and made his way to the door Eddie had disappeared through.
He opened it slightly and looked out, finding himself faced with the most unexpected scene he had imagined.
There you were, your car parked in front of the trailer, the door still open, and you were striding towards Eddie.
The sky was dark and moonless, only a few stars were visible, a nearby street lamp allowed the man to see what was happening.
Wayne leaned against the door frame, watching the scene a few feet away from him.
As soon as you reached Eddie you wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed him towards you, he immediately wrapped his arms around your body in a hug Wayne wondered if it could actually break any bones.
Eddie held on to you as if his life depended on it, squeezing the fabric of your shirt with his hands and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as he hugged you, as if having you there in that moment solved all his problems, as if Eddie was okay again just because of your presence.
"I'm here. It's okay, I got you." You said holding him, your voice soft and sincere.
That was the moment Wayne realized he was completely wrong about you, all along.
"You didn't have to come." Eddie whispered, not letting you go.
"But I wanted to." You responded by stepping away from him slightly, cupping his face with your hands and running your thumbs on his cheeks.
"I swear, you are something else." Eddie said with a slight smile. "Thank you for coming, really."
And Wayne, seeing you looking at Eddie as if he was the most precious thing in the world, wondered what had been on his mind every time he doubted your sincerity, every time he thought you didn't really care about Eddie.
You went there in the middle of the night because you knew he needed it, and he didn't even ask you. That was all it took to know that you were a good person. That you were there for his boy.
"I love you." He murmured before bringing his lips to yours in a light but affectionate kiss. Wayne had to look down, feeling he was slipping into a too intimate a moment.
"I love you too." You responded leaning your forehead against his. "And I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, you know that."
"Do you- think you can stay the night? I understand if you can't- if you don't want to- I mean-"
"Eddie, I've come to stay. I wouldn't leave even if you begged me, right now." You reassured him.
He nodded, leaving a kiss on top of your head. "I love you so much."
You smiled grabbing his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers ready to reenter the trailer.
Your eyes met Wayne's still in the doorway.
Eddie's hand squeezed yours tighter as you reached for him.
"She's spending the night here whether you like it or not." Eddie announced to his uncle.
Wayne looked between you and Eddie, then back to you as you started to talk.
"I'm sorry I showed up here in the middle of the night but I can't leave now, I-"
"I'm sorry I didn't trust you." He finally admitted.
A surprised expression came onto your face.
"I was wrong about you, I was wrong from the start." He said leading you into the trailer.
Eddie smiled at his uncle's words.
"It's okay, I understand where all your resilience came from. Really, don't worry about it." You answered with conviction.
Wayne patted your shoulder. "You are a good kid, thank you for being here."
You smiled again. "You don't have to thank me. None of you have to."
Eddie put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, up against his Metallica shirt he used to sleep in.
"We're going to sleep, uncle Wayne." Eddie said before heading to his room, dragging you with him.
You turned one last time to Wayne before disappearing behind Eddie's bedroom door. "Good night."
The man's gaze softened even more. "Goodnight kids."
Eddie was in good hands now, he always had been even when Wayne didn't know it.
You were always there, even when Wayne didn't know it. You were family.
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Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7
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sunsetsimon · 6 months
Text
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
mentions of ptsd, abuse, torture, touch aversion, nightmares
always remember, you are loved and cared for. reach out if you need help, i am always here to provide resources. you are not alone, do not go through this alone.
─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────
☼ jealousy. it wasn't a feeling that simon felt often, and not in the ways most people experienced it, he could care less about any materialistic items. his jealousy would stir in his stomach when he saw people doing to them - normal things. a hug goodbye, holding hands, it was all foreign to him.
he's used to a playful punch from soap or a pat on the shoulder from price, but he never initiates. when you first get together, he's uncomfortable with physical affection and will often unintentionally shut you down. your hand will reach for his but he doesn't move, not even noticing you attempting to touch him. he won't hug you before he leaves, only giving a nod and heading out.
he knows it hurts you but it's hard.
slowly he works on it, giving a loving squeeze and reaching for your hand, but it's a long process before it becomes an unconscious habit.
☼ simon doesn't sleep much to begin with, but when it gets bad, he starts to have nightmares almost every night. they're intense, seeming to last forever, as if he'd lived days in the dream. his sleepy mumbling will turn into physical reactions, his body starting to twitch, fists clenching so hard his knuckles turn white. gasping awake he shoots up, his hand immediately on his gun and ready for combat. he's sweaty, heart beating so fast it seemed like it'd jump out of his chest.
"you okay, si?" you whisper from beside him, snapping him back to reality. simon takes a deep breath, setting his pistol back down on the nightstand, unable to speak. immediately you recognize it was another nightmare, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his back. his head drops into his hands, needing to take time to relearn what his reality is; he's home, he's with you.
but fuck, why doesn't it feel that way then? why is he haunted every time he closes his eyes?
"'m so tired," he mumbles, fighting back tears of frustration and pain, trying not to question what he did to deserve this hell he calls his own mind.
"i know si... i wish i could take it all away," you attempt to comfort him, but know that nothing you do could help him right now, he just needs time. he gives your arm a pat before standing up, leaving to take time for himself. you hear his footsteps trail down the stairs and a door open, simon deciding to retreat to the garage for the next few hours until he feels okay again.
☼ he wouldn’t ever tell you what actually happened to him, just making vague comments here and there when the opportunity arises. he's scared to talk about it, not wanting to remember anything or try to process it.
your soft fingers trail along the pale scars littered across his skin, wondering what must've happened to him, all the pain he's been through. you stop at a small one on his left wrist, "how'd you get this one?"
"my dad was a piece of shit," and he leaves it at that. you don't push any further, accepting the curt answer with a nod. you softly kiss the scar, beautiful eyes flickering to his. it's things like this that slowly heal him, and instead of thinking of the pain that came with each scar, he thinks of your lips kissing each one as if that'd make it all better. you make it all better.
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beiasluv · 7 months
Text
forbidden fruit pt.2 | charles leclerc
part 1
a/n: i wrote last part at like midnight, apologies for any typos 💀 enjoyy 🤍
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‘y/n l/n and charles leclerc. forbidden love, rival or lovers?’
front line mercedes driver, l/n, and the ferrari driver, leclerc, had been seen having a conversation together before the grand prix in italy…
“y/n, question for you please.”
the conference room. same old same old. lewis, you, and george were seated together in front of thousands of lenses, ready to pick each and every length of your skin just to get a piece of information they could sell to the media.
it was the day before the big race in italy, the media was catching their eyes closely at all the drivers - especially you know which two.
“..yes?”
“about the incident after the qualifying round, what had happened with charles?”
the clicking of the pens and the scratching of the notebooks were starting to get you any minute. clearing your throat you grabbed the mic closer to your mouth,
“i’m sure charles meant no harm..we’re racers..erm…rivalry isn’t the furthest thing from us.”
“are you dating charles, y/n?”
alarms were set off in your mind. it would be a crime if george and lewis couldn’t hear them. you were nothing with charles leclerc. he’s the reddest flag of all. really. you were nothing.
"we," clearing your throat and grabbing your mic closer to your dry lips. "we're not talking on any terms."
smile, y/n. smile for the cameras.
"what are your thoughts on the ferrari team this season? any comments?"
the journalist raised his hands through the crowd, his pen almost fell off his lap from the enthusiasm.
"it was always a challenge to race with any team on the track, ferrari included," you nodded. "the ferrari has a strong car, they are one of the many tough contenders. obviously, every team wishes to win...and so does mercedes," glancing a tight smile at the interviewer who took the answer down the notebook. perhaps a little bit too messy for your driver's head to decipher.
"how about when leclerc saved you? any additional comment?"
"i.."
you caught lewis shifting in his seat; his hands started to calm up together in front of the mic, seated between the three drivers and the whole internet. you could only pray your zoning out was missed by the media and you know who.
if only you could express your infinite pain of being the only female in the male-dominant sport, no paper could ever hold just a nick of the feminine rage pregnant inside you.
how come the only question you got asked was about 'charles,' 'men,' 'dating' and never the sophisticated 'performance car racing' or the ones filled with personalities?
george russell, for the record, your biggest shipper, even chipped in. he pushed the mic closer to his face and looked dead into the camera - if looks could kill - "please, this is a mercedes drivers' briefing."
the tension is sky-high, or you could say: rocket-sky-high. george settled back in his seat as you threw him a quick thankful smile. only god knows what the media is going to make up this time.
'george to the rescue'? bullshit.
"lewis, over here please."
--
"y/n, leclerc's getting aggressive. be careful for an overtake-"
"copy-"
the adrenaline is rushing, flowing, and doing whatever the heck it can in your bloodstream. pushing the pedal as hard as your baby could possibly could, the wind rushed against your face. if it wasn't for the helmet you had on, your face would've been cut like it were a thousand knives thrown at you.
looking to your right you see the infamous red ferrari again, surging with the wind and springing out against the green grass beside the track.
"leave space! you fucking-" you muttered as your fingers tick all the necessary buttons of the formula 1 car in order to keep your position above the ferrari. "what the fuck is he doing!"
praying the car tires could take a bit more, you applied as much pressure you felt comfortable on your baby for the first place behind the checkered end line. you glanced at the body behind the mask of the helmet as you continued to push and pray, push and pray.
if only you knew the ferrari was reciprocating the act.
what was important was you finishing above leclerc - mercedes finishing above ferrari, of course.
"leclerc! y/n! leclerc! who's going to win?! would he complete the overtake?!"
holding on to your steering wheel for your dear life, you saw something of a maroon color rushing to your side. perhaps it was the speed of the car that distorted your vision or was it something in your cheeks?
shut up-
"leclerc! leclerc! leclerc! ferrari have gained another victory home! ladies and gentlemen, charles leclerc!"
"fuck!"
the cracking sound from your radio chimed in your ears - at the worst time possible - "y/n! 0.02 second behind leclerc! P2!"
yeah, thanks. thanks for rubbing it in your face that leclerc had beaten you once again.
"..thanks," slowing your car down against the wind, you came to a halt after the race line; obviously at a considerable distance behind the red ferrari. climbing out and plastering on a fake smile for the media and your beloved fans.
--
the monégasques national anthem was blasted through the speaker throughout the whole podium. any fan knew this song belonged to any of the leclerc and ferrari, for now.
holding your hands in the comfort of in front of you, you tried to remain calm throughout the whole song. nevertheless, your heartbeat was beating fast for the obvious reason after the race.
the shit-eating grin was plastered on the driver standing on P1. can you even blame him? congratulations, you had beaten your rival for the longest time and were placed on P1 while wearing your infamous red suit.
while you were wearing your notorious mercedes's fire suit on your waist, just like all the drivers on the grid (and charles), you grabbed the champagne bottle as the others did so.
"good one, leclerc.”
you sprayed the champagne straight onto the monégasques’s back, maybe it was a little intentional that you shook the bottle a little harder for more pressure of the liquor.
no hard feelings, of course. you only knew his hair was soaked under the cap on his head and the tingling of the bubbles down his neck.
how unfortunate.
charles smirked back as he aimed his half-empty champagne bottle at you, "it's still not a date."
what.?
seeing you in your stunned state, he lowered the bottle to an acceptable level. leclerc cleared his throat and wiped the foam of champagne off his upper lips and chin; looking back with the biggest annoying grin on his face, "congrats on the podium. next race?"
oh, how you wish you could smack his grin off his mother fucking face again. rubbing it into your face.
the media..the media. breathe in, breathe out.
"will do, 16."
--
"congratulations on P2,"
toto patted your back as he entered the mercedes's headquarters. how lovely it is to see his drivers bundled up in his room, once again, after a race 'gone wrong.'
"what is it this time," he sighed as he lowered himself to his chair, not ready to be resigning the team principal position for a therapist for his driver.
the room was your comfort zone, safe to say. the picture of toto's kid, susie, and all of his essentials to complete the job for a team principal. crashing into his room with george wasn't an abnormal thing in your team, nor was it the first time of your career with him.
"they kept asking if you're dating charles, huh?" toto grinned as he faked wipe his mouth for the dramatic effect.
"i'm sick of it-"
the environment of the room shifted - for the better, surprisingly. also. did you mention the fact that this room felt more like a therapy session than a team principal's room?
and. wikipedia got it wrong, it was: toto wolff, team principal and CEO of mercedes, and a part-time therapist.
perfect.
"i'm sure we've put on a great fight," toto nodded towards you, the unspoken tension of the media was killing you inside out.
"i'm sick of the media, toto-"
george shifted next to you on the black sofa, "who knows, they're just trying to write a story out of nothing."
"it'll be the death of me if I have to continuously declare my love life on the internet," resting your head back on the back of the couch you did.
the coldness in the room was cleared by a bit as george snaked his arm around the back of the couch, he whispered into your ear, "you don't have a thing for charles..do you?"
"i hate you."
--
"night, toto. night, george."
bidding toto and george goodbyes, you grabbed your bag from the floor and beeline for the exit door.
the hotel bed is calling your name like a mantra at this point. the race was mentally and physically exhausting, what could be better than a nice, warm bath and a soft bed waiting for you?
the sky was pitch black, darker than your deepest thoughts in solitary, but the pitch was never dark. thanks to the eyes-scorching light to illuminate the track during the night races.
“sup lando..sup daniel”
“good race, l/n.”
walking past a couple of drivers, quick and friendly nods were exchanged as you head for the garage for your beloved mercedes.
and for the love of god, the eyes of the ferrari next to your mercedes were ignited.
how could this get even better?
making your way into the garage, you tried to be as quiet as you possibly could. digging in your purse for the key was a painful ride to ride.
'ah, found it.'
your fingertip dug into the muscle memory as you press the button you hoped was coded with 'unlock.'
fuck.
how gracious of mercedes to make the unlocking sound so loud. so loud that it caught the attention of the ferrari driver. so loud that leclerc's neck flicked towards the sound of your car and you swore you could feel his grin growing.
the second slowed down by a quarter as you seized the handle for the door and swung your bag and body inside the car. perhaps it was not fast enough for the P1 winner today as he made his way next to your car before you could even shut the door. ignoring his steps as he teasingly walked over to his ferrari and played with the key in his hand.
"you put up a great fight for the first place," he grinned. "next time.." he opened his ferrari,
“eyes on the track, l/n.”
"how-...don't you worry about it, leclerc," you scoffed, hiding the beating of your heart. fucking hell- stop beating so fast-
raising his eyebrows in one quick, swift motion, he entered his ferrari, "of course." the driver was fully engulfed by the shadows of the vertical door, but his eyes were still looking into yours, "nice drive today."
"you too."
--
your phone screen screamed it was 2 in the morning, but who cares? the tiktok on your phone was a little more entertaining than seeing charles off the track - okay, maybe a lot less - but the thing so addicting about tiktok was a life mystery for you.
curling up to your side, your phone was plugged into the wall next to your bed, your hand starting to get numb from holding your phone for too long.
asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. asmr. f1 edit. you were going to go mad. for the love of anyone, if you see one more edit of charles leclerc on your fyp, you are going to throw your phone out-
honestly, you wouldn't lie that you enjoy an edit of yours once in a while, but hell, charles leclerc..fucking leclerc...who told him that he can look so fucking fine after a horrible race from the ferrari?
you were almost tempted to slam your phone on the nightstand and get some sleep for the night. also. who cares if you wake up late tomorrow?
knock..knock
"oh, come on," you cursed. the audacity to knock at 2 in the morning?
you swung yourself off the comfort of your hotel bed and tiptoed towards the door of your room. your pajama short and oversized t did not help with providing the necessary warmth.
peaking through the cat-eye, you saw the last thing you were expecting.
charles leclerc, in the flesh. he was leaning one of his arms on your door as he was about to raise his hand for another knock.
"gasly! open the door-"
"have a problem, leclerc?"
gosh, you wished you could take a pic of how terrified he looked. shit. was he looking at the unbearable state of yours, or what? short shorts, oversized t, and your hair-
"y/n- i'm-"
squinting your eyes, you adjusted to the light of the hallway, "gasly's not here."
silence engulfed the air between you like a buffet. he continued to stare blankly at you. gosh- could he stop with his dark, green, eyes- fuck. "…leclerc?"
was it the tension or your ears going deaf - you weren't sure - that made you couldn't even hear his - probably lame - excuse of why he knocked at your door at 2 in the fucking morning.
what did matter was the blabbering of his mouth traveled through one ear and straight to the other, just like an f1 car, speeding on any straight path-
"-i think i'm fucking in love with you"
"charles...don't."
charles stopped - his breathing, his steps, his brain, and whatever he could be conscious of. you started - started leaning onto the door, started clutching the other hand to the door blocking the other half of your heart from his.
"what d'you mean 'don't'?" leclerc's mouth was gaped, letting the least amount of air in to keep his heart beating - for you.
retracting your hand, and the door, away from him; you still found his hand in the comfort of over yours, the one that you held onto the door to not fall onto the wooden floor of your hotel room.
every breath you took was a sharp nick on your lungs, but you've managed to heaped out, "i'm sorry, charles-" just in time before your lungs would betray you.
"why?...why?...please-"
"why? -really? why?"
finally regaining the willpower to look back at him, and not cry, you were greeted with his reddened eyes, "what the fuck do you want with me-?"
"you- you could go around and tell me all these nice things in front of my face and- and god knows what you've been calling me behind my back-"
his grip on your hands tightened as he opened his mouth again, but you cut him short- "it drives me crazy- fucking crazy that you act all so nice to me when we've fought our whole lives against each other."
"...what ever happened to all of your loathing glares when i'm on the podium?"
who cares what the sleeping people, ghosts, or whoever the fuck on this floor hears. you were done with cradling your heart as far away as you could from the pitch. it was stupid. fucking humiliating, at least, that you've found yourself back - back at the start.
all the effort to fight for your place on the grid as the only female driver and all of your effort to carry your dignity above all the scandals came crashing down just for a second of your selfish desires. was it so bad to want love from someone who really cares for you all your life?
dancing, kissing, crying, loving. was it so hard to deny when it is literally in front of your fucking face? under the reddest flag of all.
you wished and prayed every day that the races would be over soon so you could stop seeing his shit-eating grin, his eyes, his remarks, his cologne filling the air whenever he walked past.
charles stood in silence, unmoving, as if the time had stopped. if only you knew he was trying- trying to find the right word to express this weird sensation in his brain, his chest, his fucking heart. they all just ended up tangled in italian, frech, and english. mon amour. my life-
"..is that how you really think of me-" he felt slightly betrayed by his wrong tone, but even more by your thoughts.
"you think- y/n- you think i'm just trying to tick you off the podium?"
"..are you?" wiping the tears that betrayed you and escaped from the comfort of your eyes. "look- look at all the headlines- 'mercedes and ferrari.' is this really the- the condition you want to love under?"
"i'll love you under any condition i want," he breathed shakily as he continued to hold the door of your room open. who cares about the ruffled sheet you left or your phone uncharged by the bed?
"there's nothing between us-"
"you have a girlfriend for fuck's sake!"
"it's a PR relationship! and who cares what the media thinks? i'm not doing ferrari any good by confessing my heart raw to you-"
"you think mercedes is getting anything out of this but rumors? i've fought the press for all my fucking life from the scandals inside the pit-"
"this isn't about mercedes, and this isn't about the goddamn media-”
charles ran his hand through his messed up hair, "and I would have thought you knew that..."
"maybe- maybe i don't. maybe i'm too scared to love again. maybe i'm too scared of what would happen if we ended on a bad note. maybe i'm a coward for not wanting to open my heart for you.
-maybe i'm stupid...for you"
"you're not stupid," he said- decreasing the gap between you two, trying his hardest not to reach to wipe your tears.
"we won't work out," you sighed. "we'll focus on our drives, we'll fight, you'll leave."
"please," charles grabbed your waist and pulled you in, once again - you gave in. "i'll make it work."
all your walls came crumbling down as you broke down like a dam on his shoulder. you buried your face onto his chest and gripped his shirt until you didn't care it would crease. a mantra of apologies came out of charles's mouth that you wouldn't even waste an energy to decipher.
his hands found their natural comfort in your lower back, rubbing in lines of traces and tracks you'd spend the rest of your life trying to decipher.
tucking a piece of your hair behind, he kissed all of your tears away. his mustache which had grown since the karting days grazed your skin like they were made for each other. his cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling too much like an idiot in front of your hotel room..106.
you were still gripping his shirt hard, as he closed the space between your lips and his. it seemed like all of your walls were crushed to the point of no returning; towering over you, he pressed his body against yours like there was no more- like the last lap of the race.
the level of oxygen in your lungs was starting to set off an alarm in your head, but you didn't care. you were kissing the reddest flag of all in the grid and you were not regretting anything.
pulling away for air, he smiled against your lips; sending a wave of breath onto your chin.
"you have a lot to explain to toto."
"i'll have my ways..."
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oh my goodnesss. if you like it, please do whatever you want to, I’ll appreciate it 🫶🏻
today’s a great day to take care of yourself, luvv 🤍
tag: @leclerclvr @buendiabebeta @be-your-coffee-pot @al-luvx
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The Morning After
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Summary: Reader and Spencer are waking up after a big fight the night before.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Angst, Comfort
Content warnings: Relationship troubles
Word count: 1k
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You woke up not convinced you had slept. Your eyelids sticking together and sore from the stark morning light must indicate otherwise, right? It stings no matter how often you blink. It’s a similar sting to chlorine and your body clears it out. But no matter how many times you blink, the pain remains.
Normally, Spencer’s hogging the bed, his arms pressed against your back like he was in a casket but sideways while you grip the edge and hope you don’t meet the floor with your nose. Stretching your arm out to feel the other side feels unnatural. No hand ready to grab you and smack your knuckles with a kiss. No grinding teeth that you’ve told him is a sign of stress and he should get checked out.
This all felt worse. Even though Spencer was just in the living room, he still felt too far away. But what’s the right way to deal with that? How does one bounce back from such a brutal night?
Well, you don’t bounce back. You take it slow. You pick yourself up from the pillows, your body aching like a hangover. Sitting upright did not help your headache; the pain between your eyes is strong, recovering from scrunching so violently in the midst of sobbing and yelling. You’re both lucky the neighbors didn’t call the cops.
You sway around the bed, left to right like a stiff pendulum. In the doorway, you see your boyfriend. His hair is a moppy mess. He's got a fresh dark roast in his hands, and it takes all his concentration to bring it to his lips. It’s almost precious if you didn’t remember you’re partially responsible for putting him in that state. You watch him sip slowly, the heat hits his skin and he remains unfazed. He pulls it away.
“Morning.” You croak out. You push yourself out of the doorway as you wrap yourself tight in your robe.
His face turns to you as he considers another sip. “Morning.” He puts his cup on the end table. “There’s… uh there’s plenty more. If you want any.”
You nod, crossing your arms close to your chest. Even though you don’t waste time grabbing the hot pot and plenty of creamer, your mind concentrates on the feeling of eyes pressing into your back. The sound of the leather shifting with his weight, maybe he was watching to make sure you weren’t walking out (like you may or may not have threatened to do last night). When you turn around though, he does too, he knows you saw it.
Because you know what to do.
You walk to the couch, taking the side opposite as you take two gulps of your beverage, ignoring the semi-sweet liquid’s heat. You settle in with your cup close by while Spencer occupies himself with his own hands like he’s been called to the principal’s office.
“Do you… want to talk about it?”
A third sip. “Yeah, probably best.” You eventually put your cup down after another eager drink. Your magazines were arranged on the table in front of you, labeled by issue. And not just that, but the books that were once sprawled on the floor were put back neatly on the shelves, in their intended alphabetical order. You pause at the sight. “You… wait, you cleaned up last night?”
Spencer coughed to pretend he wasn't so tired, saying "Yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured, you know, why not?” He equipped the rhetorical question with a shrug.
You rub your face. It all hurts. “I didn’t mean to back into the shelf. I hope you know that.”
“I know.”
“Good, okay.” The silence is thick. Expected, but still daunting. The chest pain that comes with holding your breath so sternly is not something you thought of before. And you wish it would go away. So you start it. “Do you want to go first, or would —”
“I’m sorry.” Spencer interrupts.
“Huh?”
“I’m really sorry. What I said, it was out of line.”
You sigh. The relief of it all (or part of it, the rest will come in time) pours out with one exhale. Your lungs still feel the ache, but again, in due time. “Me too. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have retaliated the way I did.”
Spencer’s lips pull into a smile as his head falls back. “Okay. Good.” He swallowed. “Good.”
You don’t waste time taking up space between you. Your knees touch as you reach out to brush his cheekbones with your knuckles. You move further up and rub the redness around his eyes. They match yours. So you know the area is sensitive. Spencer, however, looks up at the ceiling as you touch it. Soon though, he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the skin. “Not as sloppy as I usually am."
“It’s okay.” Your grip tightens in his. “I think we both need to rehydrate.”
“And sleep more,” Spencer said.
“That sounds nice.” You slip out of Spencer’s hold and comb his hair back with your fingers, clearing them from his face. “Want to go back to bed?”
Spencer’s face scrunches and readjusts in his seat, rubbing his shoulder blade against the couch’s back. “I don’t think I can. It’s not easy to turn comfortably here.”
“You don't have to sleep on the couch.”
Spencer looked back at you. “Really? You sure?”
“You deserve a decent sleep in your own bed.”
Before Spencer has a chance to protest, you’ve picked yourself up from the couch and started pulling him up by the wrists. Despite his weary state, he followed you and stood up himself. You tugged his arm to the bedroom, to the sweet relief of a mattress, pillows, and potential cuddles. Spencer however tugs back, and he brings you into a soft hug. His head on your shoulder, his arms linking together to cage you into the warmth of his body. You gladly (and sleepily) follow by putting your arms around his neck. And you stay there. For a while.
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mncxbe · 1 month
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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭...
ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: nsfw, age gap implied, subby men~ they cry a bit, overstimulation, wish that was me
Men who live for those few hours between work and sleep that they get to spend with you. Their job is awfully stressful– just problems after problems and incompetent underlings they need to deal with every day. There's too much responsibility, too much pressure and weight on their shoulders, but you're always there to take it away.
Men who don't even bother with pleasantries before loosening their tie and grumbling about how tiring work is. When they slump on the cushy mattress in your bedroom you're right beside them, helping them take off their clothes while you listen to them vent about their day. "Don't worry, dear, I got you" you reassure them in that soothing voice of yours and they can already feel their frustrations melting away.
Men who let you take the lead, willingly submitting to you because they're so tired of always having to be in charge and ordering people around. It's a nice change of pace– them laying limp between the crisp sheets while you rock your hips against theirs, their cock nestled deep inside your sweet cunt. In moments like these, they finally allow themselves to slip off the mask they're forced to wear every day and just be.
Men whose minds go blank when you praise them for their work. Just knowing that you appreciate and value what they do, that you acknowledge their worries makes the knot in the pit of their stomach thighten. It doesn't take long for them to grip your hips and squirm under your weight, their breath coming out quicker, shallower as gruff moans fall from their lips. When they cum their whole body tenses up, milky white seed spilling deep inside you. "You're so good for me tonight, darling. Think you can take more?" you ask and of course they can. They're good for you, always.
Men who lose all their composure after you coax a few more orgasms out of them. They can barely keep their gaze locked on yours from that sweet mixture of pleasure of pain making their head spin– it hurts, they feel like they can't physically take it anymore, but they don't have the heart to stop you. After all, this is their only escape from those straining jobs and duties and if relishing this sheer bliss meant being so vulnerable and completely at your mercy they'd gladly do it.
Men who don't bother to hide the pretty tears brimming at the corner of their eyes and choke on heavy sobs as you keep riding them. "Poor you..." you coo, brushing away the tears with your fingertips, your touch soft as silk against their rougher skin "You really needed this didn't you darling?" They nod eagerly, hissing sharply when you start bouncing on their cock again– they can feel each drag of your gummy walls against his cock and it's driving them crazy. Frankly, the fact that they're still hard after cumming so many times is a miracle, but you seem adamant to get another orgasm out of them. "Come on, you can do it just one more. Wanna make sure you really fill me up this time, ok?" you urge nonchalantly as if his lap wasn't already covered in sticky cum and slick.
Men who cry out praises and thank yous as they reach their high for the nth time that night, their back slightly arching off the bed before melting back into the mattress. They peer at you through droopy eyes, their grip on your thighs or waist loosening as you lay on their chest with their cock still sheathed inside you. Their heart flutters when you kiss their face oh so softly and lovingly, they feel so warm and welcomed in your embrace and swear they could fall asleep like this every night. But hey, they actually can and do, because you're always there for them, ready to soak them in your love.
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𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺: 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐢, 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐞, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐊𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐚, 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚, 𝐅𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠)
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stargirlo · 2 months
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somber fem!reader
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i just can imagine how much ur boyfie misses you after u two break up :(
he'll go to a seedy bar and drink up until he feels numb on his body, his musky colgone is now replaced with a reeking scent of jack daniels whiskey as he looks completely wasted. holding the whole bottle lazily on his hand before he pours himself another cup of the brown liquid onto the well designed glass cup.
he even babbles about you to the bartender, showing him a picture of yourself that he keeps in his wallet everyday. "you see this- *hic* fine babe? yeah- *hic* i-i lost her two days ago..." he slurred out, eyes dropping low as he looks like he was about to throw up. the only response the bartender could make is either awkwardly chuckling or just saying a small "aw..." because really, he doesn't have the time to have a therapy session with a drunkard.
"s-she like uh-... broke up with me for i don't know what reason, uhmmm- ugh, i miss her s'much..." he whines, acting like he was about to cry. he misses you, he really does. numbing all his pain away from endless amount of shots from the whiskey cup and just slurring out incoherent words that clearly don't make sense. someone comfort this man :(
but as he tips over the barstool, he finally manages to leave the bar and head over his car. murmuring incoherent words and stumbling over the pavement flooring before he finally slams his body against the car door. he struggles a little bit, letting out a strained groan as he sits down at the drivers seat. poor man is tired, and he feels so lonely without your presence beside the passenger seat. you were his passenger princess, and he can't seem to get over you.
he's acting like a total loser right now.
he takes out his wallet again, flipping it open to reveal the picture of you. you were peacefully sleeping on his bed, hair tousled around the plush pillows, and a little puddle of drool seeping into the pillow covers. he chuckles at the picture before it was replaced with silent cries, tears dripping down his cheeks as a few droplets drip down to his jeans. he can't believe he lost you, over god knows what argument you two had both had.
he misses you so much that while he was crying he could feel his cock throbbing against his jeans. he was craving your touch, the way your hand palms his cock and stroke him so deliberately and deliciously with such delicate hands. god he misses it.
so without further ado his cock already sprung free from its confines, one hand holding the wallet while the other worked its way down to stroke his cock. he felt so desperate that he spits on his cock as a use of a lubricant, letting out a throaty groan and string of whispers, talking to himself and praising himself as if you were still there with him. pathetic whimpers fill in the spacious car, the windows slightly fogging up as his vision was already at haze.
all that his mind was clouded of was with images of you.
he still feels empty, even if he's bringing himself close to an orgasm. but he tried, he really tried to think that you're the one stroking his cock instead of he himself. "g-god i... ugh- i miss you s'much baby, holy fuck- please come back..." he murmurs under his breath, jaw clenching as his eyebrows pinch together, letting go of his orgasm. it wasn't particularly the best he could've had but... at least it was something he could do while thinking about you.
but honestly, he just wishes you were there with him. he wishes he could go back in time and fix things properly instead of being put up into this situation. but i guess time will tell, and it's how god had written its story between you and him.
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💌: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento (who would break up with him?), hiromi higuruma, toji fushiguro (hear me out...), dazai osamu, odasaku, chuuya nakahara, manjiro sano, draken, rafe cameron, jj maybank, shinichiro sano, ++ your favs!!
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ellieluvr420 · 2 months
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Friends? Never. Pt.1 (Ellie Williams x reader)
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SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie had been bitter enemies for years now but before that you were best friends. You had always planned to be roommates one day but when that becomes a reality the situation isn't exactly how you both imagined it.
New fic alert? Can you tell I've got a thing for the enemies to lovers trope? Sorryyyyyy. I have loads of ideas for so many stories but this one made me too excited :D I can’t tell if the writing in this is ass but i’m just setting things up hold out hope for me people…
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Ellie opens the door of her new home only to see you, her least favourite person in Jackson, standing at her door with your suitcase in hand.
"No no no no no no no." You say as you immediately start walking away from her. You keep walking until you see Maria walking towards you.
"Don't even start-" She already knows what you're going to say.
"I am not fucking living with her Maria."
"Didn't I tell you not to start? You're wasting your breath anyway, this is the only way we can accommodate all the new arrivals."
"Why do you hate me?" You groan and she spins you around immediately marching you back to your new home.
"I don't, but you and Ellie are a pain in my ass, maybe make the most of it and try and get along hm?" She keeps you held firmly at the front door as she knocks three times.
"Back for more alrea-" Ellie pauses as she sees Maria standing there with a stern look on her face, she pushes you through the door and smiles.
"Enjoy setting up!" She calls over her shoulder and you're sure you hear her laugh.
"Fuck my life." You push past Ellie, bumping her hard enough that she stumbles slightly. You storm off upstairs to find your room huffing at your new reality.
You're unpacking all your belongings when you notice her standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you just gonna keep staring at me like a creep?"
"Are you gay?"
"Pardon?" You scoff at her bluntness but your heart was beating a mile a minute, you knew it wasn't a big deal, she's a lesbian herself, but for some reason you still found coming out to people so difficult. Your parents hadn't taken it well which is how you found yourself living on your own... well, with Ellie. You breathe in and regain your composure, turning to her and flashing a coy smirk. "Why do you want to know Williams? Got a little crush on me?"
"Ha! You wish. Just wondered seeing as you're nineteen and have never once even held a guys hand."
"Didn't realise you paid so much attention to me, should I be worried I have a stalker?" She rolls her eyes at you obviously avoiding her question. "Why does it matter?"
"It doesn't, just trying to figure out if I should be worried about you getting a crush on me and going all crazy."
You walk over to her until there's only inches between you. "You're so arrogant." You bump her in the shoulder and she stumbles as you walk past her towards the kitchen. "You're also not my type... at all." You call over her shoulder missing the look of bewilderment on her face.
"Wait... so you are?" Ellie calls as she follows you to the kitchen. She's close behind you as you march away until you stop dead in your tracks causing her to bump into you.
"If you must know Ellie, yes I am."
"Oh." Ellie felt her heart clench a little for you as she knows how unaccepting your parents are, that's why you stopped being friends all those years ago after all.
You had met Ellie on the first day she arrived in Jackson, she looked tired and a little gaunt but you still felt butterflies in your stomach when you laid eyes on her for the first time. You remember seeing her walk in and hand a gun she kept in the back of her jeans to Maria, you were gobsmacked because she looked the same age as you and you couldn't imagine holding, let alone using, a gun. You had been born in Jackson, only ever leaving to go on patrol in the last couple years so 14 year old you found the girl all the more intriguing. You had watched her from a distance as Joel spoke to your dad, you still remember the feeling of your stomach dropping when she looked up to see you spying on her. You hadn't spoken to her until later that evening when Joel and her had come to yours for dinner. It was awkward at first but when she saw your record player and limited vinyl collection, the ice thawed quickly, you became inseparable until your parents started taking an issue with your friendship with her, you never understood why they stopped you seeing her and stopped seeing Joel until two years ago when you told them you were a lesbian. Ellie had always known that they were homophobic but it still hurt when they stopped you seeing her, she saw red any time she was near you because she was so hurt that you could cut her out of your life just like that and within a couple months you were bitter rivals that couldn't share a nice word with the other. Her hatred for you was so overwhelming that it forced her to stop being so awkward around people because she was so focused on throwing as many insults your way as possible that her nerves when speaking to others dissipated.
Now, as you stand in the kitchen staring at her leaning on the doorframe you felt a pang of guilt for how you had treated her although it quickly disappeared the second she opened her beautiful mouth.
"Well er... you're not my type either so don't get any ideas." You laugh at the awkwardness of her statement knowing why she suddenly lost confidence in herself.
"Thanks for the clarification." You roll your eyes before busying yourself getting a glass of water, it was the middle of summer so all the moving and unpacking was making you feel severely dehydrated. Ellie watched as you gulped down the water, noting how a couple drops fall down onto your white tank top. She dragged her eyes away from you and cleared her throat.
"Well now we've established the feelings mutual we can go back to never speaking again. Or are you going to bother me constantly with small talk?"
"Oh believe me you have nothing to worry about on my end." You refill the glass again and walk over to her. "And if I'm remembering correctly you're the one that came and spoke to me, so I could ask you the same thing, no?" You jab a finger into her chest as you speak emphasising your point. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to go wash this finger of your germs and finish unpacking." You push past her once again and she scoffs as you walk away back upstairs without looking back at her.
You continue unpacking methodically until everything is put away neatly and your decorations are in their new designated homes. As you collapse onto the bed picking up the book you were reading at the moment from your bedside table you breathe a sigh of relief at the breeze making its way through your open window. Your shared cabin was right on the outskirts of Jackson so your view was the beautiful woods that lined the north west section of the wall, as you looked at the greenery that was reflecting glittering spots of sunlight you reminisced on the times you and Ellie had spent in the woods when you were friends. You're interrupted from your thoughts by the growling of your stomach that prompts you to sneak back to the kitchen.
"Fuck's sake." You mutter under your breath as you walk into the kitchen only to be greeted by Ellie leaning on the counter savaging a bowl of cereal.
"You know you're spilling more of that down your shirt than you're getting in your mouth right?" Ellie looks down at her t-shirt only to see that you were correct when you said she was spilling milk down herself, she huffs and continues eating, this time being more careful as she brings the bowl right to her mouth.
"I thought I made it clear I didn't want to talk to you and yet... here you are talking to me." She mumbles through a mouthful of cereal. You roll your eyes and open the fridge only to see the leftovers you had put in there earlier were gone. You take a deep breath before spinning to give Ellie the dirtiest of looks.
"Are you fucking kidding me? That's the only food I had until I go out tomorrow. Why would you eat it?"
"Oh was that yours? My bad I got hungry earlier, it was really good though you gotta make me some more of that sometime." She smiles sweetly and your face twists into a scowl as you feel the rage boiling inside of you.
"Only we live here Ellie, if you're going to steal my food you could at least own it." You walk away and just before you leave the kitchen empty handed you turn back slightly. "Pussy." You go to walk away until you feel a hand enclose around your arm yanking you backwards. She pushes you up against the wall and leans her body weight on you so you can't move, relishing in your struggle.
"Say that again bitch, I dare you." Her eyes are dark and cold only mirroring yours, a devilish grin appears on your face as you lean in closer to her.
"You're a pussy Williams... and you don't scare me." You push her off with all your strength and rush away from her before slamming your door so hard you're shocked it doesn't come off the hinges. You pace around your room muttering and cursing Ellie before you stop, realising you actually have to live with her for the foreseeable future, every time you looked at her all you could think of is the screaming matches you endured with your parents when they banned you from seeing her and the look of defeat on her face as you ignored her for the first time when she came over to you while you were out with your parents, the nausea you were feeling only grew as the memory of when you came out to your parents flashes through your mind as it does multiple times throughout the day. You grab your book and begin reading once again trying to rid yourself of all these memories that Ellie was bringing up. As you finally feel the nausea calming there are three forceful knocks on your door that you ignore reflexively.
"You gonna open the door or what?" Ellie's voice is muffled but clear enough to make out what she's saying.
"No. Fuck off Ellie!" Ellie rolls her eyes before knocking harder this time and she doesn't stop, she continuously bangs on your door until you throw your book down in frustration to storm over to the source of your irritation. As you yank the door open you're greeted by a smirking Ellie. "WHAT? What could you possibly want? You eat my food, you piss me off, you pin me against a fucking wall, what do you want now Ellie?"
Ellie is taken aback by your harsh tone, typically it had a hint of playfulness to it but now you just sounded angry. She gulped before regaining her standoffish demeanour. "Calm down sweetie."
You scoff and go to slam the door in her face but her hand stops you and pushes the door back so hard you stumble backwards with it, you huff and walk away dropping down onto your bed once again.
"Can I come in?"
"Sure whatever. You're gonna do what you want anyway." She stuffs her hands into her front pockets and walks in as she looks at all the decorations in your room before plopping down on your bed sitting directly on your feet. You snatch them away with a huff as you grit your teeth and curl up to put as much distance between you two.
"What... do you want Williams?"
"Nothing really. Just wanted to see your room. It's very... you."
"Mm and I'm sure yours looks like a squatters pit." You smile smugly at her as she rolls her eyes, your face drops as she turns and eyes the book on your bedside table with a smirk.
"You read romance?" She stifles a laugh poorly.
"Yes and what? Can you even read?" She chuckles and you mumble under your breath "idiot"
"Wow you really are a virgin aren't you?" You eyes flash up at her as your eyebrows knit together and your face turns to a grimace.
"Why do you assume I'm a virgin because I read romance? Maybe I just enjoy it."
"Ha! Right. I'm assuming you're a virgin because only virgins read romance books." You kick at her and she grabs your sock-covered foot stopping you in your tracks.
"Oh my god Ellie can you go away!"
"No no, not just yet. My curiosity is piqued about this book now." Before you can stop her she's reaching for the book and standing up while flicking through some pages.
"Wait, No Ellie don't." She holds it above your head as you stand, you try and snatch it from her once but it's too far out of your reach, panic takes over as she opens it above her head and begins reading aloud. "Ellie fucking stop!"
"Why? It's just a romance book right? Nothing too... inappropriate." Your cheeks heat and the familiar rage comes back in full force, you look down at her feet and stomp on the left one as hard as you can, she yelps and drops her arms which allows you to grab the book from her grasp and you immediately rush out of your room and into the bathroom, locking the door behind you with a triumphant smile.
"Ow you bitch!" You hear Ellie call after you. As you eye the bathtub you decide now is the perfect time to relax in the tub so you can escape Ellie for awhile and read your book in peace.
You stay in the bath until the sun has completely set and the room is bathed in a silvery glow from the moonlight, you guess you were in there for at least an hour but as you start to shiver from the cooling water you decide to finally leave your refuge. As you climb out of the bath you're horrified when you realise your towel is still in your room.
"Fuck fuck fuck." You had to walk past Ellie's room to get to yours but ultimately you decide you'd have to risk it, you unlock the door and peak out into the hallway to see its empty, you edge the door open and begin quickly creeping to your room, you're almost there but as you go to walk past Ellie's room she walks out at the exact same time walking straight into your naked form.
"AGH OH MY GOD!" Your hands immediately attempt to cover your dignity but its an almost failed attempt as you notice her looking you up and down. "DON'T FUCKING LOOK!" You scream as you run past her to your room so quickly your feet slip a little. You hear her cackling in the hallway as you lean with your back against the door in utter disbelief. "No no noooo that did not just happen." You mumble to yourself as you run a hand over your face.
You try to put the embarrassment past you as you settle into bed before passing out from the sheer exhaustion of the day.
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