#for any of my followers who have been looking for therapy that is a bit more tailored to schizophrenia spectrum
Text
You Didn't Know? - Arsenal WFC/Reader
prompt: R is new to Arsenal after proving themselves at the World Cup, but there are a couple of hurdles they have to face before the team fully accepts them.
warnings: none
words: 6497
I will say that I am not deaf or hard of hearing so if there is anything that I've gotten wrong, please let me know so that I can fix it (I tried to do as much research as I could). Anything that represents sign langue is in continuous italics.
Also, this will become a series, so don't worry about needing to ask for a part two because it will be coming. (I think that this has honestly been one of my favorite ideas for a fic ever and I can't wait to continue it)
(Y/N) POV
I grinned as I got out of the car. I wiggled my eyebrows at the camera once I noticed it. Honestly it wasn’t too surprising that Arsenal would be filming my first day here. I didn’t hesitate to greet the people who were waiting for me either.
“(Y/N), it’s really nice to finally meet you,” the woman that I knew as Clare Wheatley greeted me. I quickly shook her hand once she held it out to me. “Congratulations. We’re really happy you’re here.”
“I’m gonna show you around,” the dark-haired woman who was behind Clare spoke up. I sent her a soft smile. “I’m Sadie Ross. I’ll also serve as an interpreter for you should you need one.”
“You know Auslan?” I asked. I didn’t always have the option to take out my cochlear implants here recently. Once Sadie confirmed that she did in fact know Auslan, I couldn’t help the grin that overtook my face. “I use a Northern dialect usually, but I do know the Southern dialect as well.”
“No worries,” Sadie assured me. She moved closer to me before patting my shoulder so I would follow her. “I’ve studied both dialects.”
“Cool.”
I followed Sadie through until we got to the locker rooms where I was given my own Arsenal gear to get changed into. It was obviously just practice gear, but it was nice to be in official gear from my new club.
“It suits you!” Sadie assured me once I stepped out of the locker room.
“I like it!”
“So, we’re going to take you on a tour, show you the grounds, show you your new home,” Sadie said. I couldn’t help but smile as she had started to sign the words she was speaking. “This is obviously the changing room. This is the technical corridor, so we essentially have all of our tech staff in here. Our head coach Jonas in this hall.”
I looked down the hall that Sadie had been talking about. I started to move with Sadie so that I wouldn’t fall behind her.
“If you come down here, this is where the medical section is. Stuff like physiotherapy, massages, cold therapy, all of that sort of stuff will happen here.”
I paid attention as Sadie walked me through where the medical team could be found along with any rooms concerning treatment were. Sadie also showed me where the meeting room was and assured me that she would be at all of our team meetings and regardless of if I had decided to wear my cochlear implants or not, she would be translating everything that was said.
Then we were off to find the gym. This was one of the places that I was most excited to find since I knew I would probably be spending quite a bit of time in the gym. I appreciated that Sadie had also pointed out where each section was.
Soon we were headed outside.
“So, this is where we come out to get to the pitch?”
“Yeah.”
I grinned as Sadie pointed out where the exhibition pitch was. I was sure that I would be out there soon enough. Before long we had made our way to the mess hall that they had. It was there that I met Mikel Arteta.
Sadie had disappeared while Mikel introduced himself to me. Then I got to meet Win. Who immediately had all of my attention as I moved to the floor to play with the dog.
It was ultimately drawn away from Win though as Sadie made a reappearance. I was quick to get to my feet as I took notice of what Sadie had in her hands. I took in the back of the kit that had my number and name on the back.
“Such a beautiful kit,” I said as Sadie handed it over to me. “Honestly, can’t wait to play in it.”
“Come on,” Sadie said with a chuckle. “Let’s get you changed into it.”
I did a little fist pump before the two of us headed out of the mess hall and back to where the changing rooms were. Once I had the kit on, I headed down the hall to the room that Sadie and I had passed earlier.
“How’s it look?” I asked as I entered the room.
“I’d say it’s probably one of the best looking kits you’ve ever worn,” Sadie said. I let out a laugh at that. Honestly, I didn’t have the chance to wear that many different kits. I had left Australia to go to the States to play college football for Stanford. Other than my youth club kits, the only other kits I had been in were with the national team, but those had been more recent. “Not too big or too little?”
Of course, we had to take pictures of me in the kit while I was in front of the logo that was on the wall. It had been one of the moments I had been looking forward to since it was announced that I was signing with Arsenal following my college career and performance at the World Cup. Then I moved to take pictures of me signing my contract.
The rest of my afternoon was filled with a photoshoot in a full kit before we headed to Emirates. It was pretty cool to finally be able to take in the stadium in person considering I had grown up an Arsenal fan. I didn’t mind the photographer that followed me around getting pictures of me exploring Emirates.
We even sat down for a formal interview before Sadie played twenty questions with me so that fans could get to know me better.
“Why Stanford?”
“Why not?” I countered. I laughed as Sadie rolled her eyes. “I dunno why I chose Stanford. I had played with youth clubs, but no one was looking to give me a shot with their senior team in Australia. I was smart enough to get scholarships to attend school in the States. Stanford happened to have open tryouts and I was just really lucky that I was able to impress the coaches there and they ended up giving me a spot on the team.”
“Was it hard?”
“Yeah. I was pretty much all alone in a country I didn’t know and having to constantly prove myself,” I admitted. My time in college, while it had been great, had probably been the worst time of my life so far. “I had to practice all the time while keeping up with my studies and even then, I would barely get playing time. Then we had the 2019 College Cup. I didn’t get a lot of time still, but our coach, Paul Ratcliffe, had taken notice of all the practice I put in, specifically with my penalties so when the game went to penalties, I got to take what ended up being the final penalty. I finally knew what the biggest shot of my career was.”
“Did it help you to prepare for the shootout in the World Cup?”
I shrugged at that. Nothing could compare to the shootout that happened at the World Cup. I hadn’t even expected the penalties to go on so long that I would even take one, but then that plan had collapsed, and I ended up taking the final penalty knowing that France wouldn’t have that much film on my penalty kicks and tendencies.
“Nothing will compare to my World Cup penalty. That has probably been the best moment of my life,” I said. I motioned to my ears. “I do kind of have an advantage. It is nice to be able to literally turn off all of the noise. And if you watch the play back close enough, you can see that I had turned it back on right after the ball left my foot. Being able to go from dead silence to hearing the entire stadium cheering was incredible.”
“Did you get the game ball?”
“I did. It will be brought over after our next national camp because surely by then I’ll actually have my own place.”
“Now to backtrack, because you’ll be getting to play with Lotte and Alessia obviously. Not only did they knock you and Australia out of the World Cup but you, as mentioned earlier, won the 2019 College Cup by scoring the winning penalty which caused the two to lose the same game. Is there gong to be any bad blood?”
“No, I don’t think so. Does it sting that we didn’t win the World Cup? Obviously, but we were able to do an amazing job and we overcame everyone’s expectations that they had set for us. In the end, it just wasn’t our year for it. So, I don’t have any hard feelings about that,” I said. I had been upset and frustrated that we weren’t able to win the World Cup, but I was still really proud of the rest of the Matildas. “As for 2019, that’s a question for Lotte and Alessia. Honestly, I’m not even sure if either of them remembers me from it. I might have scored the goal, but my role that season was not a huge one. I didn’t even see an increase in minutes that second year with the team.”
“What are you most excited about being here with Arsenal for?”
“To play for the team I’ve always loved,” I said before looking over my shoulder at Sadie. “It is really cool that I’m also going to get to play with Caitlin and Steph more than just with the national team. And it isn’t just them. I could pretty much learn from most of the players here with Arsenal and I’m excited to get the opportunity to do so."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I sat by myself again in the mess hall. It seemed that until I got rid of this ear infection, no one was going to approach me except for Sadie. I had really appreciated that she was sitting to eat with me. My hunt for a place to call my own had also been stalled considering I had been trying to rest.
But it had already been three weeks with none of the normal tips and tricks I knew had helped to get rid of this ear infection. Our medical staff at Arsenal hadn’t been able to help me, so they had gotten me in to see a doctor. The doctor had told me it was labyrinthitis, an inflammation of the inner ear.
I had been given medicine for the dizziness that I was experiencing but it did nothing to help the pain I still felt. It led to me ultimately being ruled out of the first qualifying round of the Champions League that took place two weeks ago.
And I couldn’t help but feel like it had partially been my fault when the team came back after being eliminated by Paris FC. I hadn’t even been there with the team for the games. I also wasn’t entirely sure how much the rest of the team knew about why I had been a scratch for the journey.
I looked up at the small tap on the table. Sadie sent me a soft smile as she sat down.
“How you feeling?”
“Tired.”
Not only was I dealing with an ear infection, but the loneliness was starting to get to me. I knew that it would be hard to communicate with my teammates while I wasn’t wearing my cochlear implants, but none of them had tried to get to know me. Not even my national teammates.
I couldn’t wait for the national window to open. Unless I was deemed unable to travel, I didn’t see why I wouldn’t be called up. Even though we’d be in Perth, rather than Brisbane, I was still happy that I’d be back in Australia. I’d even get to see Theo since he had gotten a job with the Matildas. I knew that his main job was to act as an interpreter while I was with the team, but he was also helping take care of all our gear as well.
I sent Kyra a small wave when she smiled at me. The small smile that had taken place on my face quickly turned to a frown though once she moved to join Caitlin and Steph who were sitting with a couple of the English players on our team along with Katie. I sighed as my head dropped down.
“I can say something to them, you know.”
I shook my head. I didn’t need Sadie tackling my problems for me. Besides, once I got over this ear infection, I’d be right there with the other Aussies.
“The last thing I need is for them to think that I’m a coward because I can’t join them and then I send you to confront them for not spending time around me.”
Sadie softly sighed before she nodded. I knew that she hated that I had been left on the outside of the team, but what choice did I really have? I wasn’t really that great at reading the lips of anyone outside of the Aussies and it wasn’t like Sadie could follow me around all day to translate everything for me, she was still one of our assistant coaches.
It was honestly just a really unfortunate situation. One that I hoped would be resolved within two weeks. I wasn’t sure where I would be at mentally if I couldn’t play in our WSL season opener.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My ear infection had finally gotten better a week before we were slated to take on Liverpool, but I was still finding it hard to talk to any of my teammates. Kyra seemed to be the only one willing to seek me out, but it wasn’t often as she was still attached to Caitlin and Steph’s hips. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t been as excited about getting to start against Liverpool. I had questioned Jonas’ decision when he told me, but he said it was the perfect chance to see what I would be able to do so that he could figure out how he would use me for the season.
It would have been fine, if it hadn’t been for the number of knocks that I was taking. It seemed that Liverpool had decided to target me. I wasn’t sure if it was because they weren’t sure what I could do, or maybe they had decided that I was the weak link on the field. But I could handle what they threw at me.
At least until Taylor Hinds and I clashed in the midfield trying to fight for the ball. She had got a hand on the side of my head which ended up knocking off my cochlear implant. This was one of the times where I hated my cochlear implants because it wasn’t like I could just leave it on the ground to come back to while I chased after the ball. No, I had to make sure I grabbed the cochlear implant that had come off my head to make sure that no one stepped on it and destroyed it.
Ultimately, I didn’t even have to worry about Hinds getting too far because the play was called dead. I had assumed that Hinds was going to be reprimanded for the swipe at my head. I wasn’t really sure, but I knew that it gave me time to put my cochlear implant on.
I didn’t tilt my head in confusion when I saw the ref, Emily Heaslip, going to talk with Liverpool’s coach, Matt Beard. My eyes darted between my own teammates because I had no idea why Heaslip was talking to Beard. At least I didn’t have a clue until Heaslip started to wave me over. I glanced around me to make sure she wasn’t trying to get someone else. I even pointed to myself as I raised my brow in confusion. Heaslip nodded her head and waved for me to go over where they were again.
I shrugged as I jogged over to the sideline.
“She’s cheating,” Beard said once I got close enough to hear them. He pointed to the side of his head. “She’s got earbuds in. Getting information from someone up top.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I watched you put it in,” Beard said as he turned to me. My hand flew up to touch my ear. “Yeah, those!”
“You mean my cochlear implants?”
“She should be sent off.”
“They’re medical devices. I have to have them to hear.”
“I’m sure that’s what she tells everyone so she can cheat. After all, how good can a college walk on be anyways.”
Now that was uncalled for.
“I’m better than you because at least I’m playing professionally.”
“Take them out.”
I froze at that. Surely, I didn’t hear that right.
“Take them out before the yellow I’m going to give you becomes a red.”
Heaslip was out of her mind. My eyes immediately darted over to Jonas as I motioned to my ears causing the man to make his way over to us. I wasn’t surprised that Sadie was following behind. Nor when Kim left the huddle of my teammates to see what was going on.
“She’s getting a yellow for blatantly cheating,” Heaslip said once Jonas asked what was going on. “At least I’m giving her the chance to continue the game.”
“They want me to take my implants out,” I explained. I knew that Jonas and Sadie would both be confused as to what cheating they were talking about. “Neither of them are listening that they’re medical devices.”
“Calm down,” Kim softly said from behind me.
I looked over my shoulder at her.
“No, they don’t get to discriminate against me just because they’re idiots.”
Heaslip had enough arguing I guess, because when I looked back at her there was a yellow card pointed at me. Definitely not how I wanted to start my career with Arsenal, but there was nothing I could do to change it now.
“Kim, go,” Jonas said. My captain hesitated, but she moved away from the group to join our teammates. “She quite literally can’t hear if she doesn’t wear them.”
“They come out. Now.”
Heaslip wasn’t even listening to what we were saying. Jonas nodded before glancing at Sadie.
“Okay, just give us a minute so (Y/N) can get them out.”
Heaslip nodded and stayed where she could watch as I walked back toward the bench with Jonas and Sadie.
“It’s not fair,” I said. I had no idea how I was going to play if I couldn’t hear since I always wore my cochlear implants when I played. “My first game with the team and they get to ruin it because they don’t know what cochlear implants are?”
“I’m not taking you out,” Jonas said. I blinked at that. I hadn’t expected him to keep me in. “You can still play without needing to hear. Just try not to keep playing too long after plays are whistled dead.”
“Oh, because that’ll be so easy.”
It wasn’t like I could just keep my eyes trained on the refs for the entire match.
“Sadie will hold onto them.”
I sighed as I looked between the two. It would be nice to finish my first match with Arsenal. I couldn’t do that if I let idiots ruin it for me. It only took me a second to take both of my cochlear implants out and hand them over to Sadie before was back out on the field.
Coming off from the first half, I knew that I was skating on thin ice with Heaslip with the amount of time it took for me to realize when plays were dead. I wanted nothing more than to keep my head down while Jonas talked to us at halftime so that I could at least pretend that the rest of my teammates weren’t staring at me, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to look up so that I could understand what was being said as Sadie translated it for me.
Going back out for the second half wasn’t any easier. I had been slow to move at kickoff since I was relying on when everyone else moved. I tried my best to stay away from fouls, whether my team was committing them or Liverpool, since they were the most unpredictable ways for plays to be called dead. It wasn’t as bad as the first half had been.
But it really came to a head in the 67th minute. We were already down by one, but Caitlin was getting the chance to make a run. I had made the decision to pull toward the middle of the field from my side as the rest of the midfielders were still behind the forwards and I. Caitlin was clearly fouled by Koivisto, but no one was stopping even though Caitlin stayed on the ground.
My eyes stayed trained on Caitlin who wasn’t getting up as I moved backwards. Then I decided to do something that was definitely risky, but I knew that if Caitlin still wasn’t getting up then it would be good for our trainers to check her out. So, I darted across the field where Koivisto was still trying to move the ball. Koivisto stopped and relaxed as soon as I got close to her, but it didn’t stop me from knocking into her to win the ball back. As soon as the ball was at my feet, I sent it out of bounds.
As soon as I had turned to go check on Caitlin, I knew that I was in for it. Heaslip had her eyes trained on me as she started to march over where I was. I scoffed as I rolled my eyes at the clear fact that it was me that she was coming to talk to rather than Koivisto who had been the one to actually foul another player.
I didn’t even pretend like I was paying attention to Heaslip this time. I was just tired of all of the bullshit from this game. However, my eyes did widen when she pulled out the yellow card again and pointed it at me before the red card followed since I had already gotten a yellow.
“Oh, come on. What do you want me to do?” I asked her as I motioned to my ears. “I can’t hear. You made sure of that.”
Heaslip’s lips were moving, but I had no interest in trying to figure out what she was saying. This was insane and I couldn’t believe that I was actually going to have to fight these cards just so that I could play in our next match.
“No seriously, I would love to hear what you want me to do. Oh, wait. I can’t because you made me take my implants out.”
I shoved the arms that were trying to pull me away from Heaslip away from me. I couldn’t wait to fight these cards though so that Heaslip would never call a game again. There’s no way anyone would ever have her referee a game once they found out that she had discriminated against me by denying me the use of my cochlear implants.
I was a bit surprised when Caitlin got in between Heaslip and I before the older Aussie started to push me back. She was pointing toward the tunnel, so it didn’t take much to guess that she was telling me to get off the pitch. My shoulders slumped forward at the obvious disappointment from the player that I had spent so much time looking up to. I couldn’t bring myself to meet anyone’s eyes either as I made my way off the pitch and to the tunnel.
I didn’t even bother to stop by Sadie to grab my cochlear implants. This had to be the worst debut I ever had.
I took a seat in front of my locker. It was an easy technique that I liked to use to help keep me grounded. It made it easier not to lose myself if I could feel the ground under me. I stayed there for the rest of the game. It wasn’t until Jonas and Sadie had entered the locker room that I realized that the game had ended.
“That was the worst game I have ever played.”
Sadie frowned but she relayed the message to Jonas who rubbed at his forehead. Jonas’ eyes stayed trained on me even though mine had to dart between him and Sadie so I could understand what was being said.
“I should have taken you out. That’s on me. I just wanted to give you the opportunity to prove to them that you were better than they gave you credit for. Which you did. We’ll fight the cards and I’m sure that they’ll be overturned considering you really didn’t do anything wrong.”
I shook my head at that because there was nothing that we could do to allow me to redo my first game with Arsenal. Especially in Emirates. It had all been messed up.
“I have dreamed of this day since I was a kid. And it got completely fucked up. I don’t care if the cards are overturned, but I do want apologies from Beard and Heaslip.”
Jonas nodded in agreement once Sadie let him know what I had said.
“Completely understandable and I’ll be sure that it is known that we fully expect apologies from both for forcing you to do something you didn’t want to with your cochlear implants. Whether or not you wear them should be entirely your choice.”
I nodded as I wiped the tears away from my eyes. I knew it wasn’t guaranteed that I would get an apology from either of them.
“I believe there are some fans who would still like to see you. Even if you did get sent off.”
I sighed and dropped my head at that. Before the World Cup, no one was interested in meeting me. It meant that when I had a bad game, or it didn’t go the way my team had expected, that I could leave without disappointing too many people.
But I knew that I needed to go see the fans. They deserved something good from me today after the game. I got to my feet, and I found that Sadie was holding my cochlear implants out to me. I took them from her before I headed out of the locker room so that I could go see some of our fans.
I fiddled with the cochlear implants in my hands as I made my way out of the tunnel to the field. I just wanted to greet the fans and then head home. But it seemed that nothing was going to go my way as I was snagged by the back of my jersey.
When I turned to see who had grabbed my jersey, I was surprised to find Caitlin behind me. She was holding a microphone causing me to full turn to find her in the middle of an interview. I furrowed my brow because I wasn’t sure why she had stopped me considering I hadn’t crashed the interview until she pulled me back. But my eyes moved away from where she was to the reporter who Caitlin was talking to.
“You’re going to have to give me a moment,” I said once I realized that the reporter’s lips were moving a lot faster than I could decipher. It didn’t take me long to get my cochlear implants on before I looked back at the reporter. “Okay, now I’ve got my ears on. What’s up?”
“I was hoping to get your thoughts on your first game with Arsenal. I know after how you played in the World Cup that a lot of the Arsenal faithful were looking forward to seeing you only to find out that you were an illness scratch during the Champions League games.”
“I won’t lie. It’s all been a bit frustrating. Up until today, none of that had been anyone’s fault,” I admitted. I knew that I had to be careful about talking about my frustrations for tonight because I could still be punished if I said the wrong things. “I’m just hoping things will start turning around.”
“What’s been so frustrating?”
“Well, obviously I was an illness scratch for the Champions League games we had. I had been dealing with an ear infection during that time and it lasted until last week. It was brutal and there were times where I was in so much pain. It was just unfortunate that it had to happen almost as soon as I had arrived at Arsenal,” I said as I rubbed the back of my head. It had honestly been the worst ear infection I had ever had. “It made it hard to communicate with anyone really, so that was really hard because I do enjoy spending time with others. But I finally got rid of the infection last week, and Jonas decided to give me the start. So, things are starting to turn around.”
“Even with how tonight ended?”
I glanced over my shoulder at Caitlin who had asked the question. She had a frown on her face. I wasn’t entirely sure why Caitlin looked upset, but I knew that it probably had to do with me crashing her interview or the fact that I just revealed that I had been in pain and isolated.
“Getting carded for the reasons I did was insane and frustrating. Jonas and I have already agreed that we’ll be appealing the cards,” I said. Honestly, I couldn’t believe that Caitlin was okay with the cards I had been given. “I’m sure we’ll win the appeal. I would like to make formal complaints about both Beard and Heaslip considering how I was treated.”
“Well, I’m not entirely sure that you’ll overturn those cards,” the reporter pointed out. I turned my head back to look at her. “You obviously got into a heated talk with Liverpool’s head coach, Matt Beard, and tonight’s referee, Emily Heaslip.”
“It’s simple,” I shrugged. Was I really around this many people who had no idea what cochlear implants were. “One of my cochlear implants fell off and Beard had to be nosy, even though he can’t tell the difference between earbuds and my cochlear implants. Then Heaslip sided with him without talking to either Jonas or I. Which she should have done to figure out what I had in my ears if she was really worried about someone cheating, but she refused to hear us out as we tried to explain.”
“Well, I wish you both better luck for the future.”
I sent a soft smile to the reporter, happy to finally be done with the interview. Caitlin followed me as I headed to where our fans still were so that I could greet them. Caitlin stayed close to me as we talked with the fans and took pictures and gave autographs. I didn’t think much of how close she was staying to me until we were headed back through the tunnel.
“So those weren’t earbuds?”
I stopped in the tunnel causing Caitlin to crash into my back. I honestly hadn’t been expecting the question. Once I regained my balance, I turned to face Caitlin.
“We played at the World Cup together. Not only that but we spent over a month together to prepare for it and then play in it,” I pointed out as I tilted my head in confusion. I knew that I had tended to stick around the ones on the national team who were closer to my age, but we had all spent so much time around each other. The World Cup was one of the few times where I had worn my cochlear implants even when I didn’t want to. “You’ve seen my cochlear implants before.”
“I thought they were fancy headphones,” Caitlin defended. I shook my head as I let out a sigh. She could have just asked me what they were, and I would have told her. “So, what do they really do?”
“We can come back to that in a second,” I said. There was something else that was bothering me now from today’s game. “Were you upset with me when I got the second yellow because you thought I had gotten the first one for wearing fancy headphones?”
Caitlin only shrugged. My shoulders slumped forward because her silence said it all. My own teammates had thought I was cheating along with our referee and opponents’ coach.
“What is it that they do?”
“They’re basically my ears,” I said. This time it was Caitlin who was tilting her head in confusion. “It’s kind of how I’ve always seen them. I have my actual ears and they can hurt and, obviously, I can still get ear infections. But since my actual ears can’t process sound, I have my cochlear implants which are my hearing ears.”
“So, they’re like hearing aids?”
“They have the same purpose but work differently,” I said. A lot of people asked me about this when they first found out that I had cochlear implants so that I could hear. “Hearing aids just amplify sounds so they can be detected by damaged ears. Cochlear implants bypass the damaged parts.”
Caitlin slowly nodded as she furrowed her brow in thought. I didn’t mind answering the questions she had for me. I never had been opposed to answering questions about my disability. But if my own teammates hadn’t realized that I had cochlear implants or what they did, I wondered how many people were unaware of my situation.
“And we all just ignored you when joined the club.”
“It hurt, yeah,” I shrugged. This time it was Caitlin’s shoulders that slumped forward. “I understood though. Outside of our little Aussie group, no one on the team had ever played with me before. And it wasn’t like I’ve exactly had a lot of experience playing with any of you either.”
“But we ignored you.”
“I couldn’t really talk to anyone,” I pointed out. It might have sucked and hurt while I was being ignored, but I had understood why I was ignored. “Sure, I could talk, but I wouldn’t have been able to understand the rest of you.”
“Ross didn’t ignore you.”
“Sadie? She knows Auslan, AKA Australian Sign Language,” I said. I had gotten better offers from other clubs, but Arsenal had already told me that they had an interpreter on staff. “Sadie is literally employed as an interpreter for me now that I’ve joined Arsenal. It just so happened that she was already an assistant coach here at Arsenal and now they’re also paying her for acting as an interpreter.”
“Oh.”
I furrowed my brow. The last thing I wanted was for Caitlin or anyone else on the team to feel like I resented them for not being able to communicate with me. Maybe if I was a kid then I would feel differently about the whole situation, but I had long ago come to terms with the fact that most people wouldn’t be able to communicate with me sometimes.
I grabbed a hold of Caitlin’s wrist as I dragged her to the locker room. I was a bit surprised when we ran into Kyra who was leaving the locker room. It was obvious that she was headed home too considering she had her bag with her.
“Back in the locker room,” I said to her. Kyra’s eyebrow shot up as she looked between me and Caitlin. I looked over her shoulder though to see that the rest of the team was in the locker room. Even our injured players who were talking with the others. “Team meeting! No one leaves until I’m done talking.”
Everyone’s eyes were drawn to me as I turned back to look at Kyra. Kyra nodded before moving back into the locker room which allowed me to drag Caitlin in. Once the locker room door was shut, I let go of Caitlin’s wrist so that she could move to sit down.
“It’s been brought to my own attention that a lot of you are more than likely unaware that I’m Deaf. I was born deaf, and I do use cochlear implants to hear,” I announced. My eyes darted around the room to see how my new teammates would react. “I also know Australian Sign Language, or Auslan. So does Sadie. I wasn’t ignoring anyone or wanted to be left alone during my first month with the club, but wearing my cochlear implants while dealing with an ear infection is quite annoying for me so I chose not to wear them. And I’ll answer any questions you ever have. I really have no problem answering questions.”
The team stayed quiet as they processed everything that I had just told them. The longer the silence went on, the more nervous it made me. I couldn’t help it as I started to fidget where I was standing with most of the team’s eyes still on me.
“So Heaslip made you take off the only thing that allowed you to hear?”
My eyes darted over to where Alessia was sitting. I hesitated for a moment before nodding in confirmation.
“I wasn’t cheating,” I repeated. Just the idea of my new teammates thinking that I had cheated made me nauseous. “And all the warnings for not stopping at the whistle? I couldn’t hear. I had to take cues from everyone else. Well, from you guys.”
My eyes turned to Kim who got up to move in front of me.
“If anyone else ever tries to make you take off your cochlear implants when you don’t want to, they’re going to have to go through all of us,” Kim assured me as she put a hand on my shoulder. “And I know that I’ll be giving you my full support in appealing the cards and any other action you wish to pursue against Heaslip or Beard.”
I sent her a small smile. It was nice to have someone who was willing to back me up so quickly. Especially considering that it seemed like the whole team had been under the impression that I was ignoring them on purpose.
“You’ve got my full support as well,” Alessia said as she stood up.
I didn’t miss how my fellow Aussies shared a look before they also stood up to declare their support. And soon after they stood up, so did the rest of the team.
I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face thanks to the support that the team was so willing to give me even though none of them truly knew me yet. It might have honestly been one of the first times that I ever truly felt like my entire team had my back.
#arsenal wfc imagine#arsenal wfc x reader#arsenal wfc imagines#arsenal wfc#arsenal x reader#arsenal imagines#arsenal imagine#woso imagines#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso#matildas imagine#matildas x reader#matildas
796 notes
·
View notes
Text
All of your senses
Ettore X (Riding Ettore Reader)
Word Count: 2,082
Ettore Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Banners & Dividers by @arcielee
Based on THIS request
Warnings:: Ettore, Dubcon, smut (PinV unprotected). Male whimpering because I wanted it, and I can! Hehehe
Therapy! Ettore scoffs at the thought. As if therapy could ever help him. As far as he understood himself, he didn't need therapy.
Therapy is something to help a person sort through their emotions. Ettore simply doesn't have any. He does not feel things in his head or his heart. The only feelings he recognizes are physical.
You can't hurt his feelings, but you can break his nose. You can't send his heart a flutter, but you can get him off.
In order to be cleared for that damn space mission in which he would be made part of a co-ed population of inmates, he had to go through therapy and nothing was going to stop him from getting on that ship and once again having access to women.
So, with full fledged irritation and annoyance, he drudged his way down to the prison shrink. A guard flanked him on either side.
He thinks it's a bit dramatic. Yes, he can be violent, but it's actually pretty rare. Only when it serves a purpose and beating down the person who could clear him would be counterproductive to his plans.
When you open the door and beckon him inside, he becomes painfully aware of why the guards are necessary. You're his preferred victim type. A young voluptuous woman, long silky hair, skin-tight pencil skirt, and button-up top. The only thing that can make him lose control.
Ettore walks into the room, the chains connecting his hands to his feet scraping across the floor.
"Hello, Ettore." Your voice makes a shiver run down his spine. He doesn't answer you. Instead, he steps closer and sniffs before one of the guards grabs him and pulls him back, shoving him into a cold metal chair before proceeding to strap his arms and legs down.
Once Ettore is securely fastened to the chair one of the guards turns to you with concern.
" We really should stay. This inmate can not be trusted...... around women"
You chuckle at this. " therapy doesn't work well with an audience. I trust that you have fully secured him?"
"Yes, but-" you stop him with wave of your hand.
"I have full faith that he will stay right where you put him. You can wait outside the room."
The guard mumbles under his breath as he motions for the other guard to follow him out into the hallway. He gives Ettore a final stern look before closing the door, leaving the two of you alone.
You sit down in a plush chair directly across from Ettore with his file in your hand. You had been reading everything the prison had on him for the last week in preparation for this evaluation, and you had a pretty good idea of how he ticked.
"So Ettore. How are you feeling today?" You knew this approach most likely wouldn't work with Ettore. Making him comfortable didn't matter. He wouldn't open up to you just because of some pleasantries. He doesn't know how to open up, and if he did. He still wouldn't.
Ettore stares back at you blankly, his eyes endlessly scrolling the length of your form, yet never looking into your eyes.
It's carnal, the ache he feels inside at the sight of your soft skin. His fingers twitching around the arm of the chair. He wants to touch you. He needs to touch you.
"Why don't we start with your childhood. Your file says your mother died when you were young and you were left with your father, who may have had a bit of a drinking problem." If your words were affecting Ettore, you would never know by looking at him.
His eyes continued to ravish you from your neck to your knees. His heart pounding in his ears. What he needs is right there in front of him, yet just out of reach. He once again fights subtly against his restraints. The inability to move suffocating and controlling his every thought.
"Losing your mother so young, coupled with the nature of your crimes. It's my belief that you are in need of a gentle touch." Ettore finally lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you smile back at him.
Touch? His favorite word. Not care, support, or love, as all the other therapists have deamed. No. You used the word touch, the simple phrase having the desired effect.
You stand from your chair and step toward him slowly, his eyes darting down to your legs watching each step.
"Something ....... soft. " You walk up to the side of Ettore's chair and gently graze his cheek with your finger. You can see his arms and wrists fighting against his restraints, and you chuckle.
Ettore's eyes darken at the sound. How lucky you are that he is strapped down to this chair. If he were not, chuckles would not be the sound to come from that pretty little throat.
"Oh, no need to worry." You lean down and bring your mouth right up next to his ear and whisper, "I'll be gentle."
"I won't be." He growls in response, his patience waning. This challenge to his dominance is not something he likes or is willing to accept.
From this angle, you couldn't see his face only the back of his neck where the hairs stood on end, his breathing controlled and heavy.
"You will." You coo in his ear.
You place your hands on the back of the chair, one over each of his shoulders, and bring your mouth close to the nape of his neck. Just gently breathing, letting him feel the ghost of a touch across his skin.
"I'll teach you"
You enjoy watching his response. The tightening of his shoulders the flex in his bicep as he pulls and pulls against his restraints with no hope of getting loose.
"You need some tenderness. That's all. " You walk back around to the front of his chair, Ettore looks up at you, rage clearly written across his face.
A caged animal. Face to face with his prey and unable to act upon his most primal desires.
You hike your pencil skirt up to your mid thighs, and Ettore's eyes instantly drop. The look of anger quickly replaced with hunger, his arms again pulling against his restraints.
"Tsk tsk." You gently rub at his wrists. "Stop that silly boy, you're going to hurt yourself."
His eyes flit about your body wildly, and you smile before placing yourself in his lap, your legs straddling either side of his hips.
Automatically, Ettore thrusts his hips up toward you. "No," you gently scold and hold him down by the hips. "Gentle"
Ettore closes his eyes and breathes deep. A predatory grumble rattling in his chest.
"Now, sweet boy." You bring your cheek up to his, the stubble on his face a little coarse against your skin and the tightness in his jaw apparent.
"Relax," You roll your hips against him slowly, his thin prison pants giving away his excitement.
Ettore again desperately pulls against his restraints. You can't have the power here. He can't let you have the power here.
"Stop," you say, voice firm. You bring your hand up to his chin and gently message it with your thumb. You gently tug on his bottom lip before leaning in and placing a soft kiss against his lips. He doesn't reciprocate. The feeling so foreign, so strange.
"Doesn't that feel nice, sweet boy?"You move your hands so that you are cradling his strong jaw. Holding his face so he has no choice but to look at you.
"Just what the doctor ordered, hmm?" You bring your lips down to him again. Slowly pushing your tongue into his mouth. Not aggressive, not passionate.
You move your tongue in his mouth, and you feel him start to kiss back, aggressively at first, but you keep your pace steady and soft.
You bring your hands to the back of his head, tugging briefly on the hair there. You control his movement this way. Too aggressive, you tug him back.
You roll your hips against him again, falling into a steady rhythm.
With his head pulled back and his neck craned completely powerless as you grind yourself against him, he whimpers.
"What was that sweet boy?" You grind yourself harder against his erection and he whimpers louder.
"Tell me" you demand as you again increase the speed and pressure of your movements.
"Please." He finally croaks out, followed by another whimper. "God please"
"Oh, poor thing." You keep his head pulled back and lick a stripe up his neck. "Am I teasing you?"
Ettore groans, and you slightly lift yourself from his lap.
"I don't want to drive you mad." You release his hair, and he looks at you, panic in his eyes.
"No, wait," Ettore tries to reach for you but is trapped by those damn restraints.
"Oh. Don't worry, sweet boy. " You grab his cheeks and squeeze them briefly. "We aren't done"
You reach beneath you and shimmy his pants down just enough to free his cock. His mouth opens slightly at the feeling his eyes glazing over.
"Slow and gentle." You nuzzle your nose to him as he holds his breath.
He looks so desperate. So pathetic. It's so satisfying.
You press the head of his cock to your entrance and sink down just enough so the tip breeches your walls and nothing else.
Ettore instinctually bucks his hips once before you again grab him and hold him in place.
"Tsk tsk," you scold him as you hold him down and slide up and down over just the tip of his throbbing cock.
His body starts shaking so harshly that it's nearly convulsing. It takes your full strength to hold him in place, his hips desperate to move.
"Fuck fuck fuck" He whimpers loudly. "I need it. More. Fuck more!"
"More?" You sink down just a smidge further and watch as Ettore's head lulled, and his eyes started to roll back.
"Ahh!" He clenches his jaw and moves his hips subtly, getting himself just a tiny bit further.
You slide down further, now halfway down his shaft.
"Kiss me nice and gentle like I taught ya" He lifts his head and looks at you with confusion.
"Not moving another inch till ya do," Ettore quickly brings his face to yours. He tentatively kisses you with slow unsure movements.
As the kiss continues, you slide slowly down the rest of his shaft until your ass rests on his thighs and he moans into your mouth.
You smirk, you have an apex predator beneath you, whimpering, moaning, and begging for relief.
"See? So gentle you are. " You softly blow into his ear as you roll your hips slowly.
Ettore gasps at the sensation, his entire body vibrating. He's been in this prison for two years already, with no one but his hand to keep him company.
The pressure builds up in the base of his spine quickly, but he fights the urge to buck his hips, knowing you would stop if he did.
"You wanna cum sweet boy?" He nods a pained expression on his face.
You lean back in and kiss him again, this time with more urgency as you bring your fingers to your clit. The perfect mixture of his soft kisses, your nimble fingers, and his thick cock scraping against your walls bring you over the edge quickly.
As your cunt pulses around him you grip his hair again exposing his neck to you.
"Cum sweet boy. Right now, " He has no choice but to comply he bucks his hips twice and then spills himself inside of you, his mouth wide open and eyes closed.
You kiss him once more, but he is spent, mouth just hanging open lazily. You hop off of him and fix his pants as he smiles up at you, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.
You fix yourself and, without another word, to him open your office door telling the guards to take him back to his cell.
On his way out the door, he keeps his eyes on you, tripping over his shackles and being caught by a guard.
You pay him no mind and quickly close the door behind him and sit down at your desk.
You fill out the sheet you were given approving him for the mission, and of course, suggest a few more therapy sessions before he goes.
To be added to taglists please click Here
#ewan mitchell verse#ettore x reader#ettore high life#ettore smut#ettore#ettore imagine#ewan nation#ewan mitchell fanfic#ewanverse#ewan mitchell#jess fics#my red flag bf
219 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey, you recently mentioned somewhere about how growing pains aren't really a thing the way we think of them in the tags about a post about taking kids' pain seriously. And i've been sitting on that ever since, as someone who had severe 'growing pains' growing up that'd take me out for days but was told to stick it out. Thing is, they never went away and despite hitting 30 soon I regularly google something like 'growing pain in 20s' with some regularity.
I've finally bit the bullet, done the doctor marathon, ended up at a rheumathologist and was like 'idk i've had pain my entire life i was told it was normal'. (Didn't go over well, but how could it have.) Despite him then noting hypermobility he's adamant hsd or heds aren't worth looking into. And now i'm sat here like. Well, was it ever growing pains?
Could you talk more about what you meant with the growing pains? My mind is not letting it go
'growing pains' is something doctors say to dismiss pain in teens and children a lot.
the fact is, yes, some children get pains that are temporary and ultimately harmless and not at all related to growing in fact we don't know why it happens
the other fact is it tends to be limited to the ages of approximately 3 to 11, yet doctors use it to dismiss pain in teenagers - who still do a lot of growing often very quickly (especially boys).
it affects mostly if not exclusively the legs (notably calves and shins) and worsens following physical activity. yet doctors will often use it to handwave away any and all musculoskeletal pain
so yes there is a type of pain children (but not really teens) can experience in their lower legs. but not a) the rest of the body b) long-lasting c) bad all the time and d) it has nothing to do with actually growing
and frankly given we "don't know" why it happens at all i'd bet decent money there actually is a cause for whatever pain happened even if it was temporary. like doing the three-legged race wrong.
edit: sorry skipped over the hypermobile part. for some people (i hate them personally) hypermobility is not painful. for most people it IS. this is for the simple fact that your ligaments and tendons (connective tissue) are too stretchy so they aren't holding your joints in place as well as they should. so you know what has to pick up your slack? your larger muscles. you know what is built for movement and not 24-7 activation to keep you assembled? your muscles. they're doing something they're not supposed to have to do, and they're doing it all the time and they are fucking tired. unfortunately (i have hypermobile EDS and didnt get diagnosed until i was 28) there is no "cure" for this. the only treatments are stabilisation - physical therapy to try and build up the smaller stabilising muscles and support garments or things like k-tape to take the load off the bigger muscles by providing external support. also massage and heat to relieve the tension and tiredness.
#that's what i mean by 'growing' 'pains' aren't really a thing#they certainly weren't why i could barely walk at the age of 16 having not grown a single fucking milimetre since the age of 13#and they aren't why your back hurts. and they aren't why your shoulders hurt
108 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm sorry that you're going through this. It sounds terrible.
How does a machine make your bones feel like jam? What do you mean, "like jam"? What helps while you're in the machine?
You lamented the lack of a "no downers" Tumblr option before. Is there any kind of fun internet thing your followers could curate for you?
thank you for actually asking me about the Big Machine
so a modern radiation therapy machine looks like this:
It is actually kind of hard to communicate the scale of this thing. It's the size of most people's living rooms, and the whole thing rotates around you. You feel like you're trying to dock with the international space station.
Actually being in the machine doesn't feel like anything. You lay down, they take your boob out of your hospital gown and align the lasers to these little tattoos they've put on your chest and sides, they leave the room, Vivaldi plays for about 5 minutes while things beep and buzz and the space station revolves a few times, and then you're free to get dressed and go home.
Then - in my experience, as someone who is, apparently, "a real outlier" in terms of how sensitive I am to radiation - about 30 minutes later, on the subway ride home, you start to feel extremely bad. Shaky, weak, exhausted, stabbing pains all over the boob, and just an overall feeling of, like...internal griminess. Like there's grit gumming up everything on your insides. You feel wobbly, like your bones have turned to jelly. It feels a little like food poisoning, but without the nausea, if you've ever had that experience. Just that jittery, feverish, whole-body feeling of something being very wrong.
That feeling persists for 4-5 hours, then starts to taper down; but it never tapers down completely, so every day (and you go in for radiation every day, except for weekends) it builds up a little bit more. So on Monday, you feel like shit for a couple of hours, but you shake it off by dinner time; but by Friday, you're dragging yourself through every step of the process and then you get home and pass out for 14 hours.
It's weird, too, because it's not like there's anything that the doctors can do to make it better. Like, they can't give you a different treatment, or give you less radiation. There's a set amount of radiation you need to receive over a set amount of time to be sure that they've killed all the cancer, and the alternative to radiation is cancer, so you're getting radiation. The radiologist was sympathetic to how hard I've been taking it, but all she could really do is remind me that it's temporary. All of the effects of the radiation will be out of my system a week or two after the treatment ends, so like. Knuckle down, camper, it is what it is.
Y'all are sweet to ask if there's anything you can do, but honestly, not really. I vent a bit about this stuff on Tumblr because I don't want my friends and family to have to hear about how tough this is. Sending the occasional nice message or little question is appreciated! It gives me something to think about that isn't cancer.
139 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gentleman- (Brook x Reader) SMUT
Summary: You and Brook have been doing this for a while now, teasing each other and seeing who will make the first move. Ever the gentleman, Brook is happy to play along until you give him permission to go further.
Rating: NSFW
Content: AFAB and GN! Reader, teasing, consensual voyeurism tease, strap-on, handcuffs + restraints, explicit consent, slight temp play, inappropriate use of Brook's DF, Brook and Reader being teases and menaces to each other, missionary, and confessions of love.
Also a bonus ending haha.
Word Count: ~3.1k
A/n: Requested <3 Yes we ARE fucking the skeleton man and god damn it he is the best of the best. No I am not accepting criticism nor will I get therapy. THIS IS FOR ALL THE BROOK STANS WHO ARE THIRSTY FOR MORE. DON'T WORRY, YOUR GIRL IS JUST AS THIRSTY FOR HIM TOO! Thank you for the request, darling, and I hope you enjoy!!! This was a blast to write.
You can read on my AO3 here!
“Brook, are you coming with us to shop?” Luffy asked. Brook took a drag of his cigarette and glanced over to your figure sitting on the deck. He hummed then shook his head.
“Sorry, Luffy, I’ll have to pass on that today,” Brook stated. The smoke was leaking through his eye sockets and nose, but he could still make you out. He knew you were listening in, and the mischievous grin on your face told him you enjoyed his answer.
And, well, he had to admit, he quite enjoyed your reaction too. He exhaled another puff of smoke as Luffy shrugged.
“Okay. You and (Y/n) can watch the ship then,” Luffy waved. The other crew members had gotten off the ship, but Robin was the last to go, following behind Luffy after glancing at you and Brook with a raised brow. Brook didn’t give her an inch, continuing to casually smoke as if everything was well. At this moment, he didn’t particularly care what Robin may or may not have thought. The game was just beginning again, and he had a role to play.
Today… perhaps today would finally be the day he could manage to win the prize.
As Robin’s heels clicking eventually got quieter, Brook exhaled again. Smoking didn’t particularly do much for him as a pile of bones, but the few glances you’d shoot at him before looking down again confirmed to him that you indeed seemed to enjoy it. He didn’t take you for the type, but then again, he didn’t take you for the type to do any of things you were doing now.
He also didn’t think he was the type to play along with it as well.
It seemed that despite being dead and a skeleton, he was still a man through and through. The thought humored and comforted him somewhat, while also making him feel absolutely ridiculous.
You kept drinking quietly on your spot in the deck, with a spare cup of tea right beside you.
Of course you’d make tea. He loved tea. And this little “invitation” of yours would be nothing but trouble, should he accept.
He strode over to you and picked up the cup. It was still warm, the perfect temperature for him to drink it at.
“Ah, thank you for the tea, my dear,” Brook said in appreciation, with a hint of the profane beneath that kindness. You looked up to him and smiled.
“I figured you’d want some. You’re my drinking buddy,” you joke, using the old nickname he gave for the both you. He chuckles and takes a sip.
“It’s a lovely day outside, isn’t it?” He says, not really caring about the weather. You don’t care about it either, keeping your eyes trained onto his.
“Mhm. It’s just a bit too hot for me…” you fan your face with your hand before tugging at your tight top. He knows what you’re pulling. He’s a lot taller than you, so he can look down at you as you show off your cleavage by tugging on the top. He doesn’t show any emotion or do anything beyond just sip his tea. He’s not letting you win this one today.
You’re not impressed with his reaction, as he sees your face falter for a brief second. You arch your back and groan loudly.
“Oh man, my back is killing me,” you say dramatically. He continues to watch as you stretch, curiously thinking of how you would look on your bed.
Snap out of it!
“That’s too bad. Perhaps you should try to take it easy today,” he suggests. “Maybe lay down for a while?”
“That sounds nice but I was thinking about taking a bath right now,” you say as you run a hand through your hair and stand up. Even when you were standing, you still had to look up at him due to his height. You don’t even wait for his reply as you turn around and stretch again, this time bending over so he can take a good look at your behind. “See you in a bit,” you wink.
Brook can feel the cracks beginning to form in the cup he’s holding.
“Enjoy your bath. Should I be watching over you just in case?” He asks. It is the game you two have played, but even with his own fantasies, he won’t overstep with you.
“I’d like that,” you say, giving him permission. “I’ll feel much safer knowing you’re keeping an eye on me.”
And just like that, you two have folded. You saunter away, making sure to glance back at him over your shoulder. Brook feels the excitement running through his bones. He follows after you, keeping a sizeable distance while you disappear into your room to change. He waits outside, and he’s eager to use his Devil Fruit to take a peek, but that would spoil the fun, he thinks.
So he waits. He hears the fumbling of your clothes, the opening of some drawers, some metal clinking- and then a small yelp.
He drops his composure and knocks on the door.
“(Y/n)! Are you alright in there?” He asks.
“Yes. I need some help though. Can you come in?” He immediately swings open the door once you ask, and he’s shocked at the sight.
You’re leaning on your bed, a towel wrapped around you while you hold your knee.
“Are you okay?” He asks. You nod.
“I think it might be a small cut. Could you open that drawer over there and hand me a bandage?” You ask, pointing at the small nightside next to the bed. He nods and opens the drawer before another gasp.
Inside is…
He closes it.
“M-my mistake,” he quickly apologizes, the embarrassment obvious in his voice. You click your tongue and dramatically sigh.
“Oh, stupid me. I forgot that was where I keep my strap on and handcuffs!” You reply, and he glances at you to see you look completely fine while batting your eyes again at him. “I’m just so silly. I hope no handsome skeleton tries to use them with me right now. That would be awful.”
You lean in closer to him, and he does too, admittedly enjoying how coy and forward you’re being today.
“It would be a shame. How much would you dislike it if he did such a thing?” Brook asks, letting one of his fingers trail down the side of your face before he grabs your chin.
“I’d absolutely despise it,” you whisper, and the heat of your breath sends shivers down his spine.
“Well, fortunately for you, I am no handsome skeleton. Is that okay?” He whispers back as his other hand opens the drawer to bring out the fuzzy handcuffs you had there.
“It’s more than okay,” you reply, and that’s all he needs before he quickly pins you to your bed and cuffs you. This is the furthest the two of you have gone, and you both relish in the surprise and excitement on your faces.
He notices the way your face turns brighter, the smile on your face getting larger, and the way your chest rises up a little faster due to your breathing. It’s all so enticing to him. He can’t help but look at you as if you’re the only thing in the world right now. In this moment, you might as well be.
“We should be quick, yes? I imagine the others will be back soon,” he reminds you.
“I don’t care, honestly. I’m sure some of them probably figured it out already. Now come on, are you going to fuck me, or what?” You smirk.
“You’re quite mouthy, darling. I thought you had some manners,” Brook teases your language, and you can’t help but let out a chuckle.
“Sorry. Please, Brook, will you fuck me, or what?”
“We’ll get there eventually,” he laughs back. He holds your restrained wrists with one bony hand (geez, was he always this strong?) and lets the other trail over your loose towel. He swiftly yanks it off with one tug, and lets it lay under the bottom half of your body, like the gentleman he is. He is amazed you’re letting your body be barren for him to see- to explore, finally.
It is a tantalizing figure, as his fingers trace the outline of your body, from your collarbone, over your soft chest, to your stomach. The trembling breath you release is music to his ears, and he can’t wait to hear more.
“Your body is a work of art, dear,” he says with a soft and genuine tone of voice. It catches you by surprise, as you look up at him with wide eyes. “I mean it. You’re very lovely.”
His fingers keep stroking over your skin, and he enjoys the feel of it. He wants to remember this moment for decades to come. He wants to indulge in this feeling, of this gorgeous human presented underneath him. In his years of living (and unliving), he hadn’t quite felt so attracted to another. And though he knew what the end would bring, he still wanted to spend a moment with you. To allow him and you the chance to finally be one.
“May I continue?” He asks. You nod and make another sound of encouragement. His hand cups at your breast, rubbing and squeezing the soft flesh in his hand. It is soft and warm. It’s unlike anything else, really.
You’re warm all over, and the natural heat of your body makes him long and desire more.
“Can I try something?” Brook pauses his ministrations and you nod.
“Go ahead, Brook,” you respond your curiosity peaked. Brook places the hand against your stomach and you instantly gasp when you feel a slight chill where is his hand is.
“Brook-!” You let out such a delicious moan of his name, and he grins.
“You like that?”
“Yes, go on…” you whimper. He gets excited at this, and begins to run his hand along your warm skin, cooling it off gently with his powers. The sensation makes you shiver and let out beautiful sounds he wishes to hear more of.
Now he’s feeling a bit selfish. He wants to pull more sounds out of you.
He stops with the cooling touch and instead has his hand travel to your lower region.
“Ah, you’re dripping wet,” He teases, running a finger through your folds and showing you the sticky fluid on it. It’s almost embarrassing, but you’ve long abandoned shame for this moment.
“Don’t take so much time,” you whine.
“Darling, you can’t expect me to see this and not enjoy your body, do you?” At this, he leans down to your ear while his thumb circles your clit and a finger enters your body. The loud exhale you let out was lovely. “Allow me to show you what you have done to me with all that damn teasing.”
His finger moves faster, before he adds another and you throw your head back.
“Heh, you’re just upset you kept falling for them,” you cheekily respond.
“Perhaps. But no more games right now. I want you. I want you badly,” Brook replied earnestly.
His fingers were stretching you out, and you moaned.
“And you want me, too,” he adds. You nod.
“In the drawer… lube in there…” you breathlessly say. He complied and quickly brings out the bottle.
“Yohohoho! You really came prepared!” Brook laughed. “I guess I should get undressed, shouldn’t I? Although, I’m already naked!”
You rolled your eyes at another of his bad jokes, but he saw how you had a small smile on your face.
“Just take them off, Brook,” you chuckle, and Brook slowly removed his fingers from inside you. He removed his jacket and pants, revealing himself fully to you. Even though most of his skeleton was visible on a usual basis, to expose himself like this to you, in this context, was almost… frightening to him. He let you stare for a moment, let you take it in, in case you wished for him to stop. He certainly wouldn’t blame you if you had said so.
But instead, you tilted your head towards the toy and looked at him with raised brows.
“You ready?” You asked, confused and sounding vulnerable- as if you were afraid he wished to leave. Brook ran his thumb over your cheeks.
“Yes. Very much so. I’ve waited a long time for this,” he replied in a hushed manner. With that, he had attached the strap on to his pelvis and applied a liberal amount of lube so as to not hurt you. He held your hips and gently rubbed the dildo across your folds a few times to stimulate you. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. Go ahead, Brook,” you replied, and with a swift thrust, he sunk into your soft walls. Although he couldn’t feel it, the noise you made was precious. Beautiful. You took deep breaths to adjust, and Brook rubbed your stomach in tender circles to soothe you.
“Sh….sh… tell me when to go, dear,” he whispered. You swallowed roughly before panting out a ‘go’, and he began to move his hips. Your chest and body bounced with every thrust he made, and he watched in amusement at the way your face contorted with pleasure.
“Oh, geez, Brook… fuck…” you moaned out loud, freely expressing yourself knowing that none fo the other members were here.
“Good, good… let it out. Let it all out. Let me hear your voice,” Brook ordered. He moved a hand lower down your body and let his thumb rub your clit again. The sensation of the toy inside you and his finger against your sensitive nub drove you mad, making you scream in joy and ecstasy.
“Harder!” You yelled, and Brook complied by thrusting his hips faster. He leaned down towards you, pinning your arms again with his other hand.
“As you wish, my dear. But don’t blame me if you can’t walk after, alright?” You were too focused on the pleasure to respond or care, giving a weak nod. Brook found it almost cute, but he didn’t want to embarrass you or make you feel self-conscious, so he kept the thought to himself.
The pleasure in you was growing as Brook continued to hold you tighter, squeeze you harder, and fuck you faster. It was almost inhuman how hard he was going, and the attention he was giving to your body made you melt against the bed. You whined, begged, pleaded, and cried pathetically, thanking Brook for the pleasurable experience.
“You’re getting close, hm? You’re squeezing it so tight and your breathing is getting faster,” Brook hummed to himself.
“Y-yes, Brook… please…” you whined, and Brook removed the hand pinning you down to stroke your throat.
“I want to be a bit selfish, darling. I want to hear you scream my name,” he said. “Can you do that for me?”
“B-Brook,” you stammered.
“Louder.”
“Brook,” you stated as his hips hammered into you.
“You can do better than that,” he commented.
“Brook!” You cried as he hit a wonderful spot inside you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and Brook took it as his cue to get you over the edge.
“Louder, my dear! I know you can do it! Put your soul into it!”
The thumb working on your bundle of nerves pressed down and you felt your oxygen being taken away as the coil that had been building up within you snapped.
“BROOK!” You screamed, orgasming around the toy. Brook slowed his hips down to a halt while he let his his thumb continue to circle to extend your orgasm.
You shakily rested against the bed, gasping for air and twitching in delight. You felt a cool touch on your forehead as Brook placed his hand and used his Devil Fruit powers again.
“This should help you settle down and relax,” he explained, and the hot pulse of your lower body combined with his cool touch on top made for a pleasant feeling.
“Thank you, Brook,” you mumbled, your eyes fluttering in exhaustion. You let out a quiet laugh and had a tired smile, a sign the afterglow was getting to you. He wanted to bask in it for a long time. Brook removed the strap-on and had placed it to the side, taking to settling beside you on the bed as he undid your handcuffs.
He wrapped his bony arms around you, spooning you against him. It was quiet, minus the sound of your breathing. That was, until you spoke up.
“I love you,” you stated in a low tone.
“H-huh?” He gasped, taken aback by your confession.
“I love you,” you repeated.
“(Y/n), is this the sex talking?” He joked, unsure if you were being serious. No, it was more like… like he couldn’t believe you felt that way for him.
“No. It’s my heart talking. I love you.”
He stayed silent, not certain of how he should respond. You curled into yourself, expecting rejection. Instead, Brook pulled you closer and and rested his chin on the crook of your shoulder.
“Then, if that is the case… allow me to give my heart to you, as well. Of course, I don’t have a heart anymore but you’ll allow that, won’t you?” Brook asked. You sighed in relief.
“I won’t mind. Not at all, Brook.”
“Wonderful. (Y/n), you do have all of me. Even though I don’t have a body or heart, my soul will be yours,” Brook confessed. “I will always treasure you within me.”
He stroked the side of your body before he heard your quiet snores. He chuckled as he pressed his “mouth” to your head, as if kissing you.
BONUS:
“Hey, where are those two?!” Nami cried, lugging back tons of bags from their shopping trip.
“Some guarding they were doing,” Zoro scratched his head as he threw a large box onto the deck floor. Luffy meanwhile, looked around and frowned.
“Do you think they ate without us? Meanies,” the captain pouted. Robin glanced to the deck table and noticed the cup of tea you had brewed earlier- or, more accurately, the one you made for Brook- and chuckled.
“It’s best we don’t disturb them. They probably got tired,” Robin said in a mirthful tone. She had a smile on her face, and Nami recognized that smile. It was the smile that meant that Robin knew something no one else did. Nami raised a brow at Robin before dusting off her hands.
“Well, since they’ve rested up, the least they could do is help us put all these supplies away!” Nami responded, not even daring to guess what Robin was thinking of.
Robin nodded.
“Of course. I’ll go let them know they’re wanted here,” she laughed again as she began walking to the your room.
#one piece oneshots#one piece x reader#op smut#one piece smut#one piece#brook#one piece brook#brook x reader#op brook x reader#smut
182 notes
·
View notes
Text
So something my sis and gf and I have been into lately??? We wanna buy an abandoned building (warehouse, school, church, whatever) and turn it into a house with apartments for all of us in there. That’s fun.
Anyways. Got me thinking. Because it suddenly hit me that if Obi-Wan had to find a new home post-war but with the republic winning. I think it would be HILARIOUS because he’s probably got a Padawan and Cody and half torrent and Boga and gotta have room for Ani and Padme and the twins to come visit- anyways. He’s gonna get some huge ass abandoned warehouse and start converting it into apartments and bedrooms and bathrooms and kitchens and a gym and shit okay he’s just gonna have to find the biggest warehouse he can so the front doors are big enough already to get his dino-horse in so she can snuggle and he’s got so many people to house rn.
Thankfully, that clone efficiency is gonna come in handy and sure give these guys a happy helpful thing to do post-war with all the renovations they’ll have to make lmao
Also I’m thinking of the SpaceToks lmao ‘come with me to renovate my abandoned warehouse into a mansion’ and then you open it up to show something that looks genuinely decent but decorated like a sim just throwing furniture all over the place and a 30 foot varactyl with a small child on it in the middle of the room and a bunch of armored clones playing super smash bros on the wall tv. Instant follow okay you just know you’re gonna see some weird ass shit here. There are a bunch of comments all ‘it’s all just for show Jedi and clones don’t live like that irl’ and then other Jedi replying ‘yeah I know Kenobi is fucked up but the rest of us wanna live like this too Lmao’ and stitching Plo’s wolfpack and Mace’s chaos house with his grandpadawan who keeps bringing home kids for no good reason and Shaak with a bunch of tinies hanging off of her at all times for cuddles.
Just give me the post-war shit where the Jedi are like ‘lmao we gonna take a break for a bit’ and chill out to go to therapy and all that. Give me the renovation videos with Boga hiding around every corner like a Backrooms monster. I need it.
#star wars#obi wan kenobi#clone wars#post clone wars#he’s married to Cody and took Reva as his Padawan#they found an abandoned warehouse on Stewjon and are gonna turn it into a mansion#boga
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
MIK s2e2: MĀORI CULTURE: Sam recalls some poignant moments when he gets a Māori "moko"
After reading a post about a TV Line recap of MIK episode 202, I decided to watch this episode about Māori culture for myself. I was touched by the scenes where Sam and Graham each tell their stories in the process of getting a nonpermanent version of a "moko" (or tā moko), a deeply meaningful form of tattoo in the Māori culture.
Tā moko artist Hohua Mohi explains that someone who wants a moko will "sit down for a good hour" and start talking about some part of their life that is meaningful, like their family, where they came from, etc. As they are talking, the moko artist is drawing, and consequently, every moko is unique and very personal.
The Story Behind Sam's Moko
SAM: Well my dad left, when I was, uh, very young, three years old, so I didn't--I didn't know him at all.
HOHUA: Yeah.
SAM: I actually didn't know his name.
SAM: And uh, my mum brought me up with my elder brother in the south of Scotland. She's--she's been very, very strong my whole life. And she struggled, I think, to look after two young boys.
SAM: Um, and it probably wasn't until I was… mid-20s that I finally, uh, met my dad. And, actually, very recently, I got to see him just before he died, which was uh, incredible, just to learn about him and his life.
SAM: And, uh, we spent a few days together.
I work a lot, and I'm very fortunate. But I always put it first. So I guess, uh, relationships are difficult.
Sam's Moko Explained and Revealed
HOHUA: So, if you look at it, it talks about your--your father. It talks about your dad and then your brother in here. This manaia here represents your mum. And so it's obviously facing upwards.
SAM: Yeah.
HOHUA: I've been giving you advice.
SAM: Ah, so she's been giving me advice, mm.
HOHUA: And if you look at it, rather than just follow a single line, all of these colors, they branch off, they branch off, they branch off.
SAM: Yeah, yeah.
HOHUA: And it was-- They came from you talking about how you wanted-- ultimately, you know, you don't know whether or not you're gonna settle down there, but you- you want to go and see the world.
SAM: Somewhere else, yeah, yeah.
HOHUA: So that's what--that's what this will remind you of. You know?
SAM: Different branches.
HOHUA: Yeah, but also, no matter which way you branch off, never forget where... [speaking native language]
SAM: Wow.
HOHUA: Hmm.
SAM: My friend. [shakes hand] So beautiful.
GRAHAM: That is really--
SAM: Thank you so much.
GRAHAM: It's pretty.
SAM: Isn't that awesome?
SAM: A strange experience as well.
GRAHAM: A unique experience.
SAM: Yeah, just also very personal. It felt like going to therapy a little bit.
GRAHAM: Yeah.
SAM: But, uh, very, very honored.
GRAHAM: Yeah. Yeah. Really, thank you so much.
Being a therapist myself, it seemed to me that the process of getting a moko is very much a therapeutic experience. The person getting a moko focuses inwardly and shares important parts of their past that define who they are. The moko artist appears not to be judgmental and listens at a deep level. Then the artist presents the moko, which is a visual symbol of something very unique about the person. And they also give verbal feedback to the person about what they have understood to be the essence of their story.
Sounds like a "therapeutic" encounter to me!
[edited]
___________
NOTE: Images of Sam's moko were enhanced for clarity and to accentuate the colors.
Thanks @thetruthwilloutsworld for making the TV Line Recap post. I'd never watched any episode of MIK before. I'm glad I watched this episode. I enjoyed learning about Māori culture, as well as finding out more about Sam's and Graham's personal backgrounds.
#men in kilts#season 2#episode 202#maori culture#sam heughan#graham mctavish#moko#tā moko#hohua mohi#outlander cast#my gifs#my edits
327 notes
·
View notes
Text
DRIVER'S ERA // CHAPTER 1
➸ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: (18+) Slow burn/ mentions of traumatic experiences and depression : Eventual smut* Mutual masturbation and mentions sexual as*ult //Fem!reader // Bad driving! Swearing: Toxic relationship dynamics: Phone s*x! Descriptions of alcohol abuse. Fluff! Mentions and descriptive scenes of blowjobs/handjobs at some point in the story idk. Set in the last year of high school (All characters are 18) : Art credits!!: Niharikajetty twitter
➸ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: Splitting up this fic into parts because there’s so many ideas gong on in my head and i just wanted to put something out there in the meantime. All Tags seen above will be in upcoming chapters of the story! Thanks for reading!
To put things into perspective you never passed your driver's test. In this current moment, as you sat in a bland white waiting room adorned with blue chairs and the occasional ring from a cellphone, you had a refurbished memory. Throughout the last three years of high school, you had made friends and one by one everyone in the group had either got a car, a license, a learner's permit or something equivalent to a drivers license. Skipping classes every other day to go get ice cream or go on a target run, with the occasional mid-day movie during your chemistry class. which for all your parents knew, you were in.
Up until last week, you and your friend Sasha had been the only ones in the group without any sort of completed driver's education. That is until Sasha and the near-death experience she had with her instructor on the road,had somehow got a cool passing grade on her first road test. The group was elated and this in turn made you finally step up to do the thing that was long overdue.
As you scroll on your phone, you hear the ding and the woosh of the sliding automatic doors, as footsteps enter the building. You glance up and almost feel yourself wanting to blink two times more than you normally would at the sight in front of you. And you did just that, probably looking half-blind and a little bit crazy.
Standing at the receptionist desk in the room was a tall 5’8 man with dark brown hair touching his shoulders,a slender build and dressed with a dark green t-shirt that hugged his lean chiseled muscles and black jeans. He scanned the room and locked eyes with you. Finally giving you a clear view of his dark green eyes.
Where do I know you from? You thought as you quickly broke eye contact and looked back down at your phone.
You heard a deep voice say something that sounded like a “Thank you” to the receptionist and heard footsteps coming toward you. Not looking up from your phone you watched the soles of his black vans move down the aisle you were sitting and sat at the end of the opposite aisle of yourself. You don't know why, but you noticed how your breathing became a little shallow as he was walking towards you. You brushed it off as being irritable, as you were still frustrated from the post-driving lesson that went worse than you expected.
Taking a breath, you got up from your seat and walked down the aisle towards the receptionist's desk. You are being sought on scrolling on through your phone trying to avoid awkward eye contact with anyone. Even if you were the one who felt someone boring their eyes into your back as you greeted the receptionist.
Having set up a date for your next driving lesson with the receptionist she had told you to wait a moment as she got up and moved to the printer beside her to print a confirmation of your next appointment. As the whirring of the printer filled the silence of the room you glanced over your shoulder to see the man with brown hair getting up and following a woman into a room. As he walked into the room first the women reached up to put a red slot down on the wall of the side of the door to indicate the room was occupied. Your eyes drifted to a sign on the side of the door labeled “Driving therapy”.
Staring at your ceiling,the fairy lights that adorned your room still cast a yellowish mellow tone as it was only 6 in the morning and you wanted some alone time before the stress of the day came—today marked the second week of the beginning of your senior year. Track season was here and you had in no fucking way looked forward to weekly 4 am practices on the field. Getting up and making your bed, showering, and picking out clothes from your closet. A fresh face of makeup and you were ready.
As a frank ocean song played from your speaker, you Looked in the mirror as you touched up your hair one last time. Appreciating the way you had physically evolved from freshmen year as you looked in the mirror at yourself. Maybe it was all the stress that uplifted from your shoulders knowing that in 6 months time, your life would start/.. The life YOU wanted. your phone buzzed on the bathroom counter next to you. Grabbing it and sliding up to unlock it, you saw the group chat come to life with you and your friends from track.
Everyone talking about how you were all telepathically connected because it seemed like every one of you woke up early, with the track flashbacks in mind. Sasha had texted something about how she genuinely thinks seeing her dirty-ass new balances in the corner of her room looming like a ghost gives her PTSD.
A good 10 minutes later, you were downstairs raiding the refrigerator, Just in time for you to hear a loud honk outside your home. You ran to your parents and gave them a kiss on each of their cheeks wishing them a good day. Their voices wishing you a good day at school, are cut off as you close your front door and rush to the passenger side of Sasha’s car.
Before a word could come out of your mouth, Sasha leaned over to the passenger's side and wrapped her arms around your neck giving you a hug that seemed like it was meant for goodbyes.
“What’s this about?” You said laughing nervously, patting her on the back.
“I can’t miss my best friend?.” She said letting you go, pulling out of your driveway. She rolled down the windows a bit to let the wind consume the car. Her auburn hair waving around her face.
“How did your driving lesson go yesterday? With your slow ass.” She glanced at you with a smirk on her face.
You scoffed and sighed. Leaning back into the passenger seat and looking out the window as the car passed the tower of pine trees on the side of the road. “ It was……good?. Let’s just say the instructors probably have never had to replace so many cones.”
“Oh no that was definitely on the agenda after i took my test.” She says.
A moment of silence passed in the car before your eyes found each other and you both burst out laughing. Before long you and Sasha were pulling up into the high school parking lot, finding a spot next to Annie and Historia. As Sasha pulled up you rolled down the window on the passenger side and waited for them to notice you. Annie was on the driver's side of her black jeep reapplying her lipgloss in the mirror. Historia was in the passenger side with her headphones in, scrolling on her phone.
“These bitches.” Sasha said, pulling out her phone.
You watched Historia roll her eyes as she looked at her phone and pulled down her headphones to rest on her shoulders, answering her phone.
“Hello?” She said on the other side.
“ Look to your left please and thank you .” Sasha said, while gathering her backpack out of the backseat. “And let me catch you rolling your eyes at my notification again bitch!”
You watched Historia look over to see you, a snide smirk enveloping her face. Sasha hung up the phone before the both of you could hear her witty comeback. Annie turned to you smiling and waving. You playfully looked around as if you were searching for the person she was waving at, as Sasha stuck her middle finger up to them from behind you. Annie smirked and mouthed “Let’s go”.
The first couple of periods of the day went by smoothly. The four of you had the majority of your classes together except electives. Historia had taken music appreciation, Annie took art and Sasha was taking culinary Arts.
Walking into the classroom designated for Plant science you scanned the room for familiar faces and smiled recognizing a familiar blond head in the back.
Armin waved you over and greeted you as you sat down and exchanged stories about your summer. Of course, the stories of your friend group going to the lake and bumming around the mall didn't match up to Armin’s extravagant trips to Europe, but nevertheless, it had its meaning.
You looked him over and noticed Armin’s features had gotten more sharp and he seemed to have more….body mass. You didn’t know how to put it but besides the trips, Armin had definitely spent some time in the gym.
You noticed the slight blush come across his face as he noticed you staring. “I-I’m thinking about joining the football team this year…”
You turned to him mouth agape. “What made you want to join in so late?”
He sheepishly smiled and started to play with the hem of his dark red long-sleeved shirt. “I just made it a goal for myself to get out and do something memorable when it comes to getting involved with the school. I-i mean we are about to graduate and all and I just feel like I haven't really done enough-”
You turn to him and dramatically place both of your hands on both sides of his shoulders and look him dead in the eye. Your face inches from his. “But you have Armin. You have done enough,” you said smiling.
Besides Armin running for class president freshman year and being secretary of two of the most well-rounded clubs of the school. Placing second in the mathematics UIL competition and won a $50,000 scholarship for writing an essay about why Spider-Man was his role model. If anyone in this school was an inspiration to you it was Armin. Even if it wasn't conventional, if he wanted to do something then he would do it diligently.
As you two continued to talk you watched the slew of students rush into the classroom as class was about to start, and that's when your heart did an unfamiliar flutter. Walking into the classroom was the man you had seen at your driver's lesson last night. Same tall and lean build, with black tattoos peeking out of his dark gray long-sleeved shirt that had rolled up to his elbows. Bundles of brown leather bracelets adorned both of his wrists. His hair was tucked into a bun, with strands of hair framing his face. Something you hadn't noticed when you had seen him last was the silver stud piercings that were placed on both sides of his nostrils. As he walked toward a seat on the opposite side of class from you he looked over the room and locked eyes with you. Again.
“Do you know him?” Armin said next to you, as he watched you break eye contact with the boy.
“No, I don't, he doesn't look familiar.” You said smiling sheepishly, looking down at your crossed arms on the desk.
Armin looked at you with a puzzled look on his face as he looked over at the boy with dark green eyes that never took his eyes off you. The boy’s Jaw became tense as he slowly diverted his gaze from you over to the front of the classroom. Even from a distance, Armin could see the boy visibly become rigid as if he had just remembered something from looking at you.
“I heard something about him moving here a couple of months ago from Jean,” Armin said reaching into his backpack and pulling out his laptop. “Apparently he played football at his old school, I don't know why he moved though.”
The teacher had turned off the lights and turned on the projector to show the class a film about germination to which you were barely able to pay attention too. Throughout the entirety of class, you caught yourself stealing glances at the boy. The light bounced off from the projector in the back of the classroom illuminating his side profile. Your rational mind telling you that he looked like every other alt boy in the school, but in all honesty, knowing if he turned to you and mouthed “Come with me, you would get out of your seat and be whenever he wanted you to be in a matter of seconds. The chorus of chairs scrapped across the floor as students got up and scurried out of class as it came to an end. You say your goodbye to Armin, pack up your things, and make your way out of the classroom looking everywhere but at who you wanted to.
#aot x black reader#eren x y/n#eren x reader#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titan x reader#aot x reader#aot drabbles#aot smut#aot#eren yeager#eren aot#high school#y/n#black reader#fanfic#fandom
139 notes
·
View notes
Note
Idk if it’s cause his face claim is Oscar Isaac but Ciro is taking up way more of my brain space than I think you intended. do u have any of his lore in your back pocket? a tragic backstory? who he had his kid with? were they in love?? IS HE HAPPY? anyways. i appreciate you and i hope you’re doing well!! sending love
Thank you so, so much! I'm starting to feel a bit more up finally, and my moods are leveling out I think!
And ABSOLUTELY! TEN PIECES OF CIRO LORE:
Ciro and his wife Elisa (Sophia's mom), were a Mobster Power Couple, and madly in love. She worked alongside him and ran various aspects of the business. She was cunning yet cheerful, loved classical literature like he did, and they had plans for a large family. They both figured if one of them died, it would be due to 'business'. Sadly she passed away incredibly suddenly from an aneurysm a few years after Sophia was born, leaving him a widower and a single father. His daughter for a time was the only thing keeping him going.
He's made a good recovery since then with some therapy and has found he loves being a dad and is quite happy running his businesses, criminal and not, though he spends a substantial amount of time worrying about Jane, and would be even happier if she were safe. But he definitely feels like he's doing what he was meant to do, and feels like God approves in his own way.
Romantically (something rarely touched on in TRT), he's had some flings and short-term relationships with various people after his wife passed, mostly women and a few men, but he hasn't had anything serious so far, in part because he's been so focused on Running The Empire and raising his daughter(s) (and other adopted stray feral murder children like Eli). Though if he finds his second special person, he'd be willing to consider something more serious.
At the time of TRT, he has five cats, all former strays because this man can never resist picking up the lost, human and animal, and there are a variety of cat rescues around Los Angeles that find themselves mysteriously funded by an anonymous donor.
He's decent at guitar and piano!
In TRT the incident where his childhood dog was killed by a boar is mentioned. In his attempts to rescue his dog, he got thrown aside into a tree - that injury caught up with him later, which is why Matt notices arthritis in his knee and an altered stance when scanning him over!
Ciro and Natasha Romanoff know each other through (sketchy) business and are on friendly terms.
He's the eldest of his siblings (1 brother and 2 sisters).
He didn't always plan on being a crime lord but after running face-first into some governmental/legal corruption as a teenager, his thought process was roughly along the lines of, 'I could do better than them.' He likes to think he's kept his promise - there are a surprising number of people in his city, especially in certain neighborhoods, who tend to look to the Ferryman's justice and authority first over the police or legal system. His punishments are often cruel, hard, and unforgiving, but if you follow his laws and keep your mouth shut, you generally don't have much to worry about, and because he minimizes collateral damage and invests in the neighborhoods (to encourage loyalty if nothing else), most are happy to look the other way.
He 'introduced' himself to SHIELD by mailing a few specific agents the tongues of HYDRA operatives, complete with coins, after those operatives attempted to Fuck Around in Los Angeles and quickly Found Out. One of those SHIELD agents happened to be Phil Coulson. The two have a bi-yearly, location-randomized coffee meetup, which is how Ciro wound up with Agent Thompson's card after Coulson vouched for her record!
#ciro leone#i love ciro and i have a mountain of backstory on him and basically no place in the story so it just sits here#in my head#i fully plan if i turn TRT into an AU book series one day#tehre will be a book or two JUST for Ciro because he deserves one#the red thread
54 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, thank you for the work you put into this blog. It might be a bit early, but are there any S2 fix-it recs yet?
Hi! We have a plentiful #fix-it tag now! Here are some more to add...
you're the victim of your crime by JustNerdyThings (T)
It's a simple decision, really. It's simple in the way things rarely are, in that it's not much of a decision at all. Whatever Aziraphale might stand to gain by staying in Heaven, it cannot possibly compare to what he's already lost down on Earth. So Aziraphale leaves. He miracles up his letter of resignation, pretends to clear out his still-empty desk, and leaves. And he hopes against hope that somehow, someday, Crowley might forgive him.
hungry work by CCs_World (E)
“You must understand,” Aziraphale had whispered. He was on the doorstep of the bookshop, months after his departure, looking in at Crowley — disheveled, both of them. Broken, both of them. Afraid, both of them.
Hopeful, both of them.
“I understand, Aziraphale,” Crowley had said back. They had stretched out a hand to Aziraphale. “Come on. Let’s think of a plan together.”
And they had. Somehow, miraculously, ineffably, a second apocalypse had been averted. Heaven and Hell were cut off. They were free — truly free. And they had all the time in the universe.
So, naturally, they left London.
OR: After the Second Coming does not Come, Crowley and Aziraphale move to the South Downs. However, living together is difficult when there are over 6000 years of tension between them - tension which must be resolved if they are to have their happily ever after.
Trembling with tenderness by HolRose (T)
When the former demon Crowley is surprised in his Mayfair flat by a visit from his erstwhile boss and their ex-Archangel partner asking for assistance, Crowley has that familiar sinking feeling that something he did in the past has come back to bite him on the arse.
When the current Supreme Archangel materialises in his flat shortly afterwards, Crowley knows the time has come for them to really talk at last. Just as soon as they’ve got rid of their visitors, that is.
A post Season 2 fix-it fic in which they communicate properly, and Aziraphale demonstrates just how crafty, and also loving, he can be. This is one for those who might like something genuinely soft and romantic after the ending to Season 2.
We'll make Heaven a place on Earth by arabellas_court (E)
Aziraphale unfolded the piece of paper slowly beneath the horrid lighting. He cleared his throat and looked around, the corners of his mouth faltering just a second when he landed on Crowley.
He looked down at the paper.
“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth—”
“Jesus Christ,” Crowley grumbled.
“No, dear, he came later, remember?”
------
Crowley knows his worth. He can't take Aziraphale back immediately after how hurt he's been. And for once, Aziraphale has to work for that forgiveness. Both of them are a mess. Both of them go to therapy—unexpectedly, together.
Angst with a happy ending.
Snogging on Heaven's Door by Tetrisbiene (M)
What if Aziraphale actually said, 'Do it again. Please. Right now!'? A Post-Season 2 Fanfic.
Aziraphale has to go to Heaven to thwart the Second Coming, and Crowley just can't let him go alone.
Follow the pair as they meet old and new faces, go to heavenly meetings, sow mischief, and tempt some angels to fall in love with humanity.
May the two find a flat surface to talk things over with each other before this big promotion can tear them apart.
This is the story of our ineffable idiots in a roller coaster ride of emotions, heavenly bureaucracy, and stolen kisses against doors. Have some angst, some stupid puns in the chapter titles, and an elevator ride that's basically an excuse for me to write a cheesy alternative ending to help me get over the actual finale.
In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you by sunrisesinthesuburbs (T)
Aziraphale stares back at the Metatron with renewed optimism. “I know where my loyalty stands, Sir,” he starts, even managing a small smile. “And I do not need to prove myself to them. When the Time comes, they will enjoy what I’ve been working on.” He sounds convincing, really. Honest, reliable and responsible.
Crowley decides this is a good time to whistle: “Someone’s getting all professional up here.”
Aziraphale dares to peep in his direction, hoping to convey with one brief look everything he is thinking about: ‘Shut up, will you? I’m trying to do something here.’ Crowley smirks, of course. He really is so annoying.
“Well, Aziraphale, you may not need to prove yourself to them,” the Metatron reaches for something inside his jacket, “but you need to prove yourself to me.”
Aziraphale fails Heaven's test (of course), and now he has to fix an even bigger mess. Throw a messy break up and a Second Coming in the mix and, somehow, you get a getaway car and a cottage in the South Downs. A lot can happen in a day. (Post Season 2; my very own attempt at fixing things.)
- Mod D
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐵𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠, 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒
Tagging: @augustwithquills , @bloody-mf-bsc
Liked by freddycarter1, benbarnes, vancityreynolds and 5,897,655 others
Y/N Y/L/N: This man unsettles me. Why the hell do you smile at me like a proud kid looking at his mom for praise?
We filmed the most gut-wrenching, soul-wrecking traumatic scene for your character.
You just know what you will be doing to the fans. You know their pain, and enjoy it and they are gonna come after you for therapy bills. Hope you are rich.
View 657,564 comments
User5: Freddy is just a sneaky cat. That's it. That's my comment.
User7: I don't wanna know the scene... yet again I have a guess .
User9: There is water... And Kaz's trauma includes water... We are, guys, once again...
User6: doomed. As usual.
User4: It's usual at this point, like I can't go on with my day without at least one tiny bit of drama
User3: Once again, mother Y/N is right. We all hope you are rich ASF Freddy.
freddycarter1: I could make Y/N pay for them?? She is the reason you guys cry
Y/N Y/L/N: don't bring me into this, Freddy. It's your fault, you have to deal with it. Or... I can tell your wife that you are bullying me😎
freddycarter1: you wouldn't dare! My wife loves me!
Y/N Y/L/N: Maybe... Not as much as me tho😉
User12: the way Y/N doesn't just conquer the women cast members' hearts but the male cast's wives as well...
User5: Teach us where this rizz comes from Y/N!
User6: Just Y/N and Ben casually making us fall in love with them
Liked by benbarnes, freddycarter1, amita_suman, jessie_mei_li and 6,573,435 others
Y/N Y/L/N: More memes!
1. Freddy is my one true love, and more attentive and mature and cares more about me.( this is definetly not my amazing,handsome, attentive and bullied boyfriend whom I should pay more attention to.)
2. This is what I was talking about! Look at hım and tell me you wouldn't immediately accept whatever mindblowing War crime he wants to commit together?
3. The only surprise element here is that I paid for the tickets... Even if they were the ones who went to to cinema.
View 566,564 comments
User1: Ben is being a gremlin again by taking her phone... Again.
Y/N Y/L/N: See? Everyone else is very mad at you benbarnes 😒
User5: Y/N show some love to poor boi 😭
User9: Ben is struggling so much djsjsh
User8: he is like a puppy following her around dnjd Have you seen the BTS of shadow and bone? He is always looming behind her and looking over her shoulder to get a glimpse 🥹🤭
User4: We love men who respects and shows his love openly to their lover😎
User6: Istg they want me to put a toast in the tub and live there like that by how cute they are being... look at her giggles and wide smile through her Insta posts after they got together and say otherwise
User9: They really are the best for each other and they are so cute, so supportive of each other and you can also see the Ben's grin is wider and shinier too!
User14: Being the "sugar mommy" of them is Y/N's fate now...
freddycarter1: I didn't hear any complaints from her.
User2: She has all the tittles now, the only one missing is... The Milf 💫
User14: That could change at any moment and we wouldn't know...
User3: 😳
Y/N Y/L/N: First all, no one can be like me... Or else you would be in constant hunger because you two can't cook to save your lives.
benbarnes: my cooking isn't that bad... Right?
Y/N Y/L/N: Could have been worse.
User6: Y/N does he use that kicked puppy eyes on you too?
Y/N Y/L/N: Whenever he wants kisses... Which means all the time. But I have no complaints, I love kissing hım.
User6: So it works?
Y/N Y/L/N: It works wonders.
Liked by benbarnes, freddycarter1,zendaya and 6,899,790 others
Y/N Y/L/N: Not my fault that they are living moods
1: Me, when they show me the most shocking, spectacular,eye-burning, gut-wrenching,soul-wrecking, traumatic script ever
2. Also me, whenever I look at my boys. And yes, though I always say I hate them here, I love them all so much. I'd probably commit arson for them if they asked but... Yeah.
3. Yes, you saw it right. He took my phone again 😑Like,why do you have your's if you always use mine?
View 678,768 comments
freddycarter1: does that script include us??
Y/N Y/L/N: I don't know...😳🤐
jacktwolfe: I say we give her candy she loves so she can't resist and then take the script and run away when she isn't looking 😊
Y/N Y/L/N: Jack what the fuck? Get out of your Wylan head.
User5: I'M BEGGING IN THE NAME OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR, Y/N HAVE MERCY ON OUR SOULS😭
User8: indeed, we finally saw that she had a heart and It's full of love for the boys too... Just not as much as the women
freddycarter1: mind you, this is the best thing that had ever been told to me... I STILL prefer Ben tho
Y/N Y/L/N: All my hardwork was for nothing... But legit anyways, I'd choose my baby too
User5: does it ever bother how Freddy is just you in another font, Y/N?
Y/N Y/L/N: He can do all he wants... I'm the only one who sees Ben in... different light🤭
User6: HOLY SMOKES-
User9: Y/N just casually dropping hints on their private life is just... Golden djsndbdv
User1: Fr she and Freddy are fighting for Ben's hand jddjjd
User7: Considering the rest of the books and knowing all the scenes by heart now... And adding Y/N cinematography...
User1: we're doomed.
User6: Will go and make a confession to the local church now, for the person I'll become when that happens
Y/N Y/L/N: Calahan is keeping me in a headlock so that I would backdown from my heart-tearing plans... I HAVE YOUR PICTURES WITH A TIARA AND TUTUS, FREDDY AND CALAHAN! Don't make me share them
User5: Poor Y/N... Keep doing it Calahan, just a few more minutes, I live close to her. I can just grab that script and run away
freddycarter1: benbarnes please leash your chihuahua of a girlfriend before we spoil your plans
Y/N Y/L/N: what surprise? Ben is planning something behind my back?? benbarnes, what do you have to defend yourself? 🤨
benbarnes: I will kill you when I'm done running from my girlfriend, Carter...
Y/NandBen.fanpage: GUYS GUYS GUYS, I THINK IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING OMG-
Liked by benbarnes, shadowandbone, amita_suman, jessie_mei_li, blakelively, tchalamet and 9,896,798 others
Y/N Y/L/N: GUESS WHO IS BECOMING A BARNES?🤭
Oh, and @ user3? You are a Seer, that's for sure. Thank you for calling dibs on our marriage, lovie!
And to everyone who always said we were cheaters: İt must SUCK to be with yall because you don't trust your lovers! 😎🫳🎤
View 998,789 comments
benbarnes: You are so beautiful, my ex-girlfriend...
Y/N Y/L/N: Stop saying that, idiot... And, oh... I am beautiful? 🥹🤭
User6: OMG CRYING, SHITTING TEARS WTF THIS IS SO CUTE DJDJSJS
User9: Y/N and Ben are both melting for each other and OMG I'm crying too 🥹
User5: for a fact, I just know that these two cried and still is crying tons while cuddling and reading our messages
Y/N Y/L/N: Do you have cameras in our house??
User7: SOMEONE MAKE SURE USER3 IS ALIVE BECAUSE GOD KNOWS I WOULDN'T BE IF BEN AND Y/N MENTIONED ME
User3: I'M INDEED NOT OKAY I'M ALIVE BUT BARELY BREATHING WTF I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS
User6: YOU ARE LIVING OUR DREAMS!! *shake shoulder harshly* HOW DOES IT FEEL LIKE TO BE THE IT GIRL?!
User8: Someone keep that fucking hater away from here or else there will be millions, including celebrities, who will throw hands!
User2: I think they will not be here because if mother Y/N dissed me like that, I would have found a hole and never get out.
User5: When I tell you I am at my granny's funeral and trying so hard to control my giggles... THE FIGHT IS REAL
User8: We have a holy knight here, hang in there sis! We still need to see their wedding photos!
User10: what's even funnier is that "Ben Barnes I hope you can fight" tag is trending in Twitter lol
blakelively: look at that excited smile! Finally, you are joining the married life! Welcome to club 🤭
User4: Today folks, we all can rest in peace for we achieved what we always wanted for 3 years 😌
amita_suman: beautiful people ❤️ Love you both so much!
freddycarter1: Does that mean we call her Barnes too?
jessie_mei_li: Yes, since they are the mom and dad 😒 Is that even a question?
kittheyounger: we are all united under one holy flag: The Barnes' Holy Kingdom
User15: After 3 years, Ben Barnes finally put that ring on her finger. A day to celebrate for years to come indeed.
tchalamet: Congrats to my favourite director!
Y/N Y/L/N: Don't let Greta hear that Ti 😉
tchalamet: she would say the exact same
User17: DAYUMN THAT RING IS THE SAME SIZE AS MY HEAD HOW RICH ARE YOU BEN?!
User16: Just like that, we achieved it. Now, there is one last thing needed: A mini Ben-Y/N
#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone series#shadow and bone fanfic#shadow and bone cast#shadow and bone#ben barnes x you#ben barnes x reader#ben barnes imagine#ben barnes#celebrity imagine#celebrity au#celebrity reader#celebs#celebrity#instagram au#fluff
206 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ceramic Lessons - Part one
Cillian Murphy X Reader - Masterlist
Summary: after much insistence from his sister, Cillian attends a ceramics class with her. To his surprise, he feels a connection to the teacher, you. Will this connection go any further or will it be smashed like a bad ceramic project?
Warning: nothing so far, this is a slow chapter.
A/N: this is my first time writing for Cillian, so a small reminder that this has nothing to do with his real life. I’m not sure where this is goin or if it is going anywhere but here it is. I`ve been going to some ceramic classes myself and let me tell you… it`s sexy as fuuuck.
English is my second language, so I apologize in advance for any grammar mistake
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
Cillian never imagined himself stepping into a ceramic studio on a Saturday morning. He was convinced to attend after much insistence from his sister Sile, and it was weariness that eventually persuaded him.
She had been attending the same class for a few months, and according to her, it was the best thing one could ever imagine. The connection with ceramics and the meditative state during the class provided her with some peace that no therapy ever could.
Cillian had gone through a divorce six months ago, leaving him emotionally strained. His siblings, Orla, Sile, and Páide, had been trying to help him cope, as it was a complicated divorce. However, he found solace in focusing on his work and being there for his son, which led him to isolate himself a bit. His siblings have been trying to get him out of that isolation, something that he admired (because it showed they cared) but never asked for.
Almost every Saturday, Cillian and his brother used to play poker, an activity he despised, but was forced to attend by his brother. Spending hours staring at cards and poker-faced men was far from his idea of fun. So, when his sister Sile kept praising the ceramics class, it began to seem not such a bad idea.
The studio was located in a serene corner of the city, surrounded by greenery, and the entrance door was a soft baby pink, contrasting with the white walls. It had no name calling you in, if you passed in front of it, you would never know it was a pottery class studio.
"Ready for the best experience of your life?" Sile asked excitedly as they walked towards the door.
Cillian smiled and replied, "Let's see."
The pink door swung open, revealing a spacious area with a wall adorned with glass doors that led to a small garden filled with large plants and some garden benches and tables. The rectangular space wasn't too wide or too deep, just the perfect size. It felt homy and welcoming.
An incense burned, filling the air with the scent of citronella, a fragrance Cillian wasn't sure he liked yet.
The studio's floor was made of burnished concrete, and the white walls were adorned with numerous shelves overflowing with various ceramic works.
In one corner of the room, Cillian spotted some equipment he recognized as a pottery wheel after watching a video of his sister creating a small vase. In another corner, workbenches were filled with an assortment of tools.
Cillian found himself standing in admiration for a minute, taking in the surroundings. Everything appeared chaotic yet perfectly organized at the same time.
On the veranda, around the tables and chairs, there were women chatting. Other women were scattered throughout the space, and a man was cutting and weighing the clay.
"Come on, let me introduce you," Sile said, pulling her brother's arm, and he went along with it.
The women greeted him and tried to hide their whispers and smiles, but someone who has been in the spotlight for many years could pick up on those nuances. He took a deep breath and decided to ignore the attention while answering a question from one of the women about his latest film.
After, another question followed and then another… Cillian wanted to escape from that place. He looked at his sister, who gave him an apologetic look and tried to change the subject, but it wasn't necessary.
"Alright, shall we?" a sweet and gentle voice interrupted, capturing the women's attention as they began to stand up. Saving Cillian from that interrogation.
Looking back, Cillian saw the woman whose voice it was. You, with your hair tied in a completely messy bun, wore loose, worn-out denim overalls with straps, and they were completely stained, which he assumed was clay. Under the overalls, you had a simple black workout top, and you were pulling pottery wheels to form a semicircle in the center of the room.
You seemed like a reflection of the studio—messy yet perfectly presented.
"This is our teacher," Sile whispered. "Isn't she beautiful?"
Cillian tore his eyes away from you and frowned at his sister, questioning her true intentions for bringing him here. It wouldn't be the first time Sile tried to set him up with someone.
"Come, let me introduce you," she said, pulling him by the arm again. This time, Cillian hesitated at first but allowed himself to be led by his sister.
"Y/n, this is my brother, Cillian," Sile introduced as they reached you.
With a gentle smile, you greeted him with a nod. Sile has been telling you for ages that she’s trying to convince Cillian to attend one of your classes. "Hi, Sile talks about you a lot. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Well, welcome to my class."
"The pleasure is mine," he replied, smiling. "Sile says this class is the best thing in her life right now, so I had to come and see for myself."
"Really? That's good to hear, Sile” you said genuinely happy “Oh, I guess we better protect your clothes from stains. Sile, please go to the kiln room and get an apron for your brother so he won't get his clothes dirty," you said, and Sile nodded leaving you both.
Looking around, Cillian noticed all the women putting on aprons and getting ready.
"Have you worked with clay before?" you asked him, and he shook his head.
“No, i haven’t" he answered
“Hm, I hope you enjoy it. Oh, don't get frustrated if you can't make anything you like today," you smiled "It's harder than it looks, but I’ll help you through it" you chuckled and turned your back, walking over to the man who was cutting the clay.
The man's name is Loui and he uses your studio to produce his art. As he is still a small artist, he doesn't have much financial return, so his way to pay you for the space is by helping you during the classes. He’s also quite a good friend and confidant .
As you talked to Lou, Sile returned with a black apron and handed it to Cillian.
"There was a hot pink one inside, almost took it, but felt sorry for you," she laughed.
"Good sign of character," he joked, putting on the apron.
"Come and get your clay," you said, handing a piece of clay to each person. "Today, we'll work with 300 grams. You can make plates, vases, or jars. So big pieces today guys" you explained to everyone
"Can we split and make two things?" one of the women who bombarded Cillian with questions earlier asked.
"No, Helena. We'll work with the whole piece of clay, stepping out of our comfort zone," you replied, and she nodded, a bit frustrated.
After everyone got their clay, they moved to the workbench, now covered with marble slabs, and began kneading the clay as if they were kneading bread dough.
You turned on your sound box and put on some nice lo-fi music before going to Cillian and explaining to him this step.
"This step is the most important," you said, standing next to him, who observed everything a bit lost. "We knead the clay to remove air bubbles and make it smoother. If there are bubbles, the piece might crack during firing. Let me show you how it's done." You took the ball of clay gently from his hand and guided him to the counter. "To avoid back pain, it's good to put your supporting foot forward and use your whole body to move." You began explaining and kneading the clay. "You make the movement with the palm of your hand pushing, and pulling with your fingers. It will form something like a cow's face." You made two holes in the indents of your palm and two on the side that wasn't kneaded. "See?" You asked with a smile, and he nodded, seeing that it indeed resembled a cow's face. "Now, your turn. Do it for about five minutes and you should be good" you left the clay on the table for him and watched him make his first move.
As usual, for someone who had never done it before, Cillian's movements were a bit off.
So, for him to feel the right movement with his wrists, you approached and pressed your hand on top of his.
"Let's go, without fear. You can press the clay harder. Don’t need to be gentle," you instructed.
Cillian was afraid to admit it, the moment your hands touched his, he felt himself blush. The choice of words were also a bit ambiguous, making him blush more.
With some instructions, you corrected him, and by the end of the five minutes, he was doing the movement almost perfectly.
"With practice, you'll get the hang of it," you said with a smile. "But now, it's good. Choose a pottery wheel and have a seat. I’ll be right with you."
Cillian followed your instructions and chose a pottery wheel to start his work.
“Liking so far?” Sile asked, sitting next to him.
“Better than poker” he answered making Sile smile “a little of an arm workout as well” Sile chuckled
“Yeah, where do you thinking I’ve been gaining all these muscles” she flexed her arms, showing off her biceps
“You are adorable,” Cillian said with a smile, not impressed by her biceps.
You finished helping one of the students set their clay on the wheel and went to give Cillian some attention.
You had to admit that having him in your studio was a bit weird. Yes, Sile has been telling you for ages that she would convince him to come, but to actually have him here, it’s weird.
I mean, he is Tommy fucking Shelby and now fucking Oppenheimer. Why the hell is he here in your tiny and messy studio? It was almost as if you felt intimidated by his presence.
Just treat him like any other student, you told yourself as you walked towards him.
As you approached him, he felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. Making his heart beat a little faster, a feeling that he weirdly enjoyed.
"So, what do you intend to make?" you asked, curious, while adjusting the wheel's position in front of him.
"I'm not sure yet. Maybe a vase," he replied, looking at the lump of clay in front of him.
"Going with the classic. Great choice. Alright girls, and Cillian” you chuckled as you were now, talking to everyone “now let's start rolling. Anyone needs anything, I'm here.” You turned to Cillian and sat in front of him on a tiny wooden bench. “You need some more attention. I’ll guide you step by step. Let's begin. First, wet your hands to prevent the clay from sticking," you suggested, showing him how to do it. "Now, place the clay in the center of the wheel and press lightly with your hands to secure it. Press the pedal, you will see it will start spinning. Adjust the speed on your feet as you feel more comfortable with it"
Cillian followed your guidance carefully, feeling the cool texture of the clay between his fingers. Slowly, he started shaping it, giving form to what would be the beginning of a vase.
"That's right, mold it slowly, feel the clay, and let it guide your hands," you encouraged him. “Now here, different from before, you have to be gentle, the clay won’t suport much pressure. Just feel it.” You explained to him.
Cillian followed your instructions, but it was indeed more challenging than he expected. Once he seemed to be doing good, you stepped away from his side, letting him explore the clay on his own.
The clay didn't quite follow Cillian's hand movements, and just when he thought he was getting the hang of it, the clay would break or warp in a way he didn't intend.
"Having a hard time there?" Sile asked, laughing, after Cillian gave a frustrated slap to the clay, trying to reshape it in the pottery wheel.
"I think I wasn't born for this, Sil" Cillian grumbled.
"Patience, bro," Sile said with a smile. "Ask y/n for help. She can assist you."
You were helping another student mold a large bowl, the biggest piece in the room. You applied pressure to the student's hand, which in turn shaped the clay.
The atmosphere in the room shifted between moments of conversation and laughter to moments of absolute silence, where everyone was fully focused on their work. This current moment was one of silence, and you were completely dedicated to assisting the student, appearing almost in tune with her.
Cillian thought about calling you over, but he preferred to keep observing you work.
Your face radiated with a large smile, even though it was now speckled with clay. You looked in your natural habitat, completely confident, happy. You looked like a genuinely happy person to him.
"I'm going to leave you now," you said to the student.
"No, I'm going to ruin everything!" She said, laughing. "Please, help me finish."
"What!? No way. You need to finish it on your own; you can do it," you chuckled.
"What if I mess everything up?" She asked, feeling insecure.
"Then you make another one," you replied. "Remember, with clay, you can always start over," you winked at her and gently removed your hands from the piece in front of you.
Walking around the room, you assisted another student before going over to Cillian, who was struggling to mold a not-so-promising sphere.
"Having difficulties?" You asked, sitting in front of him again.
His extremely blue eyes met yours, and for a second, you felt a flutter in your stomach that took your breath away. Little did you know that he felt the same.
"Yeah, I can't seem to get the clay to obey me," he replied after clearing his throat.
"Okay, do what you were doing. Let me see what we can improve," you said, and he nodded. He began to apply pressure to the clay, shaping it into a vertical cone.
He continued working on it as you observed his moves, analyzing his technique.
“Ok, i know I told you to be gentle, but try applying more pressure to your fingers, you have to maintain a steady motion, your fingers here are weak, they’re not doing much work” you advised, your voice calm and encouraging “here, excuse me. Let me show you” you place your hands over his, providing a subtle help. “Feel the clay respond to your touch, almost as if it’s guiding you, but at the same time you have to guide it, so no weak fingers” you smiled
Cillian couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. There was something about you that just made his blood rush faster through his veins.
It wasn't just the touch itself, but the way you looked at him with those warm and encouraging eyes that sent shivers down his spine.
In that moment, the sensation of your hand on his felt intimate. almost as sexual tension grew between the both of you. He assumed this feeling might have been a projection of his own desires, a reflection of the void left by his recent divorce. But he couldn't deny the way his heart skipped a beat when your hand touched his.
The way his eyes intensely locked onto yours, and the subtle lingering touches exchanged during the process, sent shivers through your body as well.
You tried to focus on the task at hand, helping him shape the clay, but your heart raced with every brush of your fingers against his.
This had never happened before in your classes, and you'd had many male students before.
You tried to push those feelings aside, reminding yourself to be professional, but you found yourself drawn to him in a way that surprised and excited you.
With your guidance the clay finally started to get a nice vase shape and you broke contact with him completely. After breathing deeply you smiled
“I think you’ve got it now” you said and he cleared his throat and nodded
“Yea, thank you” he answered almost in a whisper
You stood and went to the kiln room, to get a glass of water.
You felt like you needed a break after an intense moment like that and wondered if he felt the same, or if it was your simple desire for that hot Hollywood star.
"So, did you like it?" Sile asked her brother after the class ended.
She was placing her vase on the shelf. She had done a much better job than him, her vase was almost perfect. Each student had a designated space on the shelf where their sculptures were left to dry.
"I liked it," he replied, taking off the apron.
"Are you coming back next week?" She asked, with excitement in her eyes, happy at the idea of having her brother with her during the classes.
"I think so," he answered, his gaze fixed on you as you praised one of the students for their work.
Sile did a little dance of joy. "We need to ask y/n to make some space for you on the shelves," she said excitedly and went to talk to you.
After Sile told you that her brother would continue with the classes, you looked at him, smiled and approached.
"I'm glad to know you liked it," you said. "The vase turned out well."
"It was a good challenge... and the vase is mediocre. Leaning to one side and squashed on the other," he laughed.
"It's great for a first project, Cillian," you smiled. "Let me make some space around here," you said, and began to rearrange the shelves.
Upon closer inspection, Cillian noticed that each shelf had a name written on it. Judging by the number of shelves, it seemed like you had many students.
You took the vase from him and showed him where his shelve would be.
“I must say i’m happy to hear we will meet again next week” you told him and he smiled
“So am I” he told you, with his piercing blue eyes locked on yoursl, once again making your body go through weird waves of excitement.
Shit, is that his super power? you asked yourself.
You thanked everyone for their presence and you wished them a happy weekend as you went on helping Loui clean the studio for the next class.
#cillianmurphy#cillian murphy#cillian series#cillian x fem!reader#cillian fluff#cillian fic#cillian x y/n#cillian one shot#cillian x reader#peakyblinders#tommy shelby#peaky blinder fanfic#thomas shelby#oppenheimer
231 notes
·
View notes
Text
miss americana & the heartbreak prince (b.r.b.)
note: if this fic looks familiar to you... well, that's because it's been here before. and the response was less than kind but i've cleaned a house a bit since then so it's coming back. remember that this fic is told with intertwining timelines and if you have something mean to say you'll get blocked. enjoy the read (or re-read!) :)
summary: The year Bradley left and the year he returned.
same mistakes
warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions, my general same mistakes warnings
word count: 4.9k
“It’s been a long time coming/it’s me and you”
You slip out into the warm September air from Sarah’s car.
“Bye! Have a good-”
The door shuts as you tug your bag higher on to your shoulder. You take a deep breath, beginning the walk down the stairs to the courtyard.
Almost immediately, the whispers begin.
“Did you hear-”
“Bradshaw won’t speak to her anymore-”
“Feel kind of bad-”
“How could she-”
“I hear her Dad put her into therapy-”
“Heard she kinda lost it-”
“Bradshaw is better off-”
You squeeze your eyes shut, willing to block the words out.
They didn’t know a single thing about you nor your family. They just knew what Bradley had reveled in telling them, with no care to the fact that you had to come back to this place.
You feel someone watching you, causing your eyes to fly open. Across the hall is Sienna and Ben, Matt and Madison, Andrew joining them from around the corner. And there, at the head of the group, is Paige.
Just a year younger than her older brother Lucas, Paige was someone who had spent so much time in your house. Where Bradley went, Lucas followed, and where Lucas went, so did Paige.
While Lucas graduated the year before with Bradley, you and Paige were in the same class together, had been since their family, also Navy, relocated to the Miramar base in the 4th grade.
Paige, who’d sworn she'd be caught dead before hanging out with the likes of Sienna and Ben, after you’d caught Ben cheating on you with the girl who was supposed to be your best friend just less than six months prior.
The bell ringing, signaling the need to head for your homeroom, does nothing to alleviate the weight of the year that you know is in front of you.
-
Bradley squeezes your hand as you walk up the steps of the house (read: mansion) April had rented for her birthday.
“You excited?”
You shrug, stepping closer to Bradley as an ocean breeze blows through.
“Are you?”
He nods. “It’ll be fucking amazing to see everyone. It’s been a few years since the whole group has been together. I mean I’ve seen Lucas and Paige any time we’re all in town, and Morgan has finally re-located back here, but I haven’t seen Andrew in like six or seven years.”
You swallow, feeling your nerves grow as you walk up the stone steps.
It felt like you were walking towards the death sentence of your relationship, uncertain about what (or rather, who) you would face on the other side of that heavy oak door.
Bradley rings the doorbell as he says, “Actually, Andrew texted me to ask if I was bringing you.”
Your stomach drops as you hear movement on the other side of the door. “Why?”
He shrugs. “The dude’s always been nosy. I think-”
You never know what Bradley is going to say as the front door opens, revealing a grinning April.
“Bradshaw!” She shouts, pulling him into a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Happy to be here.” He says, words muffled into the girl’s shoulder. She lets him go, her smile equally as blinding when she sees you.
“You actually brought your girlfriend. Was starting to think you were hiding mini Mitchell away from us.”
She pulls you into a hug of her own, but it’s not fast enough, you catching Jameson Hall over her shoulder as he pokes his head around the wall to see who’s arrived.
You don’t miss the way his eyes widen and the way he chokes on his drink.
-
“Maybe you should join the cross-country team, I know tryouts are this Tuesday.” Ice says nonchalantly over dinner.
You raise an eyebrow. “Why?”
He shrugs. “It’ll be good for you to get out of the house, focusing on other… things.”
He says things in such a way that you know really means Bradley but no one was really willing to discuss his absence, not since that last night at Ice and Sarah’s.
“Plus, didn’t you get into running after seeing that grief counselor?”
Your Dad had put you and Bradley both into grief counseling when Carole passed in the spring, but you’d only gone for three sessions before seeing the old dude with an office that smelled like fish and a receding hairline had gotten to be too irritating as he tried to tell you how you were supposed to feel.
The only thing that had come out of the sessions was the suggestion of picking up an activity that allowed you to decompress and focus on other things. And you leaned into running, something that Slider teased you for doing willingly.
They didn’t need to know that every time you went a run, you went running to see if this would be the time you’d run so far you never came back.
“I’ll think about it.”
-
“Thanks for inviting us, April.” Bradley says, the girl shutting the door behind you as the two of you step into the foyer.
“Of course, I’m happy you guys came. You guys are earlier than the rest, you know how it is. Angelina and Jameson are in the living room-” She pauses as you both see the ill-hidden twitch of Bradley's lips. She holds up a hand, cutting off whatever he’s going to say. “Save it, Bradshaw. I already know.”
He shrugs. “Good.”
“Anyways, they’re in the living room and Alex is in the kitchen. Morgan and Paige are out by the pool, and Lucas and Andrew are on their way. I invited Ben and Sienna as well-”
Now, it’s your turn to raise any eyebrow. “April, that’s not funny.”
She gives you a weird look. “I wasn’t kidding, I-”
You sigh, letting Bradley’s hand fall. “I need alcohol if I’m gonna deal with the two of them.”
“Oh, c’mon, it was like two decades ago-”
“April.” Bradley says sternly as you turn, walking through the door next to you, avoiding the living room.
It takes you a few minutes to find the kitchen in the house, Alex perking up when you do.
“Hey mini Mitchell-”
“Why the hell did April invite Ben and Sienna?”
The question is rhetorical as you wrench the fridge door open, but Alex sighs. “Because my little sister has always cared more about being liked than being a decent friend. Hey, I hear you and Bradshaw are finally together. Congrats, that’s a long time coming.”
“Shut up Alex.” You mumble, popping the can open.
-
Your skin is sticky with sweat, but even that can’t stop the little skip in your step as you fish through your bag for your car keys.
You weren’t sure why you’d ended up trying out for the cross-country team like Ice had suggested, but it had felt so good to hear that you’d made the team.
Sure, they kind of accepted everyone who could run a decent mile pace but you aren’t sure that really mattered to you.
You finally had something that was yours.
Someone calls your name and you turn, catching sight of Morgan, the captain of the cross-country team for the last three years.
She offers you a beaming smile, tossing her bag into the back of the truck. “Congrats on making the team.”
You run her smile, feeling your cheeks go a little warm. “Thanks.”
She nods. “I’m glad you tried out. We don’t get a lot of upper-classmen trying out and I bet it can be kind of intimidating trying out for the team as a senior.”
You shrug. “Well, my godfather kind of suggested it. He thinks I need an activity, so…”
Her eyes are filled with mirth as she lets out a little laugh. “Makes sense. Say, uh, the other seniors and I are going to get ice cream. Would you want to join us?”
You begin to rock back and forth on your heels. “I don’t know…” You trail off, unsure if the invitation was genuine or a nicety.
Morgan was a leader as much as she was kind, why she had earned the role of Captain as a sophomore. She’d never let anyone feel unwelcome or excluded.
She shrugs. “It’s up to you, but we’d love to have you. If not, you should at least join us at the team barbeque at my house this weekend.”
You swallow. Dad was all about you making new friends and Sarah was always encouraging you to give people a shot so- what did you have to lose?
“Yeah, why not? My homework can wait a few more hours.”
-
You can hear people filling up the house as you stand in the kitchen, avoiding leaving and seeing people you’d rather not.
“Hey.” Alex whispers, glancing back out towards the source of the sound. “Now, you didn’t hear this from me, but Jameson filed for divorce last weekend. They haven’t told anyone yet.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Wait, why?”
Alex drops his voice even lower. “Apparently, Angelina slept with one of the Chippendales dancers on a trip to Vegas a few months ago. Jameson just found out.” Your eyes widen at the information and Alex nods. “Yeah, sometimes how we get them is how we lose them. C’mon, let’s go join the group.”
You follow Alex, despite the fact that you’re still reeling. “How am I supposed to pretend to be normal?”
He shrugs. “Just play along.”
The two of you don’t get very far before you’re intercepted by someone who looks oddly familiar to you, Bradley at her shoulder.
You blink.
-
“Senior night is tonight?” Your Dad asks as you step off the last step. You wince, turning to face him, the letterman jacket you’d be instructed to wear suddenly feeling too heavy.
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? This is so exciting-”
“I didn’t think you’d have time to go.”
He deflates at the flat tone in your voice, the paper crinkling in his fingers. “Well, I’d- I’d like to go if you want me there.”
“If you want.”
“Are- are you leaving right now?”
You nod, feeling the keys grow sweaty in your hand as you stare at your Dad, who seems to be growing smaller.
“Yeah. The meet is at 4, senior celebration at 6.”
“Well, I- uh, why don’t I meet you down at the school?”
“Sure Dad.”
-
“Hey!” The girl says brightly.
“Hi?”
A soft smile plays on her face. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Bradley sighs, taking your hand. He intertwines your fingers, the rough calluses of his palm comforting you as he does. “You remember Janie, yeah?”
Alex lets out a laugh and an “Oh shit.” from his place next to you, lifting his hand to try and hide it.
“Have you ever thought about minding your own business Alex?” Janie asks, a smile still on her face.
“Have you ever known me to?” He shoots back. “But, alas,” he sighs, “I have enough respect for these two to start now.”
Alex disappears into the crowd, as Bradley’s grip on your hand tightens.
“I was just telling Bradley how happy it made me to hear that the two of you were finally together.”
Janie and Bradley had started dating just weeks before Carole had shared her diagnosis with the two of you. She’d tried to see him through it, coming to the hospital and cooking and getting his missing homework assignments, but after months of things getting worse with no end in sight, she’d broken up with him.
In hindsight, Bradley hadn’t even been all that sad, saying it was a mutual decision, that he needed to focus on his Mom before he could focus on a girlfriend.
“I always kind of hoped, you know, that after Brad and I broke up, that the two of you would figure things out. I always knew you liked him.”
You swallow. “Janie-”
“No, no, it’s okay!” She exclaims, waving a hand. “Really. Even then, I knew, and honestly, I was okay with it. The two of you were meant for each other. It wouldn’t have been right if it had been me and Bradley who’d ended up together. It was always meant to be the two of you. ‘Bout broke my heart when I heard the two of you weren’t speaking to each other.”
“Thank you, Janie.” You tell her honestly. “That’s- that’s incredibly kind of you to say.”
“Well, I mean every word of it.”
“Yo, Bradshaw!” Someone shouts and all three of you turn to the sound of voices entering the crowded living room.
Bradley’s face lights up, his hand leaving yours as he goes to hug the man. “Andrew!”
“God, you’d think they were dating.” You mutter into your drink, earning a chuckle from Janie.
-
You and your Dad walk in silence out to your separate vehicles. Any conversation he’d tried to start after the meet had been ignored, you desperate just to get home after seeing who’d be in the crowd tonight.
Why couldn’t they all just fucking leave you alone? You hadn’t done anything, not to them, not to Bradley. They didn’t even like cross-country-
“Hey.” Morgan calls, followed by the sound of a car door opening. “Mitchell.”
You swallow as you turn, gripping your track bag.
“Hi Morgan.”
She watches you with guarded eyes, leaning up against the side of her truck. “You know, when you tried out for the team, I wasn’t sure what to expect. You know, Bradshaw didn’t have a whole lot of nice things to say about you, so I’m pleasantly surprised by how you’ve done this season.”
Your eyebrows furrow as you take a step closer. “You know Bradley? I didn’t know that.”
She nods. “Friends since freshman year.”
Horror dawns on you as your stomach drops. “And you ran to him the minute I joined the team. Everything that I’ve told you this season, everything I’ve confided in you this season as my friend, you turned around and told him?”
As Morgan more or less confirms your words, it feels like the bottom is falling out on your life. You swallow down the nausea rising in your throat, the burning feeling making it all worse.
“Why would you do that? Why would you do that to me?”
“Oh, mini Mitchell.” Andrew sighs, from behind you. “Always with that victim complex of yours.”
-
“So is it true?” Andrew says with a grin as he pulls away, leaving his hands on Bradley’s shoulders.
“Is what true?”
“You and mini Mitchell, man! Did the two of you finally make it happen?”
Bradley chuckles as he nods. “Yeah, yeah, she came with me tonight.” He takes a few steps back, nodding to you as he does. Andrew’s face lights up, hand outstretched as he does.
“Mini Mitchell! How’ve you been?” Your eyes flicker down to his hand and back up to his face.
“You really expect me to shake your hand, Andrew? Really, after everything?”
His face falls, confusion taking over. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I remember the last thing you had to say to me not being very kind.”
“Damn, it’s been like twenty years, can you not let that shit go? You hold a grudge as bad as Bradshaw. Then again, he’s fucking you, so I can kinda see why he let that go.”
Your eyes narrow as they shoot over to Jameson.
Why in the world was he choosing to get involved?
“Jameson, isn’t your wife cheating on you?” You ask, tilting your head. He falls silent, shrinking back into the couch. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.”
-
You turn, spotting Andrew leaned up against his car. His trunk is open, where Ben and Sienna are sat, Paige next to them. Lucas is leaned up against the opposite side of the car.
You shake your head, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m being ambushed in the parking lot of my own senior night.” You say miserably, throwing your hands up in the air.
“Bradley has had one hell of a lot to say about you.” Lucas comments, folding his arms.
“You guys used to be my friends.”
“Kind of hard to be friends with someone as awful as you.” Paige responds. You can do nothing but look at them, tears already trickling down your face.
This felt like betrayal in the worst way.
And it was all Bradley’s fault.
“Look, the bottom line here, mini Mitchell, is that you’re just a bitch. You’ve done the worst things you could do to someone and you’ve never once taken accountability or responsibility for what you’ve done to him. You’ve never once apologized and you just expect us to let that all go?” Andrew heaves a dramatic sigh, pushing himself off his car. “Then again, everyone has always liked him more than we liked you. You’re like a leech we can’t get rid of. Life-sucking.”
Your feet move before you give them permission, turning as your Dad calls out. Your tears are burning, same as your chest, as you slam your car door shut, throwing your bag into the back with little care as a sob bubbles out.
-
“Whoa, the tension is high in here.” Ben jokes.
Your throat grows tight at the sandy-haired boy, the shiny ring on Sienna’s finger. Bradley steps back, pressing a hand to your shoulder.
April huffs. “This is what I get for having friends who can hold a grudge like nobody’s business.”
Sienna laughs lightly, moving to give the girl a hug. The tightness in your throat blossoms into your chest as Sienna’s vision pivots to you.
She says your name softly, offering you a smile. “Would it be wrong to give you a hug?”
“Twenty years no apology from you and you want a hug.”
Your voice crackles somewhere along the way as you cross your arms, hoping to protect yourself from her.
“Don’t tell me you're still mad about that.” Ben says.
“How could I not be? My best friend fucked my boyfriend while one of the people who raised me was lying in a hospital bed dying of cancer.”
“Well, if you aren’t gonna put out sweetheart, you shouldn’t be surprised I found it somewhere else.”
Your body fully recoils at Ben’s words, disgust ripping through you.
“Fuck you. You have no idea what I’ve been through, how badly what you did fucked me up. I did not deserve that.” You say emphatically, tears tracking down your face. You wipe at them to little avail, before straightening up. “Fuck this, I’m a fucking one percent Navy pilot, I don’t deserve this-”
“I mean, don’t you?”
It all goes silent in the room as everyone looks at Paige.
“I mean, it’s not exactly like the Navy’s fond of you. There’s a reason why your old team hated you so.” She says, a coy smile playing on her lips. “There’s a reason why that all played out the way it did. You’re no victim in all this, sweetheart.”
“Paige, shut up.” Bradley’s words are sharp. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. You know nothing.”
She smirks. “I’d bargain I know a hell of a lot more than you do. And I’m sure that we’ll be able to talk about all of that, when you realize what the rest of us do that this won’t last-”
“Okay, wait, that’s enough-” April intervenes, but it’s too late, you already shouldering past the people in the house.
You’re trying to gulp for air when you finally make it outside, fighting off the sobs.
Bradley’s only a few steps behind you, offering hurried apologies. You shake your head, desperately swallowing around the lump in your throat.
“Please just take me home Bradley.”
-
You’re unable to stop the flow of tears as you dial the number scrawled out in Ice’s handwriting on the scrap piece of paper.
Ice had tracked down a number for “emergency purposes” though you aren't sure how. Still, now though, it didn’t matter as you sink to the floor of Ice’s study, unable to take it anymore.
You hear the line come alive and a muffled, groggy “Hello?”, a voice you never thought you’d hear again.
“Bradley.” You whimper. “I want you to come home. Please come home. I don’t want to fight any more. No one is gonna win here. Please, please, please God, please just come home.”
You hiccup as your sobs catch up to you and you think you can hear him let out a breath from the other side.
“Please B, I’m so sorry for whatever it is I did, please you have to believe me. Plea-”
The line goes dead.
-
“Why are you people always in my house?”
Fanboy turns, grinning at you as he clutches the spatula. Bob is next to him, stirring something on the stove. Your eyes flash over to Javy, who’s sitting at the kitchen table.
“You know when I gave you a key, this is not what I intended.”
“We’re making you breakfast, at least try to be grateful.”
You roll your eyes, giving him a look before joining him at the kitchen table.
“So how was the party last night?” Bob asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel.
You make a displeased sound in your throat, shaking your head. “Awful.”
“What happened?”
“Just… stupid shit. A bunch of kids from my high school were there, including these two Navy brats I grew up with and one of them said something kind of fucked.”
“What’d they say?” Bob asks curiously.
“Just something to the extent that I deserved what I got from my old team.”
Bob shakes his head while Fanboy pulls a face.
“Where do you keep finding these people?” Javy asks incredulously.
“They’re Bradley’s friends.” You say with a shrug, watching Bob and Fanboy turning back to the stove.
You realize belatedly they’re making eggs benedict, a favorite of yours.
“What did they say?” Javy asks, his voice a little lower.
You shake your head, signaling to him that you don’t want to talk about it. You chew your lip for a few minutes before you lower your voice, watching Bob and Fanboy carefully.
“I did some digging last night on the girl who said that, where she’d been stationed where she might have heard about that.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Javy nod, showing you that he’s listening. “Her brother has always worked as an engineer, followed in their Dad’s footsteps, but she went a different route and worked in communications.” You swallow, looking at Javy. “She was there, on that aircraft carrier when we went down. She knew what they did.” You all but whisper as the pieces fall into place on his face. “It’s all still following me.”
-
The dinky little cell he’d gotten when moved out to UVA buzzed against his cheek. He blinks a few times, barely lifting his head up from the pillow to glance at the screen.
He didn’t recognize the number, but he knew the 619 area code meant it was a San Diego number.
He felt a tug in his gut against his better judgment and answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Bradley.” She whimpers. “I want you to come home. Please come home. I don’t want to fight any more. No one is gonna win here. Please, please, please God, please just come home.”
Please don’t cry, he thinks. Please don’t cry, because if you cry, I’ll cry-
She hiccups from the other line and his chest begins to ache.
He lets out a breath, mind whirring as he searches for something to say to her to make it all better.
“Please B, I’m so sorry for whatever it is I did, please you have to believe me. Plea-”
And then he remembers.
His fingers move before his heart realizes it, ending the call.
The screen goes dark as he slumps back against his pillows.
-
You hear the Bronco before you see it and you hear Bradley before you see him.
You’re standing in the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes from breakfast, the boys long gone.
You pause in your movements, as you wait for Bradley to say something, but he doesn’t.
“B?” You toss out cautiously, setting the soapy sponge down. “Is that you?”
He appears in the kitchen a moment later, looking haggard, though you can’t say that you probably fare much better at the moment.
“I’m so sorry.” He whispers hoarsely. “So sorry.”
Your eyebrows furrow as you wipe your hands off on a dishtowel, walking over to him.
“What? What are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry that I hung up on you that night. You were in so much pain and I- I had no idea how awful they were to you. I had no idea what they had been saying and- and- and- here you were asking for help and I just ignored you. I was being selfish and I-”
“Bradley.” You whisper, reaching out for him. “What- Where is any of this even coming from? I’m not angry at you for that any more, you know that.”
“But I’m angry at me. And you should be too. What I did was fucked up and you just forgave me-”
“I did not forgive you overnight, you know that.” Your eyes search his, finally deciding to take his hand and intertwine your fingers. “B, I’m- I’m kind of lost. Where is any of this coming from?”
He heaves, his chest shuddering. “April called me this morning. Apologized profusely for how last night went, that she knew better than to stick you in that room with those people, that she should’ve known how badly they hurt you. But I didn’t- I didn’t know about them-” His breath keeps catching on his words and your concern grows. “I didn’t know about them showing up at your senior night.” He finally lets out in a hushed whisper. “I didn’t know.”
Your face falls as you squeeze his hand. “Let’s- let’s go sit on the couch.”
Bradley nods and you follow him out to the living room. He wipes at his eyes before sitting on the couch, you following behind him.
“I didn’t know what Andrew said. I had no idea they’d shown up there to taunt you. I- I- I- never would have let them get away with saying it.”
“They weren’t the only ones saying it.” You whisper. “Bradley, they just repeated what the whole school was.”
“And it was all my fault-”
“Bradley.” You say sternly. “I’m not going to sit here and say you don’t carry some responsibility in how it all played out. But I forgave you for all that. Neither of us were kind to each other in those years, you have to know that. I carry just as much responsibility as you do. And you’ve apologized, recognized that you hurt me. I’m not mad anymore.”
“So you can forgive me, but not them?”
“For the record, none of them except Morgan has ever offered me an apology. So I don’t know why I'd forgive them for things they aren't sorry for. Second of all, they have done and said things to me that you would never dream of doing and that’s what sets you apart. And yeah, maybe they’re right that I do know how to hold a grudge. I know that I hold what Ben and Sienna did to me a little too close to my heart, that them turning their backs on me cut deep. But I don’t hold that against you.”
Your fingers rest in Bradley’s curls as he sniffs. “I should’ve been there-”
“You’re here now. That’s what matters to me.” You take his hand again with your free one, gently kissing his knuckles as you do so. “I love you.”
His eyes water before he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing. “I love you too.”
You smile softly at him, pressing another kiss to his hand. “I know.”
The two of you sit there for a few minutes before you sigh. “Fanboy and Bob broke into my house to make eggs benedict this morning and there’s some leftovers I just put in the fridge. I can warm you up some if you haven’t eaten yet-”
“I don’t want you to think that we aren’t going to last.”
You pause, halfway up from the couch. “What?”
“What Paige said last night. That they think we aren’t going to last. I don’t think that and I don’t want you to think that either.”
You falter, sitting back down on the couch. “I-”
“It was bullshit and it’s not what I believe. I want us to last, more than anything else in this whole world. I know it’s only been just over a year but-” Bradley takes a shuddering breath. You’re my best friend in the whole world. I want you as long as you want me here and I know we’ve had our shit over the last year, we’ve had our fights and our people from the past but I don’t care about any of that as long as it’s you and me.”
“It’s always gonna be you and me.” You pause before sighing dramatically. “Well, maybe you, me, and a dog. If that’s okay.”
The corners of his lips twitch upwards, giving you a ghost of a smile. “Perhaps.”
#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw fic#top gun: maverick#top gun: maverick fic#same mistakes
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
family ties
summary: you decide it's finally come out to your parents.
pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem!Reader
tw: homophobia/biphobia, angst
words: 2.26k
a/n: it's my birthday, yay! here is a slightly birthday-themed post. this one hits me a bit hard but mostly because it largely stems from my own insecurities. anyways, y'all love your angst, so I figured I would supply.
*I am not paying for y'alls therapy, reader discretion is advised
You sat in your car outside the small two-story house. Its brown walls and open windows seemed to mock you, tall and daunting. Of course, it wasn’t the house that set your nerves on edge, your anxiety growing the longer you sat, it was what lay inside. Your parents.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jenna asked, watching you worriedly from the passenger seat.
No. You didn’t want to do this. You’d rather go back home and binge-watch TV with Jenna for the rest of the night. But what would life be if not for making hard choices?
“Not really. But I need to.” You grimaced, thinking about what horrors the night might bring.
“I’ll be right here the whole time,” Jenna interlocked your fingers with hers, doing her best to reassure you.
“Thank you, baby,” You brought her hand to your lips, kissing the back of her knuckles.
You knocked on the front door, pushing it open without waiting for anyone to answer it. It was your childhood home after all, and you knew your parents wouldn’t mind.
“Mom? Dad?” You stepped into the hallway, Jenna following just behind you.
“y/n?” Your mom appeared from around the corner, your dad just a few steps behind her.
“How are you, baby?” She held out her arms for a hug, which you fell into.
“I’m alright,”
“Good! Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Mom,”
She finally let you go, her eyes catching Jenna standing just over your shoulder. “Jenna, darling, so good to see you again!”
You let the two of them do their thing while you greeted your dad.
He pulled you in for a hug, patting you on the back, "Happy birthday, kiddo,"
"Thanks, Dad,"
Your dad was more on the quiet side, unlike your mom who was very much a social butterfly. He was usually the more relaxed one, which you often found comfort in.
The sound of conversation mixed with that of clinking silverware. Dinner had been served and everyone was catching up. Your parents were currently talking off your girlfriend’s ear, interrogating her on her up-and-coming projects.
But you weren't paying them any attention. Your eyes were dead set on the table, lost in your own world of thoughts. Would they be mad? Disappointed? Upset? Of course, they would be upset, this was going against everything they believed in... Would they call you names, or just shun you altogether? Would they throw you out? Cut you off? Not that you relied on them much anymore financially, but still, they were your parents...
"Earth to y/n, hello?" Your name being called brought you back from your spiraling thoughts. You looked up to find everyone looking in your direction. Jenna was shooting you a worried look, her hand intertwining with yours underneath the table.
"Oh, sorry," you apologized, hoping to brush off the awkwardness that clung to the air.
"Where'd you go, kiddo? We lost ya there for a second," your dad said with a chuckle, taking another bite of his food.
"Just thinking," you squeezed Jenna's hand, hoping your parents wouldn't notice how anxious you were. Your knee was bouncing up and down under the table, you nearly felt sick from all the worrying.
"Thinking about what?" Your mom asked.
Of course, she wanted to know. Ever so the nosy one, always needing to be in everyone's business.
"Um," should you tell them now? You looked at Jenna, wishing you could read her mind and know what she was thinking, but she only looked at you with that same curious glance.
Fuck it. What do you have to lose... besides everything... "Actually, I- um. There's something I want to tell you both..."
You could practically feel the blood pumping through your veins, your hands shaking violently under the table. Your heart felt like it might burst from how fast it was beating. It's now or never...
"Okay?" Your parents exchanged curious glances, the two of them wondering what could possibly be so important to have you acting so oddly.
Fuck. Where to start? What to say? Your mind was reeling. Everything felt like it was too much. But you had to do this, you couldn't avoid it forever.
You took a deep breath in an attempt to calm your nerves, but that didn't stop the words from rushing out of your mouth, "Jenna and I are dating. We've been in a relationship for two years now."
The room was dead silent. The only noise coming from the rain outside and the air conditioner quietly whirring in the background.
Both you and Jenna were eyeing your parents, waiting for some kind of reaction.
"What?"
Both your parents wore blank expressions. You almost wished they weren't, that they'd have some kind of emotion on their face, that way you could tell if they were upset or not. But a blank face was debatably better than an angry one.
"I'm dating Jenna." You said it again, not nearly as fast this time and with a little more confidence.
More silence. It hung in the air like a thick smog, suffocating you as it squeezed the breath from your lungs. The longer you had to wait the less you could sit still, nearly shaking in your chair out of anticipation.
"Is this a joke?" Your mom’s voice held a dangerous tone, one you'd learned meant trouble over the years.
"No." You made sure to keep your voice flat, hiding how you truly felt inside.
You knew what was coming. Despite your hopes that they might actually care, that they might actually love you, you knew the truth. Your parents would never accept someone like you as their daughter. You would've been better off if you'd told them you were a murderer.
"Get out." Your mother refused to meet your eyes, staring down at her plate instead. She had said it quietly and calmly, but you could see past that cool exterior, you could see the storm raging inside. She was furious.
"What?" Jenna spoke up, looking between your mother and father.
She couldn’t believe it. Your parents had always been so welcoming, so warm to her. You had always acted like such a happy family, and she was just going to kick you out?
Your mom’s eyes snapped up, glaring daggers at Jenna, "I said. Get. Out."
You could feel the tension in the air, thick as it filled up the room. Time to go.
"Come on, Jenna." You stood up, hoping you could pull Jenna from the house before things got too ugly, "If they don't love me for me, that's fine."
You noticed your father wince at the comment, his gaze dropping to the ground. Part of you wondered if he shared your mother's beliefs, if he hated you as well. He has always been the more levelheaded one, maybe there was hope for him.
"No." Jenna stood up, her eyes were still trained on your mother with a fury like you'd never seen before.
"Jenna, don't." You tried to stop her, but you could tell from the determined look on her face she didn't care.
"Are you really that shallow? You'll shun your daughter completely, all because of who she loves?"
"I'll not have a daughter who's a-"
"Who's a what? Say it," Jenna was challenging her now, daring her to say that forbidden word.
"You're a disgrace, you know that?" Your moms’ eyes darted over to you, "It's a sin and you're going to hell."
You scoffed, trying to act strong despite the tears in your eyes and the ache in your chest, "that’s fine, as long as I don't have to hear your bigoted comments for the rest of eternity."
Your mom shot up from the table, her chair sliding backward across the tile. Despite the look of rage, her eyes were watering as well, "How could you do this to me? To us?!"
"Do this to you...? Do you really think I started dating her because I wanted to hurt you?" Your vision was blurred from the tears silently streaming down your face. Your hands clenched as you tried to bottle up your rampant emotions. Everything was going to shit.
"Are you? Because from here, that's exactly what it looks like-"
"No! I would never try and hurt you. You told me to find someone that makes me happy, she makes me happy!"
"I said go find a nice boy to make you happy! Not to go practice sacrilege!”
"Are you insane? Do you even hear yourself?" Jenna jumped in, standing in front of you protectively.
You pulled Jenna back beside you, taking a step closer to your mother, "Let me spell it out for you. I'm bisexual. It's not something I can choose. It's who I am, it's in my DNA. I love Jenna and that's not changing any time soon. And I love you, you’re my mom, you raised me and cared for me, and taught me everything I know. But a real mother wouldn't disown me for being me."
It all happened so fast. Before you even knew what was happening you were on the floor, a red handprint staining your cheek.
You were in shock. Your hand cupping the forming red mark. She slapped you. She actually slapped you...
When you finally focused back on the situation, Jenna was kneeling in front of you. Her eyes were swimming with so many different emotions, but you couldn't miss her little concerned pout. You melted into her hands, how they cupped your face so gently as she examined the mark.
At the flip of a switch, her face contorted. What once was full of worry and concern had been taken over by hate and rage. It scared you.
Jenna spun around, wildly flinging insults at your mother. A shouting match had started, but you weren’t listening. All you could see was the image of your mother slapping you, repeating in your head over and over. Her face was full of so much hate and anger. How could someone who was supposed to love you do something so horrid?
You stood up, shaking off the shock and your spiraling thoughts.
“We’re leaving.” You stated simply, interrupting their screaming. You grabbed Jenna’s hand, lacing your fingers together as you pulled her towards the door with you.
You stood in the doorway, a nagging feeling sitting in the pit of your gut. You had more you wanted to say, but should you? Your mother made it more than clear she wasn’t willing to listen, that she was more than fine abandoning you.
You pushed yourself out the door without another word, walking through the rain. You handed Jenna the car keys, silently asking her to drive home. She took them without saying anything, understanding what you were asking.
Neither you nor Jenna said anything as you got into the car, the two of you still comprehending the nightmare that had just happened.
"Please take me home," you asked softly, ignoring the tears falling down your face.
You had been in the shower for over an hour now. It wasn’t abnormal for you to take long showers, but never this long. Jenna was worried.
The warm water had long since turned cold, leaving you shivering on the tile floor. Your head was buried in your arms, your knees pulled up to your chest. The sound of the water running effectively drowning out the sounds of your sobs.
You were heartbroken.
Your whole life there was this belief that your family would love you no matter what, that they would accept you for who you were. It’s still true, but after the scene at your parent’s house… your idea of family had been fundamentally shifted. Your parents weren’t your family anymore.
There was a knock on the bathroom door, “You alright in there, baby?” Jenna’s voice echoed throughout the bathroom.
You took a deep breath, trying to stop the crying, “Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Your voice came out shaky and hoarse. Jenna could tell you’d been crying from the other side of the door; if your voice hadn’t given it away the sound of you sobbing when she opened the door would have been.
Jenna wanted nothing more than to hug you tight, kiss your forehead and wipe away the tears. But she knew you needed some space. She closed the bathroom door and waited back on your bed, her patience wearing thin as worry settled in.
The minute you were out of the shower and done changing, you could see it. You looked like a mess. Bloodshot eyes stared back at you in the mirror. Your nose and cheeks were red from all the crying. Your chest ached and your throat felt like it was on fire.
The second you were out of the bathroom Jenna was already staring at you. The way you looked so hurt, eyes bloodshot and shoulders slumped, it broke her heart. You deserved better.
You didn’t say anything, just walking up to her silently and falling into her arms. You were fresh out of tears, with nothing left to give. You just wanted the pain to go away.
Jenna pulled you onto the bed with her, letting you cuddle up into her arms. It wasn’t long before you were asleep, the exhaustion from the day having worn you out. Jenna held you a little bit tighter against her chest before falling asleep herself. She silently hoped that you knew, even if your parents didn’t, she loved you more than she would ever be able to articulate.
#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x gn!reader#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#void-wolfie
381 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lost in the dark, look for the light
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Eldest Greene Sister!Reader • Plenty of those lost people before Alexandria let them in. Daryl didn’t like the place but when you fell into that dark place after losing so much, he’d do anything to help • ANGST/SFW • TW: Grieving / Nightmares / Sleep Deprivation / Self Inflicted Pain / Scars / Depression
Requested by: Anon
Maggie had told her…about what happened to Beth. Even if the look in Daryl’s face wanted him to be the one to tell his partner, Maggie’s sister, Y/N…that she had lost her youngest sister only a few days after losing her father.
The shock that met her body lead Y/N to become numb, instead of heartbroken. Even if she was…
Without saying a word of response to the news, all Y/N did was take a hold of her now only little sister in her embrace. Holding her with a force that told Maggie that she was terrified and that letting her go may bring on the thoughts that she would disappear.
A trend seemed to continue
Bob had died before the news of Beth, and Tyreese died shortly after hers. It was a lot. Many held on a good front, Y/N included. Others grieved quicker than most…grieved in strange ways.
During the time of walking, Daryl strayed away to take a moment to fall apart…expecting to be alone with his tears and to draw the pain to focus on the burn he made from dragging his cigarette onto his hand. But the archer was slipping with his observation skills, as he didn’t know he was being followed and by Y/N of all people.
The woman didn’t say a word but made herself present as the archer looks up at her before diverting his attention away. Did she see what he did? Is what he thought and it was only confirmed by the way she knelt in front of his seated position, taking the hand he burned…gently brushing all of the ash away before pressing her lips gently against the burn. It wasn’t going to do much, except tell him that she was there and that she can’t lose him as well.
As the tears came on strong, Daryl carefully pulled Y/N into his embrace as her body laid against him holding onto his form for dear life. As he returned the same sense. But he couldn’t help but fell an overwhelming intense wave of worry for his girl laid in his embrace…she wasn’t speaking or doing anything to grieve…she’s there for everyone, and everyone is blind.
He shall not
“I don’t trust this place” Rick states his thought out to everyone as they approached the walls to said place named Alexandria.
Then the words left without a second thought…
“We need the walls to keep our remaining family alive” Y/N sighed feeling a weight return itself on her chest as she kept her composure and decided to stray her thought in his favor. “If this place turns in any direction, we’ll show it not to mess with us” she whispers the last part to Rick who couldn’t agree more.
This place definitely felt a bit more like the old world with the new infused into such. Like going for runs to find supplies and creating walls to keep the sickos outside. But how the old world worked in some ways still remained and that’s what feared some of the group, that these people don’t truly understand the horrors.
When Y/N was brought in for the interview, no one expected Maggie and Daryl to want to eavesdrop. Making the others question their actions but in a sense it’s within good reason.
“You’re Maggie’s sister”
“Yes, is it obvious?”
“In a sense, you didn’t want to leave her side or at least her leave yours…did you recently lose someone?”
This feels uncomfortably like therapy “What is it you want exactly, Ms…?”
“Deanna is fine, I just want to get to know the group my recruiters have been watching for some time now—-“
“You hired stalkers?”
“Recruiters—-“
“Listen here dollface, it’s the end of the world and my group has been through enough shit as it is. We’ve been FUCKED more than once so if you’re gonna try and sell me on this pitch perfect fever dream of a community you got that’s exactly like how the old world used to be with just a couple changes—-you’re gonna have to try harder and not interrogate to know what I used to be”
The door pushed open startling the two eavesdropping to move quickly out of the way of the eldest Greene stepping out. Rick took note of the stress written all over her face as he was about to pull her aside when she brushed passed him stepping out of the house completely.
Y/N found herself sitting on the steps while her gaze glued to the gate. She half expected to be followed out and she was, but the three standing at the door were conflicted on who to confront her and what happened.
“Daryl and Glenn don’t know how to whisper, and I know you’re with’em”
Glenn and Daryl froze while Maggie pushed through, but forced the two back inside before shutting the door to give the sisters some sense of privacy.
“Boss lady mad or something?”
“No she told me to tell yea she wants you to be with the runners.”
“She really handing out jobs?” Y/N scoffs leaning against the porch railing. “I don’t want to go back to the old world…” I’m having a hard time staying here
“Neither do I, frankly” Maggie laughs slightly as her face fell into sadness. “I think…I’m losing you.”
I’m tired Mags…that is all Y/N thought as she brought her arm around her sister’s shoulders bringing her close. “You’ll never lose me, Mags. I’m right here”
The first night spent in this new place was all under the same roof. They were given two houses, and discussion of the Rhees getting their own was in the air…but all felt safer at least for the first night to be together.
Daryl kept himself posted by the window that was by the crib where Judith slept peacefully. His mind was racing the entire time he was within the walls as he didn’t want to trust it, he knew his partner didn’t want to…but there was more to it and he’s worried even when Y/N brought herself to sit with him while Rick talked.
“Wanna step out after this?” Daryl whispers to Y/N as she nods before leaning against him.
After listening to Rick talk about Alexandria and if anything happened, they have each other and they’ll take it over if it comes to that. Or at least that’s the idea with his speech without straight up saying they’ll take the place over. The two slipped out before the lights turned off for everybody, leaving the two only using the moonlight and the few porch lights to light their path through Alexandria.
“Are you doing alright? After…yeah” Y/N wasn’t exactly ready herself to admit it and Daryl couldn’t help but worry for her.
“Best as I could, are you—-“
“Hey!”
The two stopped when Deanna and her husband Reg started to approach. Daryl is usually the one to step back but when he noticed Y/N, his very forward outgoing Y/N, started to step back to try and avoid them. He stepped forward covering her.
“Well isn’t it Daryl and Y/N, this is my husband Reg” Deanna smiles presenting her husband as he gave a gentle wave sensing the anxiety from the two unlike her wife. “What are you two do—-“
“Hun, I think they’re lookin’ for a relaxing evening alone just like we were”
“Oh, OH! My apologizes…I hope your run tomorrow with my son goes well, Y/N. Maybe you and Glenn can share some insight”
“Sure…” Y/N gave a small smile hoping she’d walk away and before she could even talk more, Daryl cut himself in.
“It’s getting late” Daryl states gently wrapping his arm around Y/N’s shoulders directing her back to the house as she didn’t say a word but gave him a thankful look.
When the two themselves turned in for the night, Daryl held Y/N close as she slept feeling her shake in her sleep which made him tighten his grasp on her. She used to do this back at the prison when they first started living there, instead of waking from her nightmares she just…shakes. Scared Daryl at first when he first saw this happening but learned that holding her closer to him would get her to relax eventually.
Even if right now it wasn’t working. Something was wrong.
“Have you heard about their run at all?” Daryl startled Maggie slightly out of her thoughts as she passed by noticing he was waiting on her porch.
“It’s just to get an idea of how they do things around here. Not an actual run that takes hours.” Maggie joins Daryl in the steps of her and Glenn’s place watching him anxiously grip onto his crossbow. “Daryl…do you have any idea of…what might be going on with my sister?”
That very question floats around in his mind as it was an obvious answer, she hasn’t had the time to process all of what happened by herself.
“You chain up walkers?” Y/N asks in disbelief as Aiden nods while he and Nicholas were looking for the walker that killed their friend.
“It killed our own. This shows—-“
“Shows what?” Glenn scoffs. “You’re just making it more dangerous for others”
“It’s just one walker, not like it’s gonna do anything—-“ Aiden was cut off by said walker, or hell a completely different one, making itself known by almost taking out the man.
When Noah tried to go over and take it out Nicolas stopped it because the two were determined to chain it back up. But the others weren’t going to let them.
“Can you—-fucking help” Aiden snaps toward one of the “newbies” as Tara went ahead but ended up getting stuck in the matter of she was trying not to let the thing bite her.
This was getting ridiculous.
Y/N immediately went in and ended the Walker which lead to Aiden pushing her away once the body hit the floor.
“The fuck is wrong with you?!”
“Hey!” Glenn tried to intervene when the two got face to face.
“What’s wrong with me?! You’re the one with brain fucking damage thinkin’ you can contain these sickos”
“IT KILLED OUR FRIEND! IT DESERVES—-“
“DESERVES WHAT?!” Y/N snaps getting up in his business as he stumbled to stand his ground. “They’re already fucking dead. They are just a risk for the living now. What is chaining it up gonna do? Scare off the rest? Teach it a lesson?” She suddenly pushed the man over making it level with the now dead dead walker. “It’s not a fucking person in need of a punishment anymore! You’re a fucking idiot for putting others at risk, especially yourself…you’re not cut out to survive outside the walls”
Aiden didn’t say a word of response as Y/N stood her ground while her hands shook with anger.
This is risky, dad. They aren’t—-
Some part of them is still there, sweetheart.
Dad seriously—
You saying…that’s not your mother anymore?
Y/N quickly stepped through the gates first wanting to find some place to hide but of course Aiden had enough.
“You guys need new gigs! Especially you!” Aiden grabs her shoulder forcing her to turn around as Glenn immediately stepped in between.
“Don’t pick a fight man”
“Pick a fight? She’s the one that fucking started this. You gotta learn to follow my lead.” He snaps pushing Glenn aside even if he tried to cut in between only knowing what’s next to happen.
“Don’t start—-“
“I’m protecting my fucking people.” Aiden glares at Y/N trying to use his height to his advantage. “Hell! You’re here because you failed to protect your own”
And without a second thought, Y/N punched him right in the center of his face with enough force to knock him on his ass. Completely tuning out the crowd around them as she towered over him.
“I’m doing my goddamn BEST.” Y/N snaps, not noticing the tears that spilled. “At least I kept those with me alive unlike you…risking everyone with your savior complex.”
“You fucking bi—-“ Aiden was cut off by Glenn cutting in between once more and this time he was about ready to stab a bitch if he had to. “Your people don’t belong here…especially you” he glares at Y/N noticing his mom watching as he quickly stepped away.
“Listen here! Rick’s people deserve to be here”
The rest of the speech didn’t pick up as Y/N did her best to step away even if the worried looks from Tara and Noah caught her eye while her brother in law tried talking to her to check on her. But nothing picked up as she completely pulled herself away leaving the crowd entirely.
Daryl had approached the commotion right when Y/N started to leave as he frowns noticing the tears immediately. He carefully blocked her way trying to get through to her but his words weren’t reaching, but grabbing her biceps gently did make her stop.
“Sunshine, what happened? Who hurt you, what can I do?”
“I got them killed” Y/N felt a pain in her chest as she started to try and pull away. “I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t…I…They’re dead because of me. The Governor, Terminus…the hospital…everyone. It’s my fault” she broke right before his eyes as it pained him, as if someone had stabbed him right through the chest. She’s been enduring all this loss of her family, their friends…by herself in muted silence.
“No…sunshine, none of it was your—-“
“…why couldn’t it have been me” Y/N whispered, feeling the tears continue to fall as part of her wanted to collapse in his arms and stay there…he wanted to hold her, keep her safe from everyone within the walls.
But she pulled away, hurting them both in a way.
The archer found himself sitting on either the porch or outside Y/N’s door since what happened. It’s been hours and eventually the next day, she hasn’t left that room. Maggie didn’t care about shadowing Deanna when Y/N was in this episode, she did the same as Daryl by staying as close as possible. Even if every fiber of her being wanted to make sure she wasn’t…Mm.
“You need anything?” Glenn whispers to Maggie who was sat beside Daryl who looked dressed for a trail recruiting run with Aaron while she was more comfortable.
“Can you get another glass of water? I’m gonna—“
“I’ll give it to her, long as yea…stay while I’m gone?” Daryl asks watching Maggie nod even if they both know she’ll be going to this party because Deanna is requesting all of Rick’s group to attend. Not everyone will.
After receiving the water from Glenn, Daryl quietly enters the room leaving a small gap for Maggie to listen in if Y/N said anything. Even if she currently laid in bed facing the blackout curtains with half the blanket off of her.
The archer quietly approached setting the glass on the nightstand before crouching enough to her level. He frowns as he couldn’t help but wonder what else is going on in her mind.
“‘M gonna go with Aaron to check around…find anythin’ or anyone” Daryl whispers tugging on the blanket to cover her, watching her curl up slightly. “Ain’t gonna go to the party, so I should be back in a few hours…please drink the water…” he mumbles a bit watching her eyes lock on him for a moment before he got up and started to head out.
“be safe…” Y/N managed out, leading Daryl to stop and contemplate leaving or not. He didn’t want her to do anything harmful when he was gone but he knew Maggie had already taken out everything in the room.
He did the extra curtesy of taking her knife off the nightstand closing to the door, taking it with him for safe keeping. If it came to a breach, Y/N will know what to do if she doesn’t have her knife.
One could hope she would fight if it came to it during this period.
“We’ll come and get yea if anything” Maggie reassures Daryl with Glenn nodding in agreement.
“We are going to the party because Deanna asked Maggie personally, but we won’t be out long”
“I should be back before then” Daryl states and went on his way out leaving the two to check Y/N one last time before closing the door quietly.
When night fell and the party was going on, Daryl found himself in Aaron’s residence after being invited in for dinner. He didn’t want to leave Y/N alone for much longer as he stared at his empty plate for a moment.
“You wanna bring a plate to your partner?” Eric offers with a smile watching the archer light up a bit.
The two knew about Y/N and what happened by the gates the other day, and they didn’t push Daryl to talk about it in any way. Only providing help in small ways, hence bringing home a plate of spaghetti.
Alexandria was lighting up slowly for the archer and he wishes to share that with his partner. At her own speed.
“Hey” Daryl kept his voice low entering the room when he noticed the light from her lantern was on. At least the one that was in the room. Y/N wasn’t laying down anymore but she still had a gloom radiating from her. “How long have yea been up?”
“Uhm. I don’t…know?”
“Think yea can eat?” Daryl asks showing off the wrapped plate as she looked up for it but given how he didn’t budge from his place, he wanted her to get up.
And for good smelling food? Y/N did exactly that.
The two sat in silence in the dining room as Daryl watched her eat like she hasn’t eaten in days…which was the case. He would refill her glass every time it emptied and he’d listen to her soft ‘thank you’ as that was the most interaction between the two. As Y/N finishes she kept everything neat even if she wasn’t a messy eater like Daryl, she just. Felt like everything would fall apart if she didn’t clean up after herself even if Daryl took care of the plate setting it in the sink.
After cleaning up, especially after Y/N’s bossiness started to return and told Daryl to wash the plate to return tomorrow, the two found themselves back in the bedroom as Y/N was already in loungewear and getting under the covers while Daryl took his clothes off going through the dresser to find sweats for him leaving himself shirtless. He pulled the covers carefully, getting underneath them and bringing himself close to Y/N.
As Daryl finally got comfortable, he brought his arm cautiously around his partner half expecting her to pull away. Instead Y/N brought her hand to his holding it.
“I’m not going anywhere, sunshine” Daryl whispers to her, not seeing the tears brim in her eyes when he said such.
“Promise…?”
“I promise” He pulled her close to his chest feeling her ease in his embrace.
The following days, Y/N came back out of the hole that her depression dug for her at her own pace with the help of Daryl and Maggie. Daryl would have her help with building the bike in Aaron’s garage so she wouldn’t have to work with Aiden or frankly any of the assholes within Alexandria. Some days she would go with Maggie in shadowing Deanna but mostly the times she’d spend in the makeshift library to learn more about the place with the blueprints there and a few documented journals by Reg that were placed there for those to read.
Before their lives in Alexandria changed, Y/N found herself sitting on the porch watching the people go by as she unconsciously traces every blemish, scar, beauty mark that graced her skin while she waited for Maggie to step out and join her on the steps. They weren’t going anywhere, just a moment between the two sisters.
That Y/N really needed…
“Beth would’ve loved this place”
A smile broke out on Maggie’s face out of remembrance and a little bit of sadness.
“Yeah…she would’ve.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t…entirely there for you when…yknow”
“You were lost, we all were…it just. Took a different form of light to bring yea back” Maggie smiles more as Y/N brought her arm around her shoulders bringing her in.
The eldest Greene looking down the street, not far but close enough to get a get a clear picture of the light that brought her out of her darkness.
Daryl Dixon
151 notes
·
View notes
Text
“Chapter One”
Word Count: 6.7k
(Chapter one to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)
●・○・●・○・●
Sitting in my makeup chair, I stare at myself in the vanity mirror. The bright bulbs surrounding it are causing me to squint a bit. My usual hair stylist wasn't able to make it out to LA for this show, and I wasn't upset about that. She had a family emergency, and for me, friends and family came before anything for those around me. The woman behind me, whose name I learned was Lisa, was just finishing up the curls she was putting into my hair. She was middle aged from what I could see, and she could style the hell out of some hair. I had just gotten my wolf cut shaped for this specific show since it was the last one of my current tour, and she couldn't stop complimenting me on how much it suited me.
After this, I will be taking a break to work on a new album here in LA. I've purchased a house and had a recording installed so that I'll be able to work there instead of traveling around. Although my parents didn't live here anymore, this was still the place I considered home. I left almost two years ago when I got signed to my record label, and it's been almost three years since I've actually been back.
As much as I had tried to deny it, there was a part of me that had avoided LA on the two other tours I've gone on before this one. I wasn't ready to face the people here who knew me, and most of all, I don't know how I would act if I were to see him.
I went through a few years of therapy to get over the emotional turmoil I went through after Harry and I's friendship ended. It was necessary. I avoided human contact with anyone but my parents for almost a whole year because of it, and I finally took the step at finding a therapist - forcing myself to make the appointments for a few months until I actually started to look forward to it.
It's been almost a year since the last appointment with my therapist, the both of us deciding that I no longer needed to be seen on a monthly basis as I had been. We agreed that I could reach out to her when needed, and she assured me that she would be available any day and any time.
"Alright, since I'm finished with your hair, I'm gonna go grab your girl to finish up your makeup, okay?" Lisa asks, and I give her a nod.
"Yes, thank you so much for doing this last minute. I really appreciate you."
"Of course, sweetheart."
She gives me a squeeze to my shoulder as she exits the room, and I sigh as I grab my pack of cigarettes off the vanity. I slip one between my lips, lighting it up as I stare at myself in the mirror once again. It looks like the only things I have left for my makeup is eyeshadow, lashes and lips, and I know those won't take too long since the base of everything is already set.
I take a drag of my cigarette, flicking the ash into the tray in front of me. Pulling my bottom lip through my teeth, I keep the stick between my fingers as I rub the tip of my thumb over one of my brows out of stress.
There were going to be people here tonight that I haven't seen in years. I knew that by keeping my real name instead of choosing a stage name that as soon as I decided to come home that it would bring attention. I wasn't famous on a large scale by any means, but I did have a decent following, and this current tour has opened a lot of new doors for me.
I had invited Mikey and Kailey considering I'd kept up with them pretty regularly over the years, but they both were busy tonight with their jobs. I've actually flown the both of them out to a few shows, and at first I was worried that the both of them would be offended that I got a whole new band to back me up instead of them, but they understood why I didn't. That would feel too much like having the band without him, and that was just something I couldn't ever bring myself to do.
I've only ever brought him up once, and it was to Kailey after the third show I flew her out to. She said she wanted to talk to me about it as well, but she didn't know how to bring it up. He was still in the area, that was for sure from things that Kailey had heard, but she had only ever seen him twice since everything happened.
The first time was at a gas station and he was grabbing a pack of cigarettes, however, he didn't see her. The second time was at a house party she was invited to, and Harry was just showing up as she was leaving. She told me that he was already pretty drunk from what she could tell, and they made eye contact, but he immediately looked away and kept making his way into the party. She told me that Mikey hasn't heard or seen him at all.
"Sorry, sorry, I was finishing my dinner."
I'm brought out of my thoughts as I see Christy, my makeup artist, come rounding in front of me. "Okay, so just a few things left, Marls," she says, eyes scanning over my face before giving herself a nod.
I take a few more quick drags of my cigarette before snuffing it out.
Christy begins to apply some primer to my lids before shuffling through some of the palettes she brought with her. "Since your outfit is a dark creme and black color scheme, I think I'm going to go with a darker lid, what do you think?"
"Yeah, yeah," I nod, clearing my throat before looking back at myself in the mirror. "That sounds good to me. I trust you, you always take care of me."
Christy stands back in front of me and sends me a smile as I close my eyes, allowing her to work her magic. My hands were slightly clutching to the arms of the makeup chair as I felt the bristles of the makeup brush on my lids.
It's quiet between the two of us for a while before Christy speaks up. "You're a little more nervous than I'm used to seeing," she comments. "Are you nervous about potentially seeing..."
Christy has been my makeup artist for the last two and half years, and within that time, I've opened up to her a lot about things in my personal life. Other than my manager, she's probably the person I confide in the most while on the road, and sometimes even off of it. I try my best not to bother either of them when we're taking a break from touring, and they're back at home with their families, but both of them have assured me time and time again that I'm not doing that when I reach out.
"A little bit, yeah," I confess, licking over my bottom lip. "But I also don't think that he'll come. He probably doesn't even remember at this point."
I can hear Christy sigh, and I feel the brush fall from my skin for a moment. My eyes flutter open to see her staring down at me - head tilted to the side.
"Now you and I both know that you don't actually believe that for a second."
Scowling slightly, I cross my arms and slouch in my chair. "No, I don't. You have to understand that it's easier for me to think that way though than to think he does remember me, and that he hasn't reached out at all."
"Trust me, I definitely get that," Christy says with a nod, and I close my eyes again to let her continue. "But I also don't think it's completely fair to yourself to just say he's forgotten you. I highly doubt that he has."
"Who knows at this point though? Literally no one I still speak to has actually talked to him. I have nothing to go on."
Christy remains silent as she finishes my eye makeup, and she continues to not speak as she applies my lashes. I'm sure she's stopped speaking on the subject to keep me from getting even more nervous than I already am.
As she starts to work on my red lips, I see the door open in the mirror.
"You have fifteen minutes before you're on, Marlowe," Lys, my manager, says as she pokes her head into my dressing room. "Do you need any help getting into your dress?"
I shake my head once Christy pulls the lip product she was using away for a moment to give me a chance to respond. "No, I've got it. Thank you though."
Lys nods, but instead of stepping out, she makes her way into the room, standing behind me as Christy finishes up on my lips. She places her hands on my shoulders, massaging them softly as we make eye contact through the mirror.
"You've got this. I know this is your first hometown show, and that it probably feels extremely stressful for you right now, but just remember what you always say before each and every show - you won't be able to see past at least the fourth row because of the lights, these people are here to see you because they already love your music, and you wouldn't be up on that stage to begin with if you weren't immensely talented."
Christy moves away for a moment, before she stands back in front of me with some setting spray. I close my eyes and feel the product misting my skin, and then I feel air fanning against it as Christy dries it by waving her hands in front of my face.
"All done, and looking as beautiful as ever," she says, reaching down to grab my hands.
With the both of them making contact with me, it does help me ground myself a little bit. I shut my eyes and take in a deep breath as I give Christy's hands a squeeze.
"Thank you guys so much, seriously," I tell them, blinking my eyes back open. I shift in my chair a bit so I can look at the both of them, Lys moving both of her hands to drape over one of my shoulders. "I don't know what I would do without the both of you."
"Crash and burn, probably is what I'd say, " Lys says with a shrug, looking over to Christy. "What do you think?"
"Oh absolutely," Christy agrees with a nod.
I roll my eyes before popping up out of my chair, walking over to my dressing room door. Gripping the doorknob on my hand, I gesture my other hand through the door frame.
"Now, if you lovely ladies would be so kind, I have to get changed," I tell them.
Lys sticks her tongue out at me playfully as Christy gathers her makeup supplies, and they both file out of the room. I strip off the robe I had been wearing, leaving me in just my bra and underwear underneath.
Making my way over to the hanger on the rack, I pull off the fishnets that were hanging through the middle of it and pull them onto my legs with a pair of black cheeky shorts over them - just in case my dress flies up for any reason on stage. I slip on my dress after that, thankful that the zipper was on the side so I could actually manage this myself.
It wasn't that I didn't want the help, but I just needed some silence before going out on that stage. Things never end well for me if it tends to get too loud, and I had a fear of that happening if I didn't give myself some alone time tonight.
After I sit down on the couch, I pull on the shoes that have multiple buckles that go up my legs - which stop right underneath my knees. I shove my hands into my half pleather gloves, clenching and unclenching my fingers to get a good feel of how much mobility I had in them. I stand up and walk over to the full length mirror in my room - giving myself a good once over.
I slip my eyes shut after a moment, rolling my head from side to side on my shoulders while shaking out my arms a bit.
Beginning to pace around my room, I start my vocal exercises - tapping my fingers slightly to the beat that I was pacing myself at. My eyes meet the clock on the wall, and I know that it's time.
I make my way over the door, and I open it before making my way towards the stage.
"Oh! I was just coming to get you," Lys says cheerfully as she begins to walk beside me, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together. "I'm so proud of you, Marlowe, you have no idea."
We make our way to the steps that lead to where I'm needed next, and she stops us. I look down at her, and I can see tears glazing over her eyes.
"I mean that," she says, speaking over the cheers that are flooding through from the crowd. "I know how much it took for you to get here to be able to play this show, and I hope you're just as proud of yourself as I am of you. You're remarkable, and now you get to show the city where you came from just how remarkable you are as well."
Pursing my lips to the side, I do my best not to cry as I quickly wrap my arms around Lys, pulling her in for a hug. "Fuck you for almost making me cry before I go out there," I joke with a laugh, and I hear her give one back to me as her hands run up and down my back.
We pull away after a moment, and she begins to wipe under her eyes.
"Go, go! I'll be right off to the side if you need me, but I know you won't. You're going to be so wonderful."
Smiling, I give her a nod before making my way to the steps, encasing one of the rails in my hand. I watch as my band enters in from the steps on the other side of the stage, and they take their positions. They begin to play my intro song, and I nod my head to beat to try and get myself into the zone.
On stage, I'm more than just Marlowe Finch. On stage, I'm Marlowe Finch, the singer.
Once a certain beat hits, I race up the steps and onto the stage, the volume from the crowd increasing entirely as I walk the front of the surface. This was a smaller venue, so it was easy for the sound to fill the place, but I was honestly surprised at just how many people were here. I could tell there were people lined up from wall to wall, and the crowd extended all the way into the back towards the front door.
I can feel the large smile taking over my features as I make my way back into the middle of the stage towards my mic stand.
"LA, how are we feeling?" I call out, and the crowd begins to go wild again after just starting to calm down. "Well, you beautiful fucking people, I hope you came here to have a good time because that's what I intend on giving you. Did you guys come here to have a good time?"
I can hear the crowd yell back 'yeah' to me, and I laugh outside of the microphone before letting it meet my lips again. "I said, did you guys come here to have a good time?"
They yell back again even louder than before, and I nod. "Well let's start this damn party, shall we?"
●・○・●・○・●
My chest heaves as I finish my second to the last song. I turn to face my band, sending them all a huge smile, and they're sending me one right back. I turn back to the crowd, and I can feel a lump growing in my throat.
"You guys have been so incredible. I can't thank you enough," I tell them genuinely as I rest my hand against my chest. "I haven't played a hometown show in my time as an artist for various reasons, but I've finally found the strength within myself to do it, and you guys have given me a show even greater than I ever hoped. So thank you, to each and every one of you for making this night so special."
"I'm going to be taking a bit of a break to work on my first full album - not just an EP. Can you all believe that?" I ask, and the crowd cheers. "And it wouldn't be possible without all of you, truly. For this last song I'm going to sing, it's the only completed song I have so far for the new album. It's extremely personal to me, and I didn't know if I was going to play it tonight, but you guys have been so great to me. This is my gift to you. Thank you guys again."
Once more I turn to my band, and my guitarist, Garrett, lifts his eyebrows at me. I know that they all have to be surprised that I'm choosing to sing this song, but it feels right tonight. I give him a nod, and he begins to strum the chords for the introduction of the song.
After a while, the drums start as well, and I close my eyes tight as I keep my back to the audience. I listen to the music surrounding me and I tell myself that this is the moment for me to finally sing this - the most personal song I've written so far. I can hear that it's almost time for me to start singing, and I turn back to the crowd as I cup the microphone on the stand in both of my hands.
"Down to you.
You're pushin' and pullin' me down to you,
But I don't know what I-"
The song immediately goes into the chorus, and I find myself shutting my eyes again - shying away from the crowd for the first time tonight.
"Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought.
Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought of you."
I hesitantly open my eyes, and I can see the crowd nodding their heads and swaying to the sound of the beat. That gives me a little more reassurance, and I feel a small smile twitch onto my lips as I watch them.
"Of you - you're pushin' and pullin' me down to you.
But I don't know what I want.
No, I don't know what I want."
Taking the microphone off the stand, I walk towards the front of the crowd and lean down, making eye contact with a few people as I sing the next verse.
"You got it, you got it - some kind of magic.
Hypnotic, hypnotic - you're leaving me breathless
I hate this. I hate this.
You're not the one I believe in - with God as my witness."
The band leads me into the next chorus which then fades into the slower bridge, and I stop in the middle of the stage. I extend one of my hands over my head as I feel the music, and I begin to snake my body around while I sing out the next words.
"Don't know what I want, but I know it's not you.
Keep pushin' and pullin' me down - when I know, in my heart, it's not you."
The song remains slower until the band kicks in heavy once again for the last chorus, and I quickly grab the microphone out of the middle of the stage, tossing it to the side, as myself, Garrett, and my bassist, Alice, begin to head bang.
"Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that I should've never thought.
Now when I caught myself, I had to stop myself from saying something that-"
I slam down onto my knees on the stage, my dress long enough to cover me as it sit back slightly on my heels, and I press the palm of my hand not holding the microphone down onto the stage between my thighs as I belt out the last few lines of the song.
"I should've never thought of you. I knew.
I know, in my heart, it's not you. I knew.
But now, I know what I want, I want, I want.
Oh, no, I should've never thought!"
Sucking in air to catch my breath, I keep myself in the position for a while. I didn't even realize that I had tears streaming down my cheeks, my eyes now burning from the sensation as my bottom lip trembles. I know my hair is covering me from the audience so they're not able to see how emotional I've become.
In order to distract the crowd a bit, the band begins to play the beginning of the song again, and I know they're doing it to stall - to help me recuperate, and give a proper end to my set.
Only a few more seconds go by before I push myself off the ground, and I lift my other hand to move my curls out of my face as I hold the microphone to my lips.
"You've been truly magical, LA," I compliment them, and I know that my tears are gone from my cheeks. I just hope that it hasn't been obvious that I've been crying. "Hopefully I'll be seeing you again really soon. Thank you again, get home safely, and have a good night!"
I begin to blow kisses to them and wave as I start towards the steps I had entered on, and I quickly feel an arm wrap around mine.
"Believe me when I say that was your best performance yet!" Lys squeals, leaning over to press her lips against my cheek, her hold tightening on my right arm as she does so. "I can't believe you played the song. They loved it, Marlowe."
Lys has set it up for me to sign a few things against a side barricade before heading back tonight, and I was more than okay with that. They start leading me towards backstage again, and the way the stage was set up, I have to walk a bit onto the main floor before entering the backstage door. There's a railing blocking me from everyone, and I move a bit closer to Lys as fans start screaming my name - extending copies of my EP for me to sign.
My eyes widen, and I stop to greet them. I sign the items and give them back, all while thanking each person for coming tonight, and for supporting me. Once I reach the end of the line, the main floor is practically cleared out, and we start towards the door.
"Marlowe," I hear my name, and I feel a hand brush against the top of my left arm.
I immediately flinch away and look over at the individual as the security behind us begins to block me from them. Looking away, I start towards the door again before I freeze - realizing the set of ivy colored eyes my blue ones had just been met with.
"Honey, come on," I know Lys is speaking to me, but her voice sounds far away as I turn to look at the person who is calling my name once again.
All the air gets pushed from my lungs when I see who it is, and my knees just about give out on me. He's dressed in a pair of tight black jeans with a pastel floral button-up. The top few buttons are undone to reveal the swallows I knew so well in addition to the antennas of the butterfly that adorns the top of his stomach.
"Harry," I breathe, and he gives me a nod.
It's then that I realize his hair is longer - much longer than the last time I've seen him. He lifts a hand to run through the front of it, pushing it out of his face, but he never averts his gaze from mine.
"No fucking way," I hear Lys whisper behind me, and she quickly gives my arm another squeeze. "Let's go, Marlowe. I'll have security see him out."
Shaking my head, I pull my arm away from her, and now I'm completely turning to face him.
"What do you want?" I ask him - my tone coming out more aggressive than I thought, and I've even surprised myself with that.
"Can we talk?"
Every fiber of my being tells me that I should tell him no. That I should just send him away, and that I don't owe him a thing for the years of turmoil he's put me through. But now that he's here in front of me, and I know he hasn't actually forgotten who I am, I want nothing more than to hear his voice for more than just a few seconds.
"You want to talk?" My eyebrows narrow, and I can feel one of my hands clenching into a fist by my side.
"That's what I asked, isn't it?"
"Alright, that's enough," Lys' voice cuts in, and I feel her wrap her arm around my chest as she starts to steer me towards the backstage area again. "Come on, let's get you changed and home."
"No," I tell her, and we stop again as I tilt my head towards the door - eyes still on Harry. "If you wanna talk, let's talk."
Harry peers at the security guard that just slightly towers over him as he makes his way around the barricade that was completely separating him from us. I swallow harshly as we start towards my dressing room, and Lys opens the door - following me inside.
"Marlowe, I don't know if this is such a good-"
"Look, Lys, I appreciate it, I do, and I understand why you would be hesitant to let me do this, but with the progress I've made - I feel like I need to," I explain, and I watch her nibble on the inside of her cheek before looking over her shoulder at Harry who was now also entering the room. "I have my phone on me, okay? If I need you, I'll call."
"Okay," she sighs, shaking her head in defeat when she knows that I'm going through with this. "Do you want me to leave one of the security guys outside of the door?"
I can't help but smirk softly at her proposition. "I'm okay, but thank you for offering."
Nodding, she starts out of the room, but she stops and looks at Harry. "I swear to god, if I get a phone call from her in the next five minutes and she's crying, I'll find out where you live, and I'll make sure that-"
"Lys!" I say, and she quickly makes eye contact with me as I raise my eyebrows.
"Right, sorry," she mumbles before heading out of the room.
Silence takes over, and I keep my eyes off of Harry as I walk over to my vanity. I grab the ashtray off the surface, as well as my pack of cigarettes, before I head over to the couch - plopping myself down on it. I stick a cigarette between my teeth to hold it stable as I lean down and begin to undo the buckles of my shoes. Once I have them undone, I toss both of them to the side, and I pluck the lighter out of my pack.
I quickly light the cigarette before leaning back into the couch a bit, one leg crossed over the other. In the time that I had taken my shoes off, I didn't notice that Harry had grabbed one of the fold up metal chairs that had been leaning up against the wall. He set it up right across from me, only the coffee table really separating the two of us.
Unfortunately, I find myself in a bit of a trance as I see him fish his own pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his jeans. He flips the lid and brings it up to his mouth, pulling one of the sticks out with his teeth. His eyes flip up to meet mine as he grabs his lighter and sparks it - heart shaped lips immediately closing down around the filter, and I watch the end glow orange.
We both pull the cigarettes from our mouths at the same time, and I tilt my head up to blow the smoke towards the ceiling, but his head remains level with his sight still set on me.
It only takes a few more seconds before we let our eyes journey down each other's bodies, and although I had taken him in out on the main floor, it was like I was doing it for the first time all over again. My head could hardly wrap around the fact that he no longer had some sort of bandana trapped inside his curls, and I could tell with the way his sleeves were rolled up to the creases of his elbows that he had gotten more tattoos over the years.
I'm sure I looked different to him too. My hair was now dark brown, almost black, instead of blonde. My body had truly formed into a woman, causing me to have thicker thighs and a fuller bust. Although my dress covered all of my chest, I knew he could still see the curve to my breasts. He cleared his throat once his eyes made it down to my legs that were still crossed, and he leaned forward to ash his cigarette into the tray.
"So you made it, huh?" He asks, licking over his bottom lip before taking another drag. "You did the whole music thing?"
I scoff slightly, and I can't help but roll my eyes at his statement. "Well, yeah, it was always my dream - my end goal. Just wish that..."
Trailing off, I decide not to finish my sentence as I shake my head. "Doesn't matter," I mumble softly. "What about you? Do you play anymore?
"Well, it would be hard to play considering your parents sold my drumset when they moved out of their home, but even then I wouldn't have wanted it. I still listen to music, but I could never see myself playing again like I did."
Frowning, I ash my own cigarette, leaning forward a bit to rest my wrist on top of my knee - tilting my head to the side. "That's a shame, Harry, you were talented," I tell him honestly, and for the first time I feel my stomach knot up from my nerves. "And my parents assured me that they put the check for the set in your mailbox."
"Oh they did," Harry laughs, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "Just another act of charity from them, just like all those years before."
I try to swallow down my anger with his comment, but I can feel my jaw tense. "They never saw you that way, and you know that I never did either. You bought that set with the money you earned from working at the record store. It was yours."
"Yeah, whatever," he shrugs me off with a wave of his hand as he takes an especially long drag.
It grows quiet again, and I finish off my cigarette - putting the butt out in the tray. Leaning back on the couch, I drape my arms across the top of it, and I watch as Harry pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Why are you here, Harry?" I ask, needing him to be straight up with me. I need to know why he chose me coming home to finally acknowledge my existence again.
"Saw your name on the marquee," he said, bringing his hand up to toy with his bottom lip instead, rolling it between the pad of his thumb and his index finger. "Had to make sure that it was you."
"Okay, I guess I'm just a little confused? It's been almost five years. I'm just not understanding how me coming home all of a sudden-"
"What? Do you think there's more to this than me just wanting to confirm that it's you? I'm not here from some type of emotional reunion, Marlowe. Jesus Christ," Harry shakes his head, snuffing his own cigarette out before reaching to grab his pack again.
"Oh, because there's just so many Marlowe Finch's in the world, right?" I ask him, feeling my hands begin to tremble as I drop them down onto the cushions beside me to cup the edge of the couch. "You just had to confirm it was me?"
"I don't know what kind of answer you're looking for here, but whatever it is, you're not getting it from me," Harry laughs darkly, his eyes completely avoiding me now.
Gritting my teeth, I stand from the couch and reach out to snatch his pack of cigarettes from his hand. "You owe me a fucking explanation," I seethe, tears beginning to burn in my eyes from how furious I'm feeling. "Do you understand what you've put me through?"
Harry rolls his eyes and I see a smirk take over his expression as he looks at the wall over my shoulder instead of looking at me. His lips roll, and I can tell that he's slightly sucking his teeth.
"Is something funny?" I lean down to block his view of the wall, and for the first time ever, I see a darkness in his green eyes.
It almost knocks the wind out of me as he's never looked at me with such a gaze, and he sits up from his slightly slouched position in his chair.
"Yeah, there is," he states, standing up, and he takes the pack back from me. "The fact that you think that I owe you anything. Whatever you went through after I told you I didn't want to be friends with you anymore is on you. I should've done it years prior, but you were clinging to me so hard and-"
"Don't you dare fucking finish that sentence," I grit at him, tugging the pleather gloves off my hands as they were growing too clammy for my liking. I toss them onto the couch behind me, and I walk forward so my chest is flush with his. "I was clinging to you? Harry, we only had each other until we found Kailey and Mikey, and then after that you found Sierra. But Sierra didn't really matter either, right? You were sick of her too from what you said. I just don't understand why you completely erased me from your life like you did. I tried to go to your house a month after you left and-"
"You know I never liked you going to my house," Harry's voice lowers, and I feel him buck his chest up against mine a little more. "My mum told me that you stopped by like you did, and that was stupid."
"I didn't have any other choice! You made me feel like I was losing my mind! Fuck - I feel like I'm losing it again right now. Even after five years, you still find a way to mess with my fucking head just by being in my presence for ten minutes," I gasp, moving away from him as my hands tangle into my hair. I begin to pace my dressing room, heart thumping in its cavity.
"I told you I wanted to see if it was you, and that's that. There's nothing more to it, and once I leave here tonight it'll be just like it has been. We won't see each other, we still won't be friends. Eventually you'll forget that you ever saw me again."
Tears wet my cheeks as I look back over to him, and I shake my head. "That's the thing, Harry, I won't. There's hardly been any time that I haven't thought of you over these years, and there's no way that this isn't going to stick just like all the other memories."
Harry steps towards me again, and I look up as his eyes bounce all over my face. "Then wake the fuck up, Marlowe, and learn to properly forget about me."
I open my mouth to speak again, but Harry's already turned around - making his way out of the dressing room. He slams the door behind him, and I quickly clamp a hand over my mouth to keep myself from sobbing out. I don't want anyone to hear me like this. I don't know if Lys is still here, but if she is, I know she'll find some way to have Harry's head if she hears me. I'm also really not in the mood to have someone comforting me.
Maybe I really had been fooling myself after all these years, thinking that he was missing me just as much as I was missing him. I couldn't blame him for coming tonight if his true reason was just to confirm that it was me - I'd probably do the same if the situations were reversed.
But what I didn't expect from Harry was the darkness that was surrounding him. That definitely wasn't the same person I knew, and at this point he was truly unrecognizable to me. The moment those green eyes turned into nothing but flourishing ivy I once held so dear - I knew he was never going to come back to me as the same old Harry. He doesn't want to come back at all.
Part of me thinks this is what I needed. I needed to see him as a stranger in order to completely move on from the past, and to actually let him go. But I know that as much as I try to convince myself of that, there is always going to be a small sliver inside that still wishes to hold him close, and to be able to call him my friend.
My therapist told me that your mind and your emotions work closely together in the most mysterious ways, and even though you may not even notice, they fight each other for dominance more than you think. I was told that my emotions usually end up winning, and that's what can cause me to go days without leaving my bed, or what can have me shutting myself away in the studio for weeks on end. She provided me with proper exercises to try and help clear things up when these struggles start to happen, and I know that when I get home tonight I'm going to have to dive into several of them to help overcome the way I'm currently feeling.
Once I collect myself, I slip out of my dress and accessories before pulling on a pair of leggings and some Doc Martens with an oversized black hoodie. I gathered everything that was mine in the dressing room, and walked out to my car, piling it all into the trunk. I've been in LA for a few days now, and yesterday I went ahead and purchased a car since I knew I was going to be here for several months at the very least.
I slide into the driver's seat, and I grasp the wheel as I start towards my new home.
During the car ride, it's like I've resorted back to those days right after Harry left. I don't play any music as I drive, and I feel like I'm just going through the motions until I can curl up under the covers of my bed and try to block out the thoughts bouncing back and forth in my mind.
If my mind was making one thing extremely clear though, it was that LA was going to be even more different than I thought when I left those years ago, and I'm not entirely sure if i'm prepared for that.
#harry styles#harry styles au#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles writing#harry edward styles#harry styles smut#harry styles ff#harry styles smutty fanfic#harry smut#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x oc#harry styles x fmc#fanfiction#harry fanfic#harry x oc#harry x fmc#dark!harry#dark!harrystyles#Spotify
35 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
humble-worm
🐛🐸⭐
wysiwyg2
EXPERIMENTIN NSFW! 21+ Only
tempatbekam
Untitled
arpov-blog-blog
A Reasonable Point of View
zoeys-zone
zoey :)