#Is it wrong that my father is hanging out all the time or drinking or smoking despite my mother asking him not to

[italiangirlcoresblog]

main masterlist \\ lewis masterlist

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𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦

✩ : your mother was seen hanging out with lewis hamilton, and now everyone thinks they're a couple; little do they know, they're focusing on the wrong vergara

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 : @ melissamelmaia on ig

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : lewis hamilton

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : humor

✍︎ : guess who still hasn't started writing the lando fic she promised and made this silly little smau instead? (i swear i have the whole story in my head, i just don't have time to put it down 😭)

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f1gossippofficial

93,057 likes

f1gossippofficial 📸 lewis hamilton spotted with actress sofía vergara at breakfast by salt's cure in nyc!

View all 5,955 comments

username1 wait they would actually slay as a couple

username2 i know right

username3 imagine how iconic their dates would be

username4 more like runways with the style they both have

username5 we all know these DIVAS 💜

username6 I SAW THEM AND THOUGHT I WAS GOING CRAZY

username7 models should be thankful these two chose different career paths

username8 THE OUTFITS 🔥🔥🔥

username9 idk who's the more fashionable here

username10 BOAF

username11 fathered and mothered so hard they started dating each other

username12 daddy&mommy fr 🧎‍♀️

username13 and when exactly did we decide they were dating each other?

username14 people can't even hang out anymore without you guys making up entire relationships 💀

username15 i swear like CHILL 😭

username16 our king finally found the queen he deserves 👑

username17 ew no isn't she like 12 years older than him?

username18 so? i don't see the problem

username19 exactly, they're both grown adults and perfectly capable of making their own decisions

username20 nah we stan a good age gap

username21 POWER COUPLE

username22 can't believe we lost her to another man

username23 she's everything, he's just ken 🎀

username24 anyways GET YOUR ASS BACK TO MARANELLO LEWIS WE'RE WINNING THIS YEAR

username25 ah yes, another fellow delusional ferrari fan 🤝

ynvergara

Liked by sofiavergara, lewishamilton and 155,335 others

ynvergara finalmente aterrizada 🛬 🤪

See translation finally landed 🛬 🤪

View all 3,191 comments

sofiavergara ❤️

username26 HOW IS SHE SO PRETTY

username27 i mean she IS sofía's daughter

username28 she got it from her mami duh

username29 the vergara genes are undefeated

username30 landed where bestie?

ynvergara 👀

username31 girl spill, we wanna know 😩

username32 not to scare y'all or anything, but sir lewis hamilton is in the likes

username33 LOLLL

username34 BRO WHAT

username35 hold the fuck up

username36 fam they even follow each other

username37 SINCE UH ☝️ WHEN

username38 am i tripping or does this mean he's actually dating sofía

username39 you mean my husband really stole my wife!?

username40 do you think she knows her new daddy is a 7 time f1 world champion

♥︎ by ynvergara

username41 IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE A YES

username42 MAMA Y PAPA

username43 she's living everyone's dream

username44 please adopt me

deuxmoi

58,506 likes

deuxmoi 1. y/n vergara arriving at the jfk airport last night // 2. and 3. y/n and her mother sofía shopping together in nyc 🗽❤️

View all 2,198 comments

username45 mommy and mother

username46 stop thirsting over every single post ffs

username47 some of you really need to touch the grass

username48 reconnect with nature folks

username49 drink holy water

username50 she's too cute i can't

username51 VICTORIA'S SECRET MODELS WHO???

username52 their vibe is unmatched

username53 imagine being sofía vergara's daughter and going shopping at chanel on a thursday

username54 sadly i can't relate

username55 hot and unbothered 💅

username56 why are we collectively ignoring the fact that she's in new york too

username57 that's relevant how...?

username58 she can't even spend time with her own mother now?

username59 i think they meant it's strange she arrived right after the lewis rumors

username60 omg not everything has to be this deep

f1gossippofficial

94,359 likes

f1gossippofficial 🚨 BREAKING: lewis hamilton seen arriving at a hotel to pick up a mystery girl, which he then took out for dinner at a local restaurant

View all 8,789 comments

username61 leave the poor man alone 💀

username62 no way, he has a social life too!

username63 sometimes i wonder why i'm more invested in other people's life than my own

username63 then i remember my life is boring and go back to obsessing over celebrities

username64 honestly same

username65 i bet that's the hotel where sofía's staying and the "mystery girl" is her

username66 i live right across it and i saw the whole scene, it DEFINITELY was her

username67 my parents are finally together 🥹

username68 idk she looks a little too young to be sofía

username69 we will not 🚫 accept any 🙅‍♀️ form of negativity 👎 in this happy 😄 household 🏡, thank you very much 🙏

username70 you people are more desperate than the tifosi

ynvergara lewishamilton

f1gossippofficial

98,610 likes

f1gossippofficial @ ynvergara and @ lewishamilton stories from tonight's dinner 👀

View all 9,025 comments

username71 and the crowd is more confused than leclerc in monaco 2022

username72 leave charles out of this please, my boy already has enough trauma

username73 fr 😭

username74 it's not strange tho? her mom probably introduced them

username75 i think we took for granted that sofía and lewis are dating

username76 you are one perspicacious fella

username77 WAR IS OVER (people are finally realizing that talking to another human being doesn't mean being romantically involved with them)

username78 my guess is lewis and sofía took y/n out for dinner to tell her about their relationship

username79 NOH

username80 someone please stop this madness i'm begging you

username81 we completely misunderstood the news from the other day and lewis is actually dating y/n STAY WITH ME NOW

username82 he's friends with them ❌️

he's either dating the mom or the daughter ✅️

username83 no because it would make sense

username84 once again, there's still a pretty big age gap

username85 but it feels more right yk

username86 sugar daddy lewis 🫦✨️

username87 y/n probably has enough money to be his sugar daddy

lewishamilton

Liked by charles_leclerc, sofiavergara, ynvergara and 1,996,056 others

lewishamilton moments like these are worth the chaos 🫶🏾

View all 16,943 comments

username88 lewis dear my ship can't sail iF I DON'T KNOW WHO'S ON BOARD

username89 this is not a drill. i repeat, THIS IS NOT A DRILL

username90 we're never gonna hear the end of this now

username91 man just focus on racing

username92 bye bye championship 🥲

username93 what does any of this have to do with the championship???

username94 the season hasn't even started yet stop being so dramatic

username95 i knew the romance was real

username96 ok but the question now is with who

username97 obviously sofía wdym

username98 i call y/n 🗣

username99 whatever it is, i support it 🙂‍↕️

username100 plot twist: it's just nico in a wig

username101 my brocedes heart would be so ready for it

username102 THE MATCHING HATS I'M CRYING

username103 second slide is giving nicole scherzinger

username104 i have a wild theory

username105 WHAT IF IT'S HER

username106 let's not overdo it

username107 i fear that would be too iconic for the world to handle 😔

username108 my forever favorite otp

username109 THE original wag

username110 shall i remember you she's engaged now?

username111 crazy how i spend more time trying to figure out rich people's relationships instead of focusing on mine

ynvergara

Liked by lewishamilton, sofiavergara and 745,954 others

ynvergara lo siento mamá, le gustan jóvenes 😚💋

See translation sorry mom, he likes them young 😚💋

View all 10,198 comments

username112 YO WHAT

username113 girly pop has ZERO chill

username114 THE CAPTION BYEEE

username115 this was not on my 2025 bingo card

username116 y/n at some point this morning: you should know this too

username117 omg i can't, she's like the female version of franco colapinto 😭

username118 pr nightmare in the making

username119 well good luck training HER

username120 the next big menace to society

username121 ✨️she's an icon, she's a legend, and she is the moment✨️

username122 nooo mi novia 😫

See translation nooo my girlfriend 😫

username123 ¿cuándo será mi turno? 💔

See translation when will it be my turn? 💔

username124 can lewis fight???

lewishamilton i can and i will 🤺

ynvergara don't break your back papi chulo ❤️

lewishamilton rude but i'll take the compliment

username125 when sebastian stan's demon possesses me:

username126 lolll our girl already humbling him

username127 SHE'S SO MESSY HELP

username128 "i'll take the compliment" someone's been learning spanish i see

username129 sometimes life isn't fair because wdym i can't call lewis hamilton papi chulo too

username130 how did they even manage to keep it a secret for this long

username131 honestly if i was her i would've told it much sooner

username132 if i was the one dating SIR LEWIS HAMILTON i would brag about it every day of my life 🛐

username68 hate to say i told you so ☝️🤓

username81 SAME

username98 Y/NEWIS DEFENDERS ASSEMBLE

sofiavergara

Liked by ynvergara, lewishamilton and 1,117,611 others

sofiavergara me dijo que te ama, y mientras tú seas feliz, tiene mi permiso ❤️

See translation he told me he loves you, and as long as you're happy, he has my permission to ❤️

View all 13,428 comments

ynvergara te amo más mamá 🥺❤️

See translation i love you more mom 🥺❤️

username133 awww our mama's girl 🎀

username134 they're the sweetest

username135 the queen and her little princess 💕

username136 not a 40-year-old man needing his girlfriend's mother permission to date her 😭

username137 that's common sense i fear

username138 IN A WORLD OF BOYS HE'S A GENTLEMAN

username139 i mean it's not any mother we're talking about, that's sofía margarita vergara

username140 are we really saying that when they were first seen together sofía was giving him the third degree 💀

username141 "grill the grid" has a whole other meaning now

username142 lewis smiling through the pain as he gets absolutely destroyed

username143 the way i would've sold my house to witness this

username144 forget "drive to survive", it's "survive to drive" now

username145 i love how everyone just casually started roasting him

lewishamilton honrado 🙏🏾

See translation honoured 🙏🏾

username146 he's honoured because sofía spared him

username147 my man is so stressed he learnt a new language to communicate

duolingo he knows it's either spanish or vanish 💚

username148 NOT DUO THREATENING AN F1 DRIVER

duolingo who cares about him anyway 😎 (solo dame una oportunidad sofía)

See translation (just give me a chance sofía)

username149 we got duolingo hitting on sofía vergara before gta 6

ynvergara también amo un poquito a mi novio 🫣

See translation i also love my boyfriend a little 🫣

lewishamilton i love you a lot, silly

♥︎ by ynvergara

username150 CRYING IN SINGLE AND BROKE

italiangirlcoresblog being his controversially young girlfriend will always remain my secret dream

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©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[iamnotmereally]

Haha i think my family is slightly falling apart.

[santaasi]

iris

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj maybank struggled all his life just to finally find home in your arms

warnings: fluff, slight angst at the start, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 3.9k

a/n: bringing myself comfort after the spoilers for the final of s4. my baby boy deserved a lot more.

ᯓ★ now playing…

goo goo dolls - iris

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

IT WAS SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT — something so profound that JJ couldn't begin to describe it in words. Yet, he felt it in every cell of his body, in the deepest, most secret corners of his soul. It was as if he was staring into the vastness of the universe, into the boundless, all-consuming darkness that had terrified him since childhood. But now... now it glowed with a hundred, a million, a billion tiny stars — simple, yet magnificent clusters of light that transformed everything in an instant. You became his universe, his everything, and in that moment, everything changed.

JJ would be lying if he said he didn’t remember the exact moment — the exact second — he first met you. He remembered it vividly, like it was etched into his very bones, because that moment was his Big Bang. It was the spark that created the whole universe from nothing, with you as its center, pulling him into an orbit he never thought he’d find.

It was an ordinary day — at least, by JJ’s standards. A typical day filled with drinking, weed, hanging out with Pogues, and the all-too-familiar beatings from his father. After the last one, all he craved was solitude — just to be alone, to fade into the nothingness. To disappear. To stop feeling the weight of pain, to stop wondering what he had done wrong, to stop seeing the pity in his friends’ eyes whenever he showed up at the Chateau, bruised and broken.

For a fleeting moment, he wished he could stop being JJ Maybank — the lost, troubled boy everyone knew — and just be... himself. If only he knew who that was anymore.

It was night — a surprisingly cold summer night. The air carried a chill that seemed at odds with the warmth of the season, but even so, JJ found his haven between the soothing waves. The ocean cradled him gently, rocking him like a child in a mother’s arms, as if the water itself was trying to heal him. He lay on his stomach, his face dipping under the surface, seeking solace in the cool embrace of the sea, trying to drown out the swarm of thoughts buzzing endlessly in his mind.

How long had he been lying there? He couldn’t say. Time had blurred into the rhythm of the waves, and for a moment, he didn’t care. He didn’t expect the next moment to be so... startling.

You stopped just a few meters away, your breath coming in quick, heavy gasps. Your hair clung to your face, and the water began to bite at your skin with its coldness. And yet, in that brief flash of moonlight, JJ swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful than you — divine, even. The glow of the moon reflected off the water, casting a silver sheen over you, making everything seem surreal. Your slightly parted lips, your wide eyes, all caught in the stillness of the night, made something inside him twist. At that moment, he realized something, something terrifying: he was a goner.

"What the hell?"

The words slipped out in unison, an awkward moment of shared surprise. You raised an eyebrow, the frustration and relief mixing in your gaze before you splashed water in his face.

"Are you asking me what the hell?" you said, voice tinged with disbelief. "You were literally floating face down! I thought you were dead!"

JJ blinked, caught off guard, and shook his head, sending droplets flying in every direction. He didn’t respond immediately — his mind was still trying to catch up. He just stared at you, the way the moonlight danced on your skin, how the cold seemed to wash away everything else. There was something about you that both unsettled and comforted him, a mix he couldn’t quite place.

"Yeah, well," he muttered, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t, like, dead. I mean, not really." His voice was hoarse, raw with something he hadn’t let anyone hear in a long time. It barely masked the emptiness he’d been drowning in just moments ago. "Just needed a swim. Didn’t mean to scare you."

You crossed your arms under the water, rolling your eyes, but a soft smile played at the edges of your lips. "Just an ordinary midnight swim, huh?" you teased. But there was a knowing look in your eyes, like you could see through the mask. "I thought I was going to have to explain to the police tomorrow that some guy was found swimming in the ocean. ‘Local girl finds body in the water,’ you know? Not exactly the first week I imagined."

JJ raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "Wait... you’re new here?"

You nodded, brushing your wet hair from your face, a small sigh escaping you as you did. "Yeah, I moved here a few days ago. Needed to start fresh, I guess." Your gaze shifted toward the shore, distant, but not quite lost. "Thought the ocean might help clear my head."

He could relate to that, more than he wanted to admit. He nodded without thinking, something about you felt... different. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice almost vulnerable. "Outer Banks isn’t paradise, but... it could be worse." The words slipped out before he could stop them, softer than he wanted, like a door that had been closed for too long suddenly creaking open. He hadn’t expected to share anything, but with you, it didn’t feel like sharing — it felt more like breathing.

The wind picked up, sending a chill over the water. You shivered slightly, pulling your arms tighter around yourself. JJ noticed, instinctively stepping closer, despite still standing in the water.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern. "Cold night for a swim."

The irony of the moment wasn’t lost on him — he, too, had come to the water to escape, to disappear. But with you standing there, he didn’t feel quite as invisible. And that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

You shrugged, looking toward the shore, but your eyes softened. "Yeah, just... a tough day, I guess. I thought the water might help me forget for a little while."

A bitter laugh slipped from JJ’s lips, and he didn’t try to hide it. "Well, looks like you found the right company for that," he said, his words more raw than he’d intended. But somehow, it felt natural to talk like this, to say things he hadn’t said to anyone in a long time. With you, it didn’t feel so forced.

You turned toward him, your expression softening. There was understanding in your eyes — like you’d been there too. "Tough day too, huh?" you said quietly, your voice almost lost in the stillness of the night.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath, the ocean around you a calm, sacred space. In that silence, something passed between you — unspoken, but real. As if for that moment, you both shared something intangible, something neither of you could put into words.

Finally, you broke the quiet, your voice teasing but gentle. "So... are you always this mysterious, or did I just pick the perfect time to meet you?"

A laugh escaped him, more genuine than he expected. "Maybe a little of both." He let the silence stretch on, comfortable now. For the first time in ages, he felt seen, and it wasn’t as frightening as he thought it would be.

It was ridiculous, he thought — how could a complete stranger, someone he’d just met in the middle of the ocean, at some ungodly hour, feel like they were filling a space inside him he never knew was empty?

But when he looked at you, he felt something shift, something deep inside. Something real. Something alive.

"JJ," he finally said, his voice breaking the silence. The sound of his own name felt unfamiliar, like a piece of himself he hadn’t shared in too long.

You gave him a soft smile that reached your eyes, warm and knowing. "Nice to meet you, JJ."

AND THERE IT WAS — his universe had changed. The Big Bang.

After that night, JJ couldn’t think about anything but you. Your presence consumed him, yet in a way that felt like coming alive for the first time. He found himself drifting into your orbit, again and again, as if fate itself had been guiding him toward you all along. But while he believed in fate, you thought it was just chance.

It wasn’t long before JJ began to learn more about you, obsessing over every little detail. He learned that you loved spending your free time on the beach, reading books. Books that he had never bothered with before, but now he listened to them at double speed just to be able to talk to you about them. You had a habit of finding solace in the water, the way the waves seemed to ease the weight of the world from your shoulders. And he learned that you worked in a small diner on the Cut, a place that barely registered on anyone else’s radar but was now a part of his daily life.

It became his mission to visit those places. To catch your eye, exchange a few words. He even went to some Save the Turtles event with Kie — something he’d never have attended before — just to see you, just to find a reason to talk.

He didn't know why he was so drawn to you. Why waking up felt a little easier when he thought about you. Why his days felt less suffocating when he could see you by the ocean, or feel your warmth when you wrapped him up in your arms. And most importantly — why, in a world where he wanted to stay invisible, he wanted you to see him. Because no one, not even the closest people in his life, had ever truly understood him like you did.

It might have sounded corny, but JJ knew you were different. He didn’t want to undress you or get you into bed first, like he did with other girls. He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know you. He wanted to be near you — not in a rushed, desperate way, but slowly, patiently, like the world had all the time for them. And that terrified him. Because everything in his life felt like it was bound to break, and he was scared of getting too close, only to watch it all fall apart.

But you made him feel like he was floating, like he was finally seeing the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. And even if it didn’t last forever, he would take it. It was worth it.

Because at some moment you became his safe place. His home.

JJ DIDN'T REMEMBER THE EXACT MOMENT HE FIRST CAME TO YOUR HOUSE, or why he couldn’t go back to the Chateau after the latest fight with his father. He just knew that he had found his way to you. It wasn’t a conscious choice. It was as if the universe had decided that, for once, he deserved peace. So, he climbed up to your balcony, hiding from the world, just to see you.

The moment he stepped inside, he felt the weight of everything lift from his chest. You didn't need to ask questions, you didn’t need explanations. You just held him — no judgment, no demands. Just there. Your hands gently cupped his face, and in that simple gesture, everything felt easier. It was like you knew exactly how much he needed to be held together. The comfort in your touch was so raw, so real, that it felt like he could stay there forever and nothing would ever hurt him again.

"Hey, JJ," you whispered softly as you cleaned the cuts on his knuckles. "You're okay. It's just another day. We'll get through it."

Your words were soft, but they carried a weight. The kind of weight that made him feel like, maybe, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t carrying all the burden on his own.

"Yeah, we will," he whispered looking in your eyes finding solace in it. "How'd your day go?" he asked quietly, almost as an afterthought, as you dabbed at a cut on his forehead.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You know, the usual. Serving coffee, cleaning tables... Same old stuff. But then again, it’s a good distraction.”

And JJ realized, right then, that this wasn’t just about him. It wasn’t just about the mess of his life. It was about the way you understood him without needing to understand everything. You were healing him, piece by piece, without even knowing it.

You were there, not because you had to be, but because you wanted to be. And when you laid him down in your bed, curling up beside him, you whispered about your day at work, your own small struggles. You shared your world with him, and somehow, it made his feel a little less heavy.

IT WASN'T LONG BEFORE JJ OPENED UP TO YOU, really opened up in a way he had never done before. It was a slow burn at first. He kept his distance, guarding you from the mess that was his life. But the longer he stayed, the more he realized that you were the one who saw him. All of him — the messed-up, broken parts that he tried so hard to hide from everyone else. And when he realized you weren’t scared of that, he finally let go.

"I used to think that if I told you about my life, you'd leave," he admitted one night, his voice thick with raw emotion. "But... you didn’t. You stayed."

You looked at him, your expression tender, your hands tracing the edge of his jawline. "I'm not going anywhere, JJ. Not unless you want me to."

And that was the moment he knew — he had found someone who understood him in a way no one ever had. No one ever would.

One night, after sharing stories and secrets until the stars outside had started to fade, you both found yourselves standing close, the air thick with unspoken words. There was a nervousness between you, but also a tenderness that neither of you had known before. JJ leaned in, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate. It was soft, hesitant, and filled with the kind of understanding that only comes when two people truly see each other. His lips were warm against yours, the moment suspended in time. And as he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered softly, “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

You didn’t need to say anything in return. The truth was already in your eyes, in the way you pulled him closer, your hands tracing the lines of his back like you were memorizing him. He didn’t need forever. He didn’t need promises. He just needed this. You. Now. And that was enough.

THE EVENING WAS SETTLING INTO ITS QUIET RYTHM AT THE CHATEAU. The Pogues were scattered around, some laughing, some lost in their own thoughts, and some just lounging by the bonfire. The air smelled faintly of saltwater and smoke, the crackling warmth from the fire barely reaching the edge of the pier. The world felt suspended in a beautiful hush, as though the universe itself had exhaled, and for the briefest of moments, everything stood still.

But despite the presence of his friends, despite the fire, the laughter, and the constant noise that filled every corner of the Chateau, JJ was focused only on you. Your presence was like gravity, pulling him closer to something real, something tangible. You were his escape, his universe — shaped not by chaos and pain, but by a quiet peace he had never known until you.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked softly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your voice was gentle, threading through the sea breeze that fluttered your hair, causing it to stray in wisps across your face. You frowned slightly as the breeze brushed against your skin, the hair teasing at your cheek in an almost playful, yet annoying way. He loved how you could get lost in these little moments, how even the simplest things seemed to pull you in.

JJ, ever the thinker, gazed out at the vast ocean, where the horizon was a delicate line between the fading light of the day and the endless mystery of the night. There was something about the sea — so unpredictable, so endless — that made him feel both small and infinite. It was like he could feel the weight of the universe pressing on his chest, but at the same time, it gave him a sense of freedom, of release.

He shook his head, not really having the words to explain the depth of his thoughts, of how you had become his entire universe in such a short time. He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead in a kiss that felt like a promise, like a quiet vow he was ready to keep forever.

"I love you," he said simply, the words falling so easily from his lips it startled him. It was like his heart had always known the truth, but now, with you, it could finally speak it. He turned to face you, his hands gently cupping your face, and pushed a strand of hair back behind your ear. Your hair had tangled slightly in the breeze, and his fingers brushed against the soft strands as if trying to keep you grounded in this moment.

You smiled up at him, your eyes warm with affection, and for a brief second, JJ wondered if he had been imagining all of this — the way your touch made him feel alive, how your laugh filled him with a joy that felt as though he was living in a dream. He had never been one to express his feelings out loud, never been able to put his heart on the line like that. But with you, everything felt different. Everything felt right.

"I love you, too," you whispered, the words barely escaping your lips, but JJ felt the weight of them — felt how real they were, how they shifted the space between you, making it smaller, warmer, more intimate. It was like the universe had shifted in that moment, like the stars aligned just for the two of you.

But you, ever the one to keep things light, laughed softly, breaking the moment in the most perfect way. Your laugh rang out like music, a melody he couldn’t get enough of. "But everyone knows that, stupid! It’s no secret that you’re head over heels in love with me," you teased, brushing his hair out of his eyes, as if trying to bring him back down from whatever cosmic place his mind had drifted to.

JJ chuckled, the sound deep and sincere. There was no pretense, no walls. Just the two of you, surrounded by the night and the ocean, and for the first time, he felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. His smile was soft but real, and he kissed you once, gently, on the tip of your nose, then moved to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, your forehead, each kiss like a reassurance that this moment, this feeling, was real.

"You don't get it, do you?" JJ murmured, his voice a little more serious than the moment required. He let the silence stretch between you before continuing. "It’s not just... about love, doll. It’s about everything. It’s the way you make me see the world in a way I never thought I would. The way you make me feel like... like I’m enough." His voice softened with a vulnerability he hadn’t known he could express. "Before you, everything was just a blur. I didn’t even know how to be, to feel. But with you? It’s different. You make me real, love."

You looked at him, your gaze tender, understanding. Your eyes softened, and without a word, you reached out and pulled him in for a tight hug. JJ rested his head against your shoulder, inhaling the soft scent of your skin, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning. It was just the two of you, and for the first time in a long time, JJ felt truly alive.

He had spent so many years running from everything that hurt him, pushing away anything that could cause him pain. But in that moment, wrapped in your embrace, the fear was gone. There was nothing left but the two of you, standing on the edge of the world, with the ocean stretching out before you like an endless promise.

"I never thought I’d say it," he whispered, his words coming out in a quiet rush. "But you’re my Big Bang. The thing that changed everything for me. Before you, it felt like I was drifting through the void, like there was nothing in this world worth holding on to. But now..." He pulled away slightly, looking at you with a newfound intensity. "Now, you’re my everything. You gave me a reason to stay."

Your fingers lightly brushed against his cheek, the touch so gentle it felt like a feather. You looked at him, eyes searching his face, and you smiled softly. "You don't have to be alone anymore, JJ. You’ve never been alone." Your voice was quiet, but the sincerity behind it struck him like a bolt of lightning. "We're in this together."

A small laugh escaped him, a sound that felt almost foreign but so freeing. The way you made him feel — like he was seen, understood, held — it was beyond anything he could have imagined. You were the gravity in his universe, pulling him in, holding him steady. And no matter how far out he drifted, he always knew he'd find his way back to you.

"You make me feel like the world is full of stars," he murmured, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "Like everything that’s ever happened to me — good or bad — led me to you. Like I was just waiting for you to come and show me what it’s like to be."

You grinned, a playful glint in your eyes. "Well, don't get too carried away, Maybank. I’m not that amazing."

JJ smiled, but there was something raw in his expression, something that hinted at all the things he could never quite put into words. "You are," he said softly. "You are my everything. And for once, I’m not afraid to let myself feel it."

The world stretched out before you, both of you standing at the precipice of something so beautiful, so uncertain, yet so undeniable. The stars above shimmered like tiny promises, like constellations forming their own quiet narrative about two souls finding each other in the vast, infinite expanse of the universe. And in that moment, the ocean, the stars, the wind, and the night itself seemed to pause, holding its breath.

"I love you. So much," JJ whispered again, his voice filled with the certainty that had settled deep within him. It was simple, but it was everything. The words echoed, not just through the air, but through his heart, through his bones, reverberating in a way he never thought was possible. And as the night embraced them both, they realized that they had found their place in the world. Together.

And for the first time, JJ Maybank wasn’t afraid to be seen. Because you saw him. And that was enough

thankx for reading <3

so, that’s it. jj maybank deserved the whole world but only got this shitty ending. am i gonna watch obx4 now? probably not. am i gonna write for jj like there’s no s4? definitely yes! i think we’ll all agree that obx ended on s3 and after that nothing happened.

but every time i see the posts about jj i feel so sad… like it literally hurts on some level because he deserved his happy ending more than anyone. even if rudy wanted to leave the show they could have written a good ending for him. not one more fucked up father, but one that would take him to see the world or shit like this. i just wanted him to be happy.

i chose iris because this is so jj coded for me. i haven’t listened to this song in ages and when it popped up in my shuffle yesterday – i just wanted it to be about jj. with all his struggles, all his pain, but also with a hope for something good. so, i rly hope that you liked this work.

and again thank u for reading. thank u for liking, reblogging and commenting - it’s rly means a lot to me. you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

[woso-dreamzzz]

Wiped Out III

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your first start of the season

Today was meant to be a good day.

Today was meant to be a great day.

It's your first start of the season.

Your parents are here to see you.

Your mother. Your father. Frido's parents too.

Today was meant to be perfect.

"You'll do great," Frido says, a soft kiss landing on the top of your head.

You don't answer her, suddenly feeling shy as you go and warm up.

"Which ones are your parents?" Ingrid asks as her eyes rove over the stands," They are coming today, right? I think Frido said."

"Over there." You point an errant hand over to the friends and family section.

Ingrid narrows her eyes as she takes in all the people sitting there. "I don't see them."

"There! By the aisle."

Ingrid's brow furrows. "That's Frido's parents."

She would recognise them anywhere. She's been in their house enough times to recognise them from a distance.

"No, they're mine. Papa always wears the blue shirt to my matches. He doesn't like jerseys."

"No. That's Frido's father."

"I think I can recognise my own father, Ingrid," You say with an eye roll.

"No. I'm sure-"

"Our father's are twins," Frido says in passing, handing you for bottle to drink from.

"They are?"

"Identical," You put in, passing Frido back her bottle," And our mums."

"What?"

"Our mums are identical twins too."

Ingrid looks between you and your cousin, mouth opening and closing for a moment before she sighs. "Your fathers, a pair of identical twins...married another pair of identical twins. And had you two?"

Frido doesn't answer.

But you do.

"Yeah? What's so confusing about that?"

"So you're sisters then."

"No," Frido snaps quickly, voice hard before she looks away," I mean, no. We're cousins."

"But I mean, genetically, you're siblings. If you're from two sets of identical twins..."

"We're not," Frido snaps again, shaking her head like the whole idea was stupid," We're cousins. Nothing more. Nothing less."

"Geez, Frido," You laugh, bumping your shoulder against hers," I'm trying not to be offended here. I'd be a great sister."

Frido's eyes soften like they always do when she looks at you and she fondly tugs on the lock of hair that always escapes your ponytail no matter what either of you do.

Ingrid doesn't push anymore on the topic, especially when it's so clear that Frido's got some strange hang up on it.

The match starts like any other and nothing seems out of the ordinary.

It's as intense as any other match is but just like every other match you've played in, Barcelona are solidly in control.

You frown a little as you and Mapi stand over a free kick, an odd twinge in the back of your leg that you rub. Maybe it's not in your leg actually, maybe it's actually in your chest.

A weird feeling that just won't settle.

You push it away though because this is your first free kick as a Barcelona player despite having been here a season now.

It was a new thing Pere was trying.

He'd been going over old film and came across an old set of videos of when you played for one of the Sweden youth teams. You'd been the dedicated free kick taker ever since you arrived, scoring goal after goal after goal no matter where you were on the pitch.

"Take it," Mapi says from behind her hand, trying to disguise the choice.

The twinge in your hamstring dampens as you push it from your mind, nodding.

Both you and Mapi take steps back.

She runs across you and then you move.

You know something is wrong the moment your foot touches grass.

The ball speeds from your strike, neatly landing in the top corner and passed the keeper's outstretched hand.

The team celebrate but you're on the ground.

Something between a squeak and a yelp make its way out of your mouth as your hamstring flares in pain.

The Johan erupts in noise at your first goal of the season but you can hear nothing over the roar in your ears and the pain in your leg.

Tears sting your eyes as a shadow falls over you.

Your cousin is there like she is every time you're injured like some kind of avenging angel.

But you don't want her right now.

You're in pain. You feel vulnerable. You feel like a little girl needing her boo boo kissed after scraping her skin at the park.

"Mama," You sob," I want Mama."

"It's okay," Frido tries to soothe you, something like confliction in her eyes," Come on. It's okay."

You grasp at her hand, squeezing tightly. "Frido, I want my Mama."

"Shh, shh, it's alright. It's going to be okay."

The medics rush on quickly as well and you try to kick them away with your one good leg.

"Stop...Stop!" You shriek when they touche your injury.

"We need to get her off," One of them says and Frido nods.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" You may be injured, in tears and vulnerable but you'd like to keep some essence of your already shattered dignity.

"Can you stand?" Frido asks, tenderly brushing your cheek with her hand.

"I..." You want to say yes but you know the correct answer. You shake your head.

"We're going to need a stretcher," One of the medics speaks into their radio and within a minute or so, you're being helped into it.

You catch Frido's hand as she walks with you to the touchline.

"You'll tell them to get Mama?"

Frido blinks away some of her own tears. "I'll...I'll tell them to send auntie."

It takes barely an hour for the diagnosis to come back.

A torn hamstring.

A torn hamstring that needs surgery.

Which means months out of football, months of recovery and rehab.

You wonder briefly if you'll get to go to the Euros this summer.

Sweden still haven't qualified yet. You won't be apart of the squad for that campaign but if they do qualify, you wonder if you'll be back and strong enough to join the Euros team.

Mama holds your hand though.

Papa and Uncle and Auntie are still in the stands watching Frido but Mama is with you, holding your hand as you suck on a green whistle to take the edge off.

She presses a soft kiss to the top of your head as her hands gently card through your hair.

You stopped crying a while ago as you nestle into her, head on her chest like you used to do to her and Frido when you were little.

The sounds of studs on flooring alerts you to your cousin coming and you sit up just as the door swings open.

"Hey," She says, panting.

"Hey," You reply.

She squishes onto the other side of your bed. It's a tight fit but Frido makes it work, taking your other hand. "So...What are we looking at?"

"Torn hamstring," Your Mama replies," She's going to need surgery."

"I hate it when you two talk over me."

"How long are we thinking she'll be out?"

"Six months."

"No!" You huff, drawing the attention of your Mama and Frido. "He said six months are the latest. Three months minimum. I'll be ready in three months."

Frido and your Mama exchange twin looks.

"I'll be ready then! I will!"

Mama continues to stroke through your hair and Frido squeezes your head.

"Recovery takes time," You cousin says," You shouldn't rush things."

"I'm not going to rush things. I'm not an idiot, Frido. But I will be ready in three months and I'll be healthy for the rest of the season. And then we'll compete in the Euros. Like we said we would."

Your Mama sighs. "You're both just as stubborn as each other. You get it from Frido you know."

Frido tenses a barely imperceptible amount next to you.

"How did I get it from Frido?" You laugh," Via telepathy?"

"Yeah," Frido laughs too but it doesn't meet her eyes," Something like that."

[beiasluv]

yes, and? | f1 d!lfs

a/n: Ariana popped tf off with that house music, but ngl I have mixed feelings abt her allegations. don’t be a homewrecker bitches 😘

aussiegrit

liked by oscarpiastri, fernandoalo_official and 96,279 others

aussiegrit Ride a Porsche, save a horse…😆 yourinsta

view all 3,627 comments

fernandoalo_official nice caption 🙌🤣

aussiegrit got a smart gal 😊😂

username thatshouldbemeholdjngyourhanddd

username mark and yn are weird. prove me wrong.

username don’t be a hater if she’s having fun

username having sex with someone’s husband is fun?

username ain’t no one saying that yet

username if I see a dilf using the laughing emoji unironically again I will combust

username then I’ve got good news for you..

username ICONIC QUEEN SHITT

username Honestly get that bag gurlll

username Yn is a grown woman, should’ve known not to mingle with an older man

username is it so depressing to see a successful young woman having a fun time?

yourinsta

liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and 218,718 others

yourinsta ride or die (literally) 😙

view all 35,256 comments

jensonbutton careful love

yourinsta will do 🤭

username hang out with people your age

username stay mad, go touch some grass

landonorris we literally drive fast car for life 💀

yourinsta I KNOW 😭😭

yourinsta when are you visiting 😔

landonorris soonn

username ERM Where.

sebastianvettel glad you had fun schatz

yourinsta anytimee 🫶

username sebastian went skiing and no fucking picture. I’m devastated.

username what exactly are you riding 🤭

username she slayed for that

username DONT TAKE TREACHEROUS ROADS

username DONT MAKE UNNECESSARILY JOURNIES

jensonbutton

liked by yourinsta, aussiegrit, and 122,017 others

jensonbutton off seasonal things 🤣.

view all 28,167 comments

yourinsta slow your horses on drinking mr button

jensonbutton will do love 😉

yourinsta I’ll keep an eye on that.

username taking care of her old man You go girlll

username was this the Santa hat he got from Fernando 😭😭

username it’s also likely that one of them gifted the whiskey as well

username nobody can stop yn and her dilfs on this summer break

username HELL YEAH

username not complaining for the lack of content from the current grid (except Ms gurl herself)

yourinsta

liked by oscarpiastri, mickschumacher and 186,297 others

yourinsta I have no more storage 😔

view all 21,627 comments

sebastianvettel sorry schatz ❤️

yourinsta I maybee forgive you

username grow tf upp

username she got them down bad and you mad??

landonorris why is your phone crustyy

yourinsta I SWEAR IT’S THEMM

yourinsta my selfies ate 🤭

username PERIODDD

username get yourself sweaty old dilfss

jensonbutton deleting is not an option love

aussiegrit buying a new one is

username OH???

username be my sugar daddy please 😩🙏

username Oscar and mick basically cringing at their father figure

username Respect the original rizz gurll

username Sebastian was and still is the original rizz, ask yn 😘

username kimi what are you doing hereeee

f1gossips

liked by username, username and 39,728 others

f1gossips Ricciardo, Vettel, Button, Alonso, and Ln spotted in a holiday in Ibiza, Spain. More attendants to be confirmed.

- admin

view all 2,610 comments

username honestly it’s kinda weird that she keeps on hanging out with the older grid while she is literally a Mercedes driver?

username and what’s wrong with hanging out with people outside the current grid

username idk seems kinda weird to me, older men..

username if she’s getting that bag I respect her cause why tf not?

username homewrecker much?

username desperate much?

username homewrekcerr so coquette 🎀

username you guys don’t get it (I GET HERR)

username Spain… so is Carlos joining??

username and Lando’s comment??

username I swear they need to show tf up

yourinsta

liked by aussiegrit, sebastianvettel and 186,727 others

yourinsta told you my selfies ate 😘

view all 18,017 comments

aussiegrit beautiful sunshine ❤️

yourinsta wish you were heree

aussiegrit I’ll definitely see you soon honey

username never let mark know what a dm is so I can keep reading their texts

username if you look closely into the background you can see me drowning in my tears

username omg same!! twinss

carlossainz55 did you pierced your tongue?

yourinsta no?? why would I do that

username why are they so siblings 😭

sebastianvettel

liked by yourinsta, lance_stroll and 385,167 others

sebastianvettel trip dump or whatever the kids say?

view all 27,526 comments

yourinsta correcto

liked by sebastianvettel

username get away from my mann 😘😘

username ngl you got me in the first half

username can the summer break be longer 😭😩

username I miss the dilf trip already. I have nothing to look forward to anymore

username how to…be…a dog ✍️

f1gossips

liked by username, username and 27,156 others

f1gossips Mark Webber and David Coulhart spotted at the Porsche convention, Melbourne, Australia. Lando Norris confirmed in joining the Ibiza trip last week as seen with a fan at a restaurant

view all 962 comments

username i know exactly what you are doing by putting mark in this

username so was it Mark??? 🤭🤭

username Mark please comeback 😭

username come back the kids miss you 😩

username so was it true that she fucked one of them?

username WHAT? WHO WHERE WHEN

username it was rumor but idk guessed it would’ve spiraled at the trip

username had a feeling that it was Sebastian 🤷‍♀️

username SAMEE TWINSS

yourinsta

liked by jensonbutton, aussiegrit and 426,268 others

yourinsta yes, and?

view all 197,727 comments

username OMF MISS QUEENNN

username QUEEN SHIT BITCH

username ITS CONFIRMEDD

username so can I call her ariana now? ���💀

yall know the drill, interact if you liked it😘😘 let me know who’s your favorite f1 dilf

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

[fairlyang]

Appreciate 🕷️

caught masturbating while babysitting

w/c: 5.1K

pairing: dilfneighbor!miguel x latinababysitter!reader

tags: 18+ smut. slow burn oops, age gap (not specified but reader is early 20's, mig early 30's, dirty thoughts ensue, caught masturbating, he helps you out, fingering, staying quiet

notes: the getting caught fucking KILLED me rn while editing I cannot😭

Miguel O'Hara was one of your neighbors and your parents quickly got a liking to the single father across the street. He was very laidback and kind, accommodating with all the neighbors for literally anything.

So considering that when Miguel would say he never had time for himself due to always taking care of his daughter, Gabriella, your dad told him you'd be happy to babysit for him while he took him out to get a couple drinks with a few of the other dads in the neighborhood.

But of course you had no fucking clue this conversation was even had until the day your dad promised him some drinks.

"Oye mija le prometí a Miguel que ibas a quedar a su hija para sacarlo a tomarnos unos tragos." He tells you standing by your doorway while you sat on your bed and then just walks away. (Hey honey I promised Miguel that you were going to take care of his daughter so we could take him out to have a couple drinks)

"Porque hiciste eso?!!?!" You yelled and quickly hopped out of bed and ran after him beyond pissed. (Why did you do that?!!?!)

"Si apenas me estaba alistando para salir con mis amigas no chingues!!!!" You screamed following down the stairs in your heels that clicked on every step. (I was just getting ready to go hang out with my friends. it's a phrase that can be used for shock or when shit goes wrong)

"Pues dile a Miguel que se canceló el plan entonces." He says so confident you wouldn't do it until you walk past him and heading straight to the front door. (Then go tell Miguel that the plans are canceled)

"AY OKAY! Que quieres?" He says and rolls his eyes as you turn around to face him. (What do you want?)

"Me debes un enorme favor. Lo que sea cuando te lo pida." You say and point a finger at him, just to show you really mean it. (You owe me enormous favor. Whatever it is, whenever I ask you of it)

"Ya que-" (ugh whatever- or like 'since I have no other choice')

"Tu mismo te hiciste esto." You quickly cut him off and he only groans. (You only did this to yourself)

"Pues deja me pongo cómoda. Ya que no tengo otra opción." You say and glare at him to which he only gives you a goofy smile. (Let me get comfortable. Now that I don't have another option)

You reluctantly went upstairs, annoyed that this was how your Friday night was gonna go over going clubbing with your friends.

But shit happens, what can you really do?

You go back to your room and take off your perfectly chosen red mini dress and put the sweats you were wearing earlier back on. You then grab a tee shirt that had hello kitty on it with some sunglasses, hoping to get some brownie points by the little girl at least.

You then slip on a pair of purple crocs and you're done. Until you realized you had already put your makeup on so now you have to take it off.

What a waste.

You grab a makeup wipe that you had on your desk and wipe off your eye makeup, then everything else only leaving your lips alone.

Then grabbing your phone off your bed, sending a quick text to your friends that you can't make it and you head back downstairs. "Vámonos." Your dad says and snaps his finger as if he has any room to complain. (Let's go.)

He opened the front door and you walked out right behind him as you mumble how annoying he was to which he told you to just calm down and it wouldn't be that bad.

You walked across the street and stepped up to his front door, your dad ringing the doorbell to which you then hear loud footsteps coming from inside.

Then the door opens by none other than the very energetic 8 year old. This was going to be a long night...

You smile down at her and give her a wave which she returns and gives you a toothy grin of her own. "Gabi donde está tu papá?" You asked and she just pointed up. (where's your dad?)

"Se está poniendo sus tenis! Dijo voy a jugar con alguien nueva." She says and goes back inside letting out giggles as she walks to the living room. (He's putting on his shoes! He said I get to play with someone new)

You follow her in and see coloring books, crayons, colored pencils and markers all over the coffee table in front of the tv. "Te gusta colorear?" She asked as she takes a seat behind the table as you make your way around the couch to sit on the floor with her. (Do you like to color?)

"Si me encanta!" You say and her eyes lit up. (Yes I love it!)

Suddenly you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and straighten up as Miguel comes down giving you a bright smile.

And lord did he clean up nice.

He was wearing a black button up with some jeans and black boots, and his hair slicked back. You gave him a smile as he walked over to you and Gabi, who was also shining her big smile. "Papi también le gusta colorear!!" She says jumping up onto the couch and grinning ear to ear. (she also likes to color!!)

He gasps and tickles her sides making her erupt into fits of giggles, "de verdad?" He says and turns to you, to which you give a small shrug and just smile. (really?)

He stops tickling her and she hops off the couch just to sit back down on the floor. You turn to him and he walks around the couch leaning down, and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek to which you return at the same time.

"Thank you so much for this, I really appreciate it." He says and you pull back, waving him off before he continues, "Gabi's on a little sugar rush right now but she'll be calm within the next hour and will want to go to bed right after. She's a very deep sleeper so feel free to use the tv and help yourself to any of the food."

You nod and watch as he bends over and whispers something to her ear to which Gabi nods and gives him a thumbs up. He gets up and mouthed another thank you then walks out the front door.

Maybe this won't be too bad.

And it wasn't.

You ended up coloring two pages of a finding nemo coloring book while she was coloring on a spongebob coloring book. And surprisingly stayed in the lines.

After that she wanted you to play with her dolls to which you felt happy to, it was like reliving your childhood and she was such a sweet kid.

You noticed it was 8pm and helped Gabi put away all her coloring things and let her lead you to her bedroom.

She runs in as you carry her art supplies and she points to a desk for you to leave them on.

You walk over to her dresser where Miguel left a pair of pjs for her to put on and help her take off shoes as well as her glittery shirt and pants.

She then puts on her pjs and goes off to brush her teeth all by herself. Made your job even easier.

She runs back in after a few minutes and plops down onto her bed, "can you tuck me in? Porfis?" She asks and give little puppy dog eyes. (Please)

"Of course." You nod and walk over to her princess bed.

"Como un burrito!" She giggles making you laugh. (Like a burrito!)

So you pull her blanket over her body and let her lift her arms before tucking her in tightly which just made the little girl giggle. You go down and tuck her nicely tight before coming up and passing her the stuffed animal she was reaching for.

A spider.

Weird option but it had cute eyes.

"Goodnight Gabi, sueña de cosas bonitas." You whisper and smile at her as she gives you one back. (dream of pretty things)

You turn off her lamp from her bedside table, then walk towards her door, turning the light switch off before finally closing the door.

You head downstairs, turning off all the lights, and plop down on one of the couches in the living room. You scroll on your phone but then quickly grow bored so you reach over the coffee table and grab the remote control.

You turn the tv on and go through the apps they had and decide to watch 'A Nightmare on Elm Street'. You kick your crocs off then make yourself comfortable before turning to watch the tv.

You got to watch the first scene before your eyes started fluttering and you pass out.

You don't wake up until you hear the jingle of the door and you jump up, wiping your eyes and sitting up to watch Miguel come through the door, surprisingly not shit faced.

You stood up and greeted him with a hug, then a kiss on the cheek as he gives you one back. "Como les fue?" You ask and he shrugs. (How'd it go?)

You then pull away and take quick notice of the lipstick stains along his neck. You look back up at him and he smiles, "estuvo bien." (It was good)

Sure looks like it.

You shrug and smile, "que bien! If you need me to babysit just let my parents know and hopefully I'll be available." You offer and he sighs. (That's good!)

"I really appreciate it," he starts and takes his wallet out which you look at with a confused look, "me vale que era un favor, no me siento bien en no pagarte un poco." (I don't care that it was a favor, I feel bad in not paying you a little bit)

"Y más porque tu papá me dijo que tu ya tenías planes y ni sabías de esto." He says with a sympathetic smile while handing you a $50 bill. (And more because your dad told me that you had plans and didn't even know about this)

You widen your eyes and shake your head, "no te preocupes! Está bien y Gabi se porto bien! No me tienes que pagar Miguel." You say and wave him off. (Don't worry about it! It's okay and Gabi behaved well! You don't have to pay me.)

"Por favor tómalo, me siento mal. Agarra el dinero para que tomes con tus amigas, yo picho." He says, letting out a chuckle at the last two words and you sigh. (Please take it, I feel bad. Grab the money so you can drink with your friends, I'll pay."

His eyes were pleading and it looked like he felt bad but it wasn't even his fault. If anything your dad should be the one paying.

"Si no para la próxima le digo a Gabi que lo esconda en tu ropa." He threatens making you burst out laughing. (If not for the next time I'll tell Gabi to hide it in your clothes)

"Creo que quiero ver eso..." you joke and he laughs. (I think I wanna see that)

"Mis papas me matarán si lo tomo Miguel. De verdad estás bien!" You reassure him and he sighs. (My parents will kill me if I take it Miguel. Seriously you're fine!)

"Eres bien terca." He mutters and you scoff. (You're very stubborn)

A smirk tugs on his lips and you had to fight the thoughts entering your mind. Sure he was fine as hell, you already knew that but you shouldn't be thinking this mid conversation.

"Maybe next time I'll accept it!" You say and shrug as he slides the bill back in his wallet.

"Fine." He sighs in defeat and tilts his head to the side, "but I'll still make Gabi hide it in your clothes just for good measure." He jokes making you smile.

"Yeah yeah." You wave him off and walk past him to the front door.

"Thank you again, I appreciate it." He says turning to face you and opens the door for you.

"Course! Anytime, and now I'll actually know about it." You joke making him roll his eyes.

"Tu papá es algo más." He says and you nod. (Your dad is something else)

"Lo se." You mutter and finally walk out before you waste anymore of his time. (I know)

"Cuidate!" He shouts as you walk out of his porch and onto the sidewalk. (Stay safe!)

You turn back to him and wave before turning back and crossing the street back to your house. You open the door assuming your dad didn't lock it and sure enough it was open.

As you stepped in and closed the door you noticed Miguel was still outside his door, making sure you did stay safe.

So sweet.

You give him one last wave before closing the door and immediately head to your room.

You open the door and quickly close it before taking off your crocs once again and plopping down onto your bed.

And now finally your thoughts could roam free.

His hair was slicked back before he left the house, right now that shit was all over the place.

And the lipstick stains on his neck??

He definitely got his own fun tonight but you couldn't help but feel so jealous.

It's not your fault if you occasionally had a wandering eye whenever Miguel was around.

Or peeking out through your bedroom window to watch him when he mowed the lawn. Shirtless.

Or stare at him longer than you should at random carne asadas the neighbors would host.

It was natural for a young woman to feel attraction towards an older man like him.

Especially with daddy issues but that's besides the point-

He stood out from the other dads in the neighborhood, he was younger. Respectful, kind, helpful.

Everything a woman could ever ask for.

So you couldn't help but instantly felt a twinge of jealousy when you saw the lipstick stains on his neck.

Why couldn't that be you that left them?

At least now you know he looked really good in red..

But at what cost? Feeling your entire being now getting taken over by jealousy of a man you have no right to and probably stand no chance in ever having?

Or touching...

And there came the horny thoughts that always seemed to appear in the back of your mind. He always just did something to you. Your body couldn't help but want him, crave him, his touch.

So you repeated the endless cycle of anytime you see him just having to masturbate. It was becoming a bad habit, but not hurting anyone.

——————

Alas you had to use your own fingers to make you cum and not Miguel's. Again.

But you moved on and let the next day pass. Nothing eventful happened, and there were no Miguel sightings to be found.

That was until you got a text from an unknown number and low and behold it was the man you were daydreaming about all day.

Unknown number

Hey it's Miguel! I asked your dad for your number, hope that's fine but was wondering if you could babysit for me tmrw?

Got scheduled for a late shift at the lab and don't want Gabi home alone🥲

It was embarrassing how quickly you started typing your response but how could you say no?

You're good!! And I'd love to! What time?

No way he could sense your desperation to see him again through text. Right?

You added him to your contacts before he finally texts back.

Miguel💞

Around 6, getting out at midnight so please let me pay you this time

You sigh and quickly type back.

Alrightttt

And sounds good I'll be seeing you guys tmrw:)

And with that no more messages from him came in but he left a like to your second message.

And the rest of your night was uneventful besides the occasional wet dream filling your mind and distracting you.

——————

It was the next day and you were practically counting down the hours until you had to go babysit.

Given you wouldn't even see Miguel for too long before or after but still. You'd have to make do with the amount of time you will see him.

But because you knew you'd just be playing or coloring with Gabi again, you decided to just dress comfortably over trying to impress Miguel for less than five minutes.

So sweats and a tee shirt again but no bra because who the fuck wants to willingly wear a bra for six hours?

Yeah right.

Now all dressed you grabbed your airpods and phone, slipped your crocs on and went downstairs. Saying a quick goodbye to your parents before exiting your house and trying not to skip on over to Miguel's house.

It was 5:45 but you figured you'd get there early just cause, definitely not to possibly spend a little more time with him.

Definitely not.

You walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Instantly the door flew open and Gabi opened the door wide so you could come in.

You ruffle her hair as she grins up at you, "cómo estás Gabi?" (How are you?)

"Bien! Apenas comí pozole!" She says as you walk in and she happily closes the door behind you. (Good! I just ate pozole!)

You gasp and were about to respond when Miguel came down. "The pot is still warm si te quieres servir un plato." He says giving you a quick hug and kiss on your cheek. (if you want a plate)

"Might just have to." You reply giving him a smile once he pulled away.

He was wearing a white lab coat, maybe a white button up and you didn't want to look down to see the rest.

His hair was slicked back again but the best part was that he was wearing thick black glasses. It made him look 100x more attractive but you remained calm.

No way to act like a barbarian right now.

Maybe later.

"Okay have her in bed by seven because she's got school tomorrow and no sweets besides pan dulce with a glass of milk." He says and you chuckle as Gabi storms up to him with a pout on her face.

But he didn't budge.

"Tv and fridge are all yours. Make yourself at home and I'll be back by midnight." He tells you then looks down at Gabi.

"Pórtate bien." He says, leaning down and giving her a kiss on her forehead and a hug. (Behave)

"Ya se papi, ya se." She says and playfully rolls her eyes. (I know dad, I know)

He gives her a warning look before blowing her a kiss as he walks to the front door. He gives her one last look and she just waves him goodbye. He chuckles and opens the door then shuts it behind him.

"Can we watch Bluey?" She looks up at you with pleading little eyes and you nod as she sprints to the living room without another word.

So you end up watching Bluey with Gabi for a good nine episodes before you were slowly losing yourself into this little kids show. The little accents and cute storylines just got to your heartstrings.

And with fifteen minutes left to spare, you wait until the episode Gabi was watching was over before hitting the back button leading you back to the disney+ home screen.

Gabi whined and you shook your head, "no more, you've gotta get ready for bed!"

She groans but nonetheless heads upstairs with you trailing behind her. She gets dressed into her pjs then heads straight to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She's literally an angel.

No way Miguel would have a hard time finding a sitter for her. She's every babysitter's dream. Besides the occasional sarcasm she got from her dad.

But nonetheless still an angel.

Finally she's in bed and you're tucking her in, once again passing her the stuffed spider, who you learned she named Gabri, after her favorite uncle.

You then shut off the lights and walk out of her room, closing the door gently.

You walk back downstairs turning off the lights before heading to the living room. You plop down on the couch and get comfortable, this time putting on a blanket that was on the armrest because it was getting cold.

You play a random movie, snuggling the blanket to your face to warm yourself up when you realize it smells like Miguel.

Maybe he was sitting there earlier?

You breathed in and breathed out, feeling so relaxed. Your eyes start fluttering and it's the second time you pass out at Miguel's place. 

You get woken up by screams coming from the tv, probably wasn't the best to play a scary movie but oh well.

You stretched and let out a yawn before switching positions and laying down so your legs were stretched out over the whole couch. You laid your head on the arm rest and wiped your eyes before taking your phone and airpods from your pocket.

You put them both in your ears before just scrolling through your phone. You move the blanket so it was mostly by your chest and stomach, exposing your legs because you weren't cold but still wanted it on you.

Just then you inhale his scent again and he must've been wearing something expensive because it smelled so good.

You then got the absolute best idea imaginable. And with Miguel being away for another two hours along with Gabi sleeping and probably snoring heavily in her room, you would be good.

So you put some music on, a mix of The Weeknd and Lana Del Rey to get you in the perfect mood. But as you closed your eyes your imagination immediately ran wild and there was no stopping you.

You spread your legs and slowly ran a hand over your body, playing with your tits then softly pinching your hardened nipples. Then trailing it up and down your stomach before it lands on the waistband of your sweats.

You slipped your hand in and began by just tracing along your inner thigh, then went deeper. You led two fingers down to rub your clit, only a couple circles before going down and rubbing your slit over your panties.

Your arousal was already building up, and this blanket was helping a ton. You just imagined Miguel on top of you, not caring if he crushed you, just craving him above you. The way he'd be looking down at your eyes while he toyed with you. Had his way with you.

You needed him so desperately, his touch, his mouth, his fingers. Absolutely everything and anything he'd give you.

Your fingers made their way back up to your clit and you started rubbing faster circles against it while bucking your hips up, imagining it's Miguel's fingers.

A moan slipped past your lips and you tried your best to keep quiet as your fingers worked fairly against your bundle of nerves.

"Miguel-" you whispered before letting out a shaky breath as you held onto the blanket tightly with your left arm.

Just the thought of this big, smoking hot dilf climbing on top of you was almost enough to make you explode.

Fortunately your thoughts went broader than that.

Not only is he tall, and big but his cock would most definitely be the best thing you'd ever lay your eyes on. He'd be really thick and you'd probably struggle keeping him inside you.

He'd stretch you out to absolute perfection and you'd tighten around him so good he's be moaning out your name from how good your pussy feels.

You felt your slick seep through your panties and it only made you more relentless. You slipped your hand under your panties, and brought your two fingers to tease your hole.

You'd need the practice.

You dipped your fingers into your folds, just letting your fingers get soaked before finally slipping them both in making you whine.

You bite your lip to shut yourself up before slipping them in harshly, imagine that's how Miguel would fuck you. You feel yourself clench against your fingers as you start to fuck yourself immediately fast, needing him so fucking badly.

His cock would fill you up so good and you wouldn't mind if he came inside. You wouldn't want him to waste any of it.

You cover your mouth with the blanket let yourself moan into it, as you breathe him in with every inhale. You let out mumbled moans of just his name, as you start to fuck yourself harder, your immersion working better than ever tonight.

And it might've manifested into itself when you felt a gently tap on your shoulder which made you open your eyes, and freeze in fear.

It was Miguel.

"W-w-what are you d-doing back so e-early?!?" You ask as you felt your heartbeat increase rapidly.

But you couldn't seem to slip your fingers out. Unable to move and staring blankly ahead and not to your right as Miguel's body loomed over you.

"Finished what we needed to do faster than expected." He says and you could feel his gaze on you. It was hard to miss.

And you were growing more and more nervous by the second. "And this is what you're doing huh?" He whispers and it doesn't help your nerves at all but does make you clench against your fingers.

"I-I- I'm sorry-" you apologize feeling your body flush with embarrassment but get interrupted.

"A good hour before I was meant to come home too. Que pensaste?" He snarls and you hold your breath. (what were you thinking?)

Shit.

"Aww and gripping this poor blanket for dear life." He says in that teasing tone but you don't have it in you to look at him.

"No me lo esperaba de ti." He whispers and you take a deep breath. (I wasn't expecting this from you)

"P-perdón-" (S-sorry)

"Shh stay quiet..." he whispers and see him going down to his knees out of your peripheral.

"Let me appreciate you in some other way for what you've done for me tonight." He murmurs softly in your ear.

He then brings a hand down between your legs, before placing his hand on top of yours, fingers still buried inside you. Your lip was quivering and you couldn't believe this was happening.

And you're not dreaming.

He then pulls it away only to slip it under your sweats then panties before sliding his fingers between your folds. You whimpered and bucked your hips up, always a needy mess.

"What did I stay? Stay quiet." He coos in your ear, bringing his other hand up to your throat, lightly squeezing.

You finally turn your head to look at him only to smile at him before he leans in to kiss you. You kissed back immediately and he lets go of your throat and instead cups your jaw as you moan into his mouth. He pulls away making you pout, "No hagas que me repita nena." He whispers and you nod. (Don't make me repeat myself baby girl)

"Take your fingers out for me." He whispers and you nod, immediately listening.

You slip your fingers out and take them out between your legs. "Good girl." He murmurs and move his fingers down, teasing your hole with the tip of his finger.

"Miguel- fuck-" you moan then cover your mouth with the blanket again.

"Need more?" He coos and you whimper, nodding.

"Tell me." He whispers and you move your hand away.

"Please- I need you so fucking badly- por favor, te necesito- mmm te necesito tanto Miguel." You plead and he slides his fingers inside you. (Please I need you, I need you so much)

"Feel good huh baby?" He asks and you nod, unable to speak as his fingers start pumping into you fast.

You clamp a hand over your already covered mouth and try your hardest to keep quiet but his fingers filled you up. Two fingers, were able to feel fulfilling inside you.

"Estas tan hermosa mami." He whispers in your ear and you let out a muffled whimper, your walls clenching against his fingers. (You're so beautiful)

He left gentle kisses along your jaw, and neck while pumping his fingers faster and harder. You rolled your eyes back as you kept quiet, or tried to.

You bucked your hips up and tilted your head to the side as Miguel began sucking on your skin, leaving marks then kissing them after. Your walls clenched against your fingers and you could feel that familiarity in your lower abdomen.

"Te vas a quedar bien calladita para mi verdad?" He whispers making you gasp and nod. (You're gonna stay real quiet for me right?)

He starts fucking into you harder and curls his fingers up, hitting that sweet spot of yours with every thrust as you feel your legs begin to shake. Your eyes began to flutter and you tried to keep your eyes open, you wanted to how he'd react to you cumming.

You then feel his thumb rubbing fast circles against your clit which only makes it harder for you to stay quiet. You bit your lips and held all your moans in as your climax hit and your entire body starts to shake. You covered your mouth and breathed heavily as he fucked you slower, moving his thumb away.

You close your eyes and let out heavy pants as he stops and lets his fingers stay inside. "You did so good baby... how's that instead of money?" He whispered and you just gave him a drunken smile unable to have any thoughts.

"Still gonna leave you with both." He coos and kisses your cheek softly.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, then slips them out your juices dripping down and definitely staining your poor panties even more.

He slips his fingers out of your panties and sweats and then brings them up to your mouth which you instantly put into your mouth. You tasted yourself as your eyes fluttered and your breathing finally had calmed down.

You then let go of his fingers with a plop and he leans in, kissing you again but passionately. Tongue in your mouth, also wanting to have a taste of you. After a solid fifteen seconds he pulls away and murmurs, "Thank you for babysitting again. If you want you can stay the night, te ves muy cansada... pobrecita." (you look so tired, poor girl)

[boiohboii]

The people's sweethearts

Ch II

(Verstappen!reader x tom holland x zendaya)

Soulmate au

YN Verstappen had been through hell, by her own father, for something she didn't even ask for. She grew up learning that she should hate what was given to her, after all it was the reason her father was always angry with her. So what should she do when the one thing she learned to hate is the one thing that brings her love, safe and comfort that not even her older brother can compare.

WARNING: not proof read, Jos Verstappen (worsned like 10 times for this fic) poly relationship, derogatory terms by father, abusive father. If I missed anything else please let me know

Masterlist

ch.I

Faceclaim: kiki hertz

Tom prided himself in never exposing his soulmark, he let a lot of things out that shouldn't be and his soulmark not being one of those is such an achievement. Mostly because from a very young age, when he started acting, his mother would make sure he covered it up with makeup so that no one, not even those behind the scenes would see it.

"So, you're invited to watch cars drive in circles?"

Meeting Zendaya had been a dream, they both felt the need to be closer to each other whenever possible even before they discovered their identical soulmarks. Both of them working and hanging around each other made it so much difficult to conceal their newfound relationship and eventually the whole world knew that both of them were soulmates, and not just that, everyone was now aware that Tom Holland and Zendaya Coleman were fated to have a third lover, a third soul with them to keep them sane from all the chaos their lives bring in the form of fans and crazy paparazzi.

"How can you say that?" Tom looked back at his girlfriend as he poured himself some tea "you literally met Lewis Hamilton not that long ago!"

Tom was painfully aware of the fact that Zendaya isn't that interested in either of the sports he enjoys: formula 1 and golf.

"Oh yeah, at a fashion show," Zendaya recalls as she moves over to hug tom from behind, resting her chin on his head. "He was nice."

"Do you think we'll meet our darling soon?" Zendaya asked, making Tom leave his drink to hold her hand in reassurance.

"I think so," turning around he let go of one of zendaya's hands to let his palm rest on her cheek "I know that I met you when I kept thinking about my soulmate, so I have a feeling that we'll meet darling soon."

The couple had taken to calling their third soulmate Darling, a nickname that they both agreed to reserve for their missing soul.

"Yeah, I feel so too."

Liked by maxverstappen1, F1wags&faves, verstappentruther and 683,519 others

Kellypiquet: a weekend with her was truly missed.

maxverstappen1: ♥️♥️

username: God, yn verstappen is so pretty

username: I wanna be her soulmate so bad

username: LOOK AT HER CHEEKS! I WANNA BITE THEM!

With his work schedule Tom wasn't able to attend much f1 races, but when he could he did, and most of them were the infamous English track, Silverstone.

But here in Monaco, the races were something else, Tom can feel how the people in this country were raised watching these cars from their homes, cheering for their favorite driver and the preparations for the race throughout the entire country are just mind blowing (he promised himself that he would bring Zendaya here for a vacation, this place is amazing).

"Is something wrong?" The voice of Christian Horner stopped Tom dead in his tracks, the team principle of the red bull formula 1 team making him feel like a little child caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

"Oh, um, yeah, yes-" clearing his throat Tom couldn't help still looking around, wanting to see the reason of the all too familiar tugging his heart "just looking around, the race is very different from Silverstone, the atmosphere is just so..."

And there it was, the reason his heart is pulling, the person he hoped he would meet as soon as he felt their presence in this specific garage, his darling; their darling.

"Well, Monaco is the heart of motorsport, especially formula 1, you can't live here without being a fan really."

Christian wasn't an idiot, he had eyes and his observational skills were too good. It wouldn't be the first time he witnessed a celebrity looking at yn verstappen, the girl hooking everyone in with her innocent face and charming smile. It would, however, be the first time he saw someone loose their breath over her and he knew what that meant, he knew that expression; he had went through it when he met his wife, he saw it on Max when he met Kelly and now he is going to see it on yn.

He thought he met an angel when he saw Zendaya, he thought that the feeling he would get when meeting their darling wouldn't be as strong, as intense, but seeing her there, standing next to Adrian Newey with a notebook and a pen in her hands, discussing something that seemed so important, made him unaware of anything else. She was all he could see, hear and feel. She was who they had been missing, and god did she make him want to scream at the top of his lungs.

He felt his chest swell up with emotions as he quickly reached for his phone, calling the one person he knew would calm him down.

"Hey baby, how's the race going?"

"Z, she's here," Tom rushed out as he maneuvered between the never ending sea of people to a quite place- well as quite as it can get in Monaco during a formula 1 race.

"What? Who's here?"

"Darling! She's here!"

"Darling is a she?"

Gathering her thoughts Zendaya left the lounge area of her hotel suite, dismissing the makeup artists and stylists with a smile and wave of her hand before entering the bedroom within the suite.

"Okay, okay, calm down baby," Zendaya spoke as she ran her hand through her hair "how about you go talk to her, yeah?"

"I can't, oh my god, what if she doesn't even feel the same pull- it's a stupid way to describe it but you know that's how I felt when I met you and it's the same but so much worse cause you're not here with me and I can't do this-"

"Honey, calm down, it's okay, let's take it step by step, did you check her wrist?" Being met with silence worried the tall girl, she knew how it might come off to him when she was basically asking him to check actual evidence and not take his feelings too seriously "I know your feelings, I get that, I felt the same with you, but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Yeah, yeah," shuffling was heard before Tom apologies for, what zendaya assumed, pumping into someone "no, yeah, you're right, stay with me on the line, I'm going to try and see. She's wearing a sleeveless dress so that will make it easier."

Even though she didn't want to spoil it for herself, she wanted to get 100% of the awe and the fondness for herself, Zendaya couldn't help but ask "what does she look like?"

"So beautiful, Z" the way Tom spoke, the breathlessness and amazement in his voice made her want to cry, she wanted to be there, she wanted to be with him when they first saw her, that's how they always envisioned it.

"Okay, so I checked, and oh my god it's there, it's the same Z, what am I supposed to do, oh my god"

"Here's what you're going to do, you're going to tell her right now!"

"There are like 100 people around, how am I supposed to do that!"

"I don't know tom, tell her you wanna speak to her or something, make it up!"

"I can't do this, I can't, I am freaking out!"

"Oh my god, you're an actor, pretend it's a scene"

"Will you be able to pretend?"

"Well no, but I'm not the one that can see her, am I!"

"Okay, okay, deep breaths, I am going to tell her with you on the phone, alright?" Tom said as he started moving towards the blonde, his confidence building up with his taller soulmate cheering him on through the phone

"Holy shit" and there goes the little confidence he had

"What? Tom! Answer me! Is she dating someone, I swear to god if she is-"

"No, no, she's not," looking back at his soulmate "at least I don't think she is. God, there's no way I am telling her shit now."

"Why not?"

"Her brother can literally run me over with his small rocketship of a car! I am not doing anything when he is literally two centimetres away from her!"

What Tom failed to realise was how Christian Horner had joined the pair of siblings, telling Max and Yn of his earlier observations, which made all three of them look at the young brit in sync.

"Um, Z, I think we won't have to worry about me telling her."

CH.III

{taglist: @celesteblack08 @minkyungseokie @woozarts @keii134 @celesteblack08 @sainzluvrr @fangirl125reader}

[minhosimthings]

Love Wins All - LHS

Synopsis: In which Heeseung is your true home.

Pairings: bf!Heeseung × fem!reader

Warnings: reader has a panic attack, reader has complicated relationship with her parents, crying, the eldest daughter syndrome, swearing, HEE COMFORT LETS GAURRRR, fluff, mention of food, me being poetic as always

A/N: whadup y'all I am unfortunately alive so I'm BACK with this here Heeseung fluff because I love him and he is mine and I am going mental. This is for the Hyuck to my Mark, my beloved @jaeyunluvr

There is a peculiar notion that exists in the human world that no one can love you more than your parents. The people who created you. The people who brought you into this universe, this magnificent galaxy of ours that we call home.

There is a notion that your parents are home.

But you learnt early on in life not to make homes in people. You learnt that people are like travelling rivers , like the flowing water in a forest stream, which brings about both peace and destruction, depending on how one's eyes view it. People would never allow you to make homes in them.

And no matter how hard you tried to make a home out of your mother and father, because you thought they were the only people you were compelled to live in, you failed. If people were asking to calm rivers, your parents were like the harsh nightly waves of an ocean, which brought out destruction as they hit the rocks of the shore over and over again and again, never ceasing to think about how the rocks are doing.

Nevertheless, you managed to find a home of your own. You were surprised you did, what with how much you didn't believe in homes and souls and all that bullshit you read repeatedly in books and saw on the screen.

But Heeseung was different, you thought to yourself. He was like a river you had made yourself a travelling home in, one which would be suited well to his serenely flowing water, which touched and kissed you like the skyline kissed the sea at dawn.

Heeseung was different, you knew that. He was that familiar pair of arms and that familiar, comforting scent that you always imagined you'd go home to as a child. He was the person who you had dreamed of as a teenager, someone who'd hang up your coat for you after a long day, someone who'd make you pancakes in the morning while you slumbered on, someone who'd talk with you deep into the starry nights about anything and everything, someone who'd kiss your forehead everyday before leaving for work, someone who'd love you and show you that your 17 year old perception of the concept of love was not wrong.

So there was no thinking about it when he was the first and only person you wanted to collapse into after a devastating, disastrous, draining day, filled with no calm waves and no love.

•••••••••••••••

The sound of your keys jangling, as they were set down onto the key holder, bought a smile to Heeseung's face, as he was cooking up the last portions of pasta. It was Friday night, which meant that you and him were going to eat Heeseung's notorious pesto pasta, drink some wine and relax into the night's clutches. Saturdays meant going out, so Friday was set aside for peace.

Heeseung's left the noodles simmering in the water as he shut the lid and took off his apron before going to greet you. He was excited for pasta night today, since it had been a long week, filled with work on both your sides. Additionally, you had been staying over at your parents' house for some time, so that added to the lonely hours Heeseung spent in bed hugging your hoodies because he couldn't fall asleep without the scent of you lingering understand his nostrils.

Now, he was hot on his heels, ready to engulf you into the biggest hug ever and kiss you for eternity. Perhaps he was exaggerating, but the taste of your lips on his really was asking to ambrosia to him. If the Gods had their nectar, then he had his.

"Evening, princess." Heeseung chuckled, leaning against the kitchen door as he watched you slowly take your coat off and hang it up on the rack. Lifting your head up, your mouth stretched into a smile on seeing him.

"Seungie..." You cooed, walking over to him and immediately locking yourself into his arms. Heeseung's left arm went to your waist, the other going to support your head. You layed your head gently on his chest, your own arms tied 'round his slender figure.

The comforting scent of him, cherry cologne, basketball tees and pasta sauce, filled your senses as you took a deep breath in, closing your eyes. Perhaps it was from the pure exhaustion you were feeling, but the mere scent of him brought you back to where you've wanted to be for the entire week.

Home.

Heeseung was your home wasn't he?

You felt Heeseung smile as he loosened his tight grip on you, pulling back to look at you. His bambi eyes traced your features one by one, making you feel a bit shy, as if the love of your life wasn't doing what he always did. Heeseung's eyes wavered a little as they landed on your slightly bloodshot ones. Ever the observant man, he was, he chose not to question you about it, knowing you would tell him the reason sooner or later.

"I missed you." You beamed up at him, as a breathy chuckle left his plump, pink (perfectly kissable) lips, "Missed your pasta too." You nose wrinkled at the delicious smell coming from the kitchen, as you glanced towards the door.

"Only my pasta?" Heeseung's bottom lip jutted out to form an adorable pout, which you oh so missed, "Not my kisses?"

"Nope." You giggled, popping your lips, eyes wandering down to his again, "Only your pasta."

Heeseung smiled gently as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. The gentleness of his touch made tears well up in your eyes, you had craved this love for a week now, as if you were Eve, starved of interest, and in her hunger, taking a bite of the apple to satisfy herself.

"Love?"

You snapped out of your stupor at the sound of Heeseung's honeyed voice, gently calling you. You felt the warm touch of his hand against your cheek, he gently cupped it and closely examined you with his eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked, voice still soft as cotton, as if he would have broken you if he spoke any louder, "You don't look too good."

"I'm fine!" You responded, the words coming out a little more enthusiastic that you had intended them to, "I just need a shower." You laughed it off, but Heeseung knew (through what he called his boyfriend tingle) that you most certainly were not ok.

"Love, are you sur-"

"I'm fine, Heeseung." You firmly stated, putting your own hand on top of the one Heeseung had on your cheeks, gently pushing his off, "I'm gonna go take a shower." You smiled again at him before glancing towards the kitchen, "And you've got some pasta to make, mister, so get going."

Heeseung grinned before letting go of your waist, one last kiss was pressed to your forehead before he rushed off into the kitchen to put together a dinner fit for royalty.

•••••••••••••

The feeling of warm water hitting your skin, whilst you stood underneath the shower, brought about the waterworks. This feeling, this familiar feeling of showering in your own bathroom was ridiculous to bring tears to your eyes, but here you were. Soaking in despair, as memories of the week you had spent came rushing to your brain.

You enjoyed staying with your parents, you truly did. After all, they had been the ones to witness each one of your fails and each one of your successes, carefully shaping you, like a potter with his clay, to avoid the mistakes and focus solely on being the golden child. But they had failed to notice that even the golden child burns out sometimes, even the Icarus child loses her wings. That, combined with the never ending screams and shouts that envelope your childhood home, you weren't even sure sometimes whether your parents actually loved you or not.

Love, as you had believed it from ages six to ten, was the feeling of receiving ice cream, the feeling of someone running a brush through your hair, the feeling of rushing home from school and excitedly doing your homework, so that the teacher would give you a star the other day.

Love, from ages eleven to sixteen, was something that was fictional, something that was described so sweetly in the books that you thought 'of course it isn't real'. It was something to be bought and sold, something that couldn't actually exist between people, you blanked out at the fact that when you visited your friend's home, you found her parents talking merrily to each other, as if they actually knew one another.

Love to you, now, was a complex conundrum of ideas. It was full of paradoxes and oxymorons that you didn't want to spend hours decoding and deciphering.

For now, love had been the same cherry cologne, the same honey coated voice, and the same pair of doe eyes, staring lovingly into yours after a long day, whilst you lay with tangled limbs and slightly fuller hearts.

Stepping out the shower, with a warm towel wrapped around yourself, you stared at yourself in the vanity mirror, tracing your hands over your face, whilst your eyes did the same with themselves. Heeseung would definitely notice how bloodshot your eyes were, and you didn't want to put more of a burden on him than you thought you had already done.

Burden. That word again.

Always showing up when you least wanted it to. Of course you were a burden to your parents, why on earth would they even want you, now that you had a life of your own? Apart from the fact that you were the sole witness to the years of domestic bitterness, they had no idea who you truly were. And of course, you were a burden to the world, you had been taught that since the ripe age of eight. Who'd ever want a burden?

You quickly rubbed some of your face cream onto your skin, hoping it would make the tear marks disappear. As for the bloody eyes, well, there was always the soap in the eyes' excuse.

Your hands roughly blended the cream into your skin, you knew it was unhealthy, but at that point, all you wanted was a plate of pasta in front of you and a tall, pink haired man in your arms.

••••••••••••••••

Heeseung stood in the kitchen, frozen like a deer in headlights, staring down at your phone. An unread message proudly showed itself against your bright Studio Ghibli wallpaper. Messages from your younger brother. He was about six years younger than you, and he still stayed at his parents, being a year away from college. That was what Heeseung knew, based off of what you'd told him. Messages from your brother were peculiar, because for one, he was busy with his work, and two, apart from sending each other dozens of reels on Instagram everyday, you and your brother never really talked much. It was that kind of sibling-love, Heeseung thought, the kind which stayed on, even after not conversing with actual words.

So these many messages from your brother was weird, especially considering the fact that the first one started with "Are you doing alright?"

Out of curiosity, Heeseung had checked the texts, and his mouth fell open at what was before his eyes. His mind couldn't comprehend what your brother had been taking about.

Dozens upon dozens of texts, all taking about something with the keywords, 'argument', 'parents' and some or the other thing to do with 'I miss you'. Heeseung's brain seemed to do some kind of a backflip, as he finally realised why your eyes were so bloodshot when you had arrived.

"Hee? Baby?" Heeseung snapped out of his stupor at the sound of your voice behind him. He was quick to put your phone down and pretend like he was checking on the pasta.

"Need anything baby?" He asked, eyes visibly softening as he looked at you. You smiled gently at him.

"Have you seen my phone?" You ask, peering around for it.

"Yeah uhm..." Heeseung hesitated for a moment before picking up the phone on the counter behind him, "Here you go."

Your fingers gently brushed against his as you took the phone from him, offering him a smile as you did. Heeseung turned back to his pasta, while your eyes gravitated to the multiple texts that lay scattered on the screen. Quietly sighing, you sat down on the chair, and resting your arms on the table, scrolled through your brother's texts.

You felt your jawline tighten more by the second as you read each and every sentence, the drastic moments of the horrible week you had suffered flashing in front of your eyes. The air around you seemed to still as you read your brother's last text. Perhaps you had read it wrong, you thought, but no manges how much you tried to convince yourself that your tear-filled eyes did not just read 'I miss you, when are you coming again?' wrong, you couldn't.

Your heart tore itself into bits and pieces as you re-read the texts again, torturing yourself by doing so. You had told yourself that you'd never go back to the argument filled house again, back to bad memories and nightmares. But there was that pang of guilty sleeping inside of you, 'They are your parents after all', 'They raised you, shouldn't you be more grateful for it?'.

The air around you stilled as you felt the muscles of your chest constrict, your veins tangled into one another, like dark, flimsy ribbons. You couldn't remember when the last time was that you felt like this. Perhaps it was in high school, when you had lost a quiz, solely because you had one less mark than the winner. Or perhaps it was when you had won the tennis match, on the grounds that the other player had been cheating. Whatever it was, you couldn't recall the last time the world came swirling down on you like a tornado and you felt like your lungs were filled with weeds.

This feeling inside seizes you, holds you tight, and doesn't allow you to take a proper breath. And that's ok, you think. You don't need to breathe, not yet. But the feeling doesn't stop, and your body eventually screams for another breath. The thing is, though, you can't get any air in, so you panic once again. The cycle never ends. It keeps repeating until you're drowning in your sweat and anxiety

"Baby?" You faintly heard Heeseung's voice from afar, "Y/N, love, look at me." His voice was firmer this time, and you felt the soft touch of his fingers on your skin.

His gaze loomed over your blank expression, never before had he seen your eyes so devoid of any emotion. Heeseung takes in the painfully blank expression on your pale face, the way your chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that you couldn't quite seem to control, the way you were angled himself just slightly away from him, and suddenly his mind snaps back into place.

You're having a goddamn panic attack, one that you haven't had in a long time.

When he gets his fingers wrapped around your own, he can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on your hand.

“Baby, come on, breathe.” He said, slowly reaching out to you, “Love, look at me,” He said sternly, turning you around to face him. He immediately searched your eyes to get you to look at him.

As soon as your eyes landed on his— those beautiful pools of comforting chaos and shimmering stars that you wanted all to yourself—the lasso that was tied tightly around your exhausted brain, broke with an audible snap.

A loud, theatrical sob ripped through your chest as the dam at your eyes broke. Tears flowed down your skin rapidly, like raindrops in a thunderstorm. You probably looked pathetic at the moment, which caused you to double over in another trough of tears. You wanted this night to be perfect for Heeseung. So why couldn't you just be perfect?

Heeseung could sense your thoughts running wild in your mind. He tightly gripped you in between his arms as you sobbed. He blinks his own tears away, and bites his lip to stop himself from calling your parents every possible insult that existed in the English lexicon.

Heeseung hated seeing you cry. It was one of the few things that actually made him sad. Seeing how your beautiful eyes would fill up with tears, how your lip would tremble and how your entire body would shake like a life in the wind, much like it was doing now, he despised all of it.

"Shh love, it's alright." He hummed so softly that make you want to cry even more, "It's alright, I'm here. You're safe."

“I-I’m really sorry—…” you choke out between sobs, "—I'm sorry!"

But Heeseung only pulls you closer to him, his grip growing tighter, as if he wanted to squish all the despair out of you, "I'm here for you, princess."

You let your body go limp and rested your head on Heeseung's shoulder. His hand instinctively cradled your head and stroked your hair. You felt calm now, but weren't ready to move and Heeseung didn’t seem to be in any hurry for you to get up. However, he was in a hurry to get you to breathe properly.

“Love, come on now, look at me,” Heeseung said, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes to look at him. “Come on, with me, yeah? Breathe.” He then took a slow, deep breath, and you mirrored his actions.

“And again,” he said, getting you to focus on slowing your breathing down. One of his hands held yours against his chest so that you could feel the pattern of his breaths. After several moments of slowing your breathing and getting you to breathe normally again, you finally sighed and looked up at Heeseung with tired eyes, muttering a small 'thank you' to him.

You stayed wrapped up in his arms for quite some time, stuck in the moment in quiet silence, the only sound being the sound of Heeseung's softly humming. His fingers drawing shapes on your back and his voice gently floating through the air slowed your world down to a still, a rare moment for you that you quiet enjoyed.

"Baby?" Heeseung cooed softly, "Would you like to go up to the bedroom?"

Exhausted from all the crying and unable to open your dry mouth, you mindlessly shook your head, only wanting to stay in his warm arms for longer.

"Then do you want to talk about what happened?" A soft smile settled on his lips, bringing your mind to ease and a little more saliva into your mouth. Sighing heavily, you spoke.

"I—my parents," you started rather lamely, the gravel in your voice was evident, "I can't deal with their taunts and scoldings everytime I go over to their house. That and the fact that they keep fighting all day." You sighed again, "I'm not saying 'don't fight' or anything–I get it they're grown adults, but fuck Hee, I can't deal with the fact that they don't even wait for my brother and I to leave the house before they're going at it on each other like bulls." You felt Heeseung's fingers slightly tighten, "And they keep fucking making me feel like I'm the least perfect person I'm this entire world when they, out of all people, know that I'm trying so hard."

"And I can't rid my brain of the fact that my brother has to suffer all that until he gets to college. And sometimes I feel like I've betrayed him by getting away from that stupid house." Your voice slightly cracked, the tears starting to form at your eyes again, "–and I feel so fucking selfish all the time for that. And then there's the fact that no matter how perfect I try to be for them, they just don't accept it!"

You breathed out a long held breath of air and melted into Heeseung's arms once more, your hand holding onto his shirt tightly, as if he's float away if you let him go. You felt guilty about his wet shirt, stained with all your dumb tears.

"Sorry about the shirt...." You mumbled, hiding your face, "And for everything else, I know I've ruined the night-"

"Oh princess." Heeseung softly cooed, a smile dancing on his lips, "You didn't ruin anything for me." His fingers went to your chin, grabbing your face and tilting it up to look at him. Your eyes met his and you relaxed at the true home you saw in his irises.

"I love you, you know that right?" He asked, to which you nodded. He let his grip on your chin fall down to rest on your waist again.

"Do you know why I love you so much?" He asked again, to which you meekly nodded a 'no'.

"It's because you're human." Heeseung said, making you snap your head up at him with a confused (or in Heeseung's terms, adorable) look.

"I don't love you only for the perfect version of yourself, or for your amazing cooking." You let out a tiny puff of a laugh at that, "I love you for all your flaws, all your fails and all of you. Baby, no one is ever gonna be perfect and if your parents can't understand that, then, pardon me for saying it, but fuck them."

You let out a raw laugh at his words, burying your head in his chest as you giggled, feeling the saliva come back to your mouth as he gave you a tight squeeze.

"You're the most perfect person in the world to me." He cooed gently, "No cap." A lopsided smirk decorated his face after his last words.

"Heeseung!" You laughed raucously at him, "What have Jake and Riki been teaching you?"

"It's the language of love mi amore." He smirked again, his eyes shining like nebulas.

"Can we have that pasta now?" You asked timidly, beaming up at Heeseung, who smiled his warmth back at you, "And watch Howl's Moving Castle?"

"Anything for you, love." Heeseung pressed his lips to yours in a short sweet kiss, one which you'd never get tired of, even as a thousand suns set and a thousand moons rise up from the horizon, you'd never get tired of Heeseung and his gentle love.

"I love you." You broke off from the kiss to take a breath.

"I love you more, princess."

[chimivx]

home;run -> fem!reader x mlb!mingyu, mlb!vernon, mlb!dk

College didn't work out, so you're stuck with the next best thing. Living with your superstar brother, traveling with his championship winning team, haunted by your past and heavily influenced by your present.

wc; {part two} 5.6k warnings; 18+, sexual content, alcohol consumption/abuse, bad influences around her, manipulation, her name gets taken advantage of in public media, if i missed anything please let me know!! notes; hi, i am posting & feeling shy. please enjoy. <3 dusting off my fingers for this one, i am still not feeling 100%, thank you everyone for your kind words & messages. peese n lurv. <3

Weeks ago your brother decided this Mingyu thing was good, but only in theory. Parading around with him, hanging out with him, going to bars with him, hooking up with him… All of it actually happening, not good.

DK would prefer you to have these rendezvous with someone who didn’t try to drink his body weight in liquor each time the first can hit his hand, but alas, you were brought home safe every time, so who was he to complain or pick and choose who you can and can’t hang out with.

After their first few seasons together it was clear the two had different outlooks on life, neither of them really in the wrong with how they chose to go about their time, but they didn’t match. They clashed. Your brother, after spending time educating himself on his fathers history and evidently learning that baseball wasn’t the only thing he played, he took a different approach to dating, to women. He was a proper gentleman, DK was, never using his status to acquire a girlfriend with status or money or a title, he searched for love.

A star studded, best pitcher in baseball shouldn’t have had his heart broken as many times as his had been, he should’ve been the one breaking hearts. The girls wanted his money, and they only liked him because he played baseball. His status, his money, his title. All the things he didn’t necessarily want, but had been blessed with. 

He was a good man, and he was always right, but you’d never admit that to his face. Especially after that night, after a weekend of staying at Mingyu’s. DK had sat you down, he spoke for many minutes, many dragging minutes, a monologue full of ‘Wouldn’t you prefer to do something else?’ and ‘Have your friends from Nasara come out to stay with us sometime, maybe you all can spend time in the city together.’ He never said the words, “Don’t date Mingyu,” but you know he despised the idea.

Deep down you despised it too. 

The hunk of golden muscle with a voice so pretty and persuading, he wanted to be your boyfriend. Mingyu’s asked a few times before, letting it become your decision, always telling you he’d wait for you, and that you were his no matter what, that he was here for you, he wanted to take care of you, he wanted to love you. He’d keep his word, you knew he would. It was Mingyu, he kept his promises, he spoke with utmost intent, he didn’t say shit just to say it, nor was he using it to coerce you into his sheets. That you did on your own.

His curly hair, his sappy brown eyes, you’d drown it in, in him, suffocate yourself with Mingyu, all of him until the guilt wallowing in your gut was gone. With each passing day it grew smaller. After each night with Mingyu it was easier to deal with. Like last night, like this entire trip would be.

Arriving in Haos, in the warm air that breezed over your skin like a dream when you stepped out of the airport hand in hand with Mingyu sending cameras flashing away, you finally felt like you could breathe. Away from Iloa, away from the restraints the city put on you, really your brother, this trip felt like freedom. Haos has always been a place you’ve thrived since you were a little girl, traveling back and forth on a jet with your parents and DK, vacationing for months throughout the summer, laying on these beaches until your skin couldn’t take it any longer. The air was different here, it excited you.

It invited you to dance in it, to get lost in it like you did Mingyu.

And that’s just what you did.

Waking up to sunshine peeking through the heavy grey curtains of the hotel room, washing over you where you laid in the king sized bed buried in white sheets and blankets, you didn’t even want to open your eyes. Pressing your hands to your forehead first, rolling onto your back, the ache squeezing your brain threatened your stomach, but you wouldn’t allow it to go any further. Taking a slow, calculated deep breath you lay your arms beside you and stretch, your limbs barely reaching the edges of the mattress. Muscles sore, body tired, you blinked open your eyes and scolded the light with a groan.

Moving beneath the covers, the soft sheets caressing your bare skin, you tugged them off and took your time sitting up. The weight in your head shifted, almost sending you forward. Clamping your hands to your knees, still blinking fervently in the bright sunshine, you find clothes scattered about the floor, your bell bottom jeans inside out and slung over a dresser across the room from you.

You weren’t sure whose room you were in, but the denim jacket, Nike luggage, and custom sneakers let you know where you were. Dragging a hand through your hair, the blow dry still bouncing even though your jaw ached, you took another breath and made your way out of his bed.

These headlines were gonna be good.

You scrolled, and scrolled. Instagram, Twitter, all the accounts that reported on you, that reported on Mingyu, you scrolled, and you read. Wandering out of bed, you scrolled, sitting on the toilet, you scrolled, brushing your teeth, you scrolled. The photos were cute, Mingyu’s arm either around your back or shoulders, unless his hand was wrapped around your neck or squeezing your ass. More often than not your lips were locked, the two of you ‘unable to get enough’ as one drama influencer said on her story.

You’ve been here one night and have already achieved what you came here to do.

There was a certain rush accompanied by seeing your name in posts, in headlines, coming out of peoples mouths. Everyone had their thing, everyone in your life, they had their thing. This was yours, and people were catching on. After each blow up of news, of rumors, of new photos, your follower count grew.

But where there were fun people talking about you, doing their makeup in their ‘Get Ready With Me and Chit Chat About Moon Isla…’ videos and TikToks, there were the assholes, mostly men, who spewed their worthless thoughts. That’s what DK would say. Mingyu had started saying it too, that those kinds of people had nothing better to do with their lives.

It didn’t mean their words didn’t hurt.

“I mean, she’s sloppy, she’s drinking all the time, and he’s there to carry her around,” a man with a microphone in his face and big headphones on around his head spoke from your phone. Dressed now, having read an article that informed you that you bought the entire bar shots of tequila, you attempted to liven up your face in the mirror that stretched across the bathroom wall. “His team is in Haos to train. To practice. To begin their season to take back their trophy, and this bitch is with them, dragging Kim all along Festa Street.” Slicking clear gloss over your lips, you narrowed your eyes and glared at the man on the screen.

Fair skinned, bald, with a bush on his face and all around his jaw. He had that nagging sort of voice, one that tugged on your eardrums and stabbed them thousands and thousands of times with tiny needles filling you with rage.

“Photos came out right away when the team got there, you know,” the man said, and his partner, another bald man with a Lions hat on, hummed in agreement. “Not a smile on his face. Sunglasses on, gear on his back, his hat tugged over his forehead. Now what do you think that means?”

“He’s hungover,” the partner said. The man threw his hands out to the side and cackled.

“Thank you, he’s hungover, and he has to play today.” You scoffed and snatched your phone off the counter. “They’re lucky the new first-”

“Shut up,” you groaned, swiping away to another video. A girl with long, waist length braids in her hair, each one entwined with a fun color was smiling to the camera.

“Guys,” she finally whispered after a second of staring. A giggle corrupted her, sending her face down into her pillows. The camera shook, then she picked her head back up and widened her eyes for a few seconds. “How do I become her?” She slapped a hand over her mouth, then giggled maniacally again. “How do I- Wait, hang on.” 

The camera cut and a picture showed up behind her. Your cheeks warmed. Mingyu had you pressed to a pillar in one of the bars you were in, the name unknown to you. His hands were in the back pockets of your jeans and his forehead was pressed to yours. The way he smiled down at you, god. The picture was a little blurry, a little grainy, but damn. He wasn’t looking at you like you were his dinner. Hearts engulfed his irises.

“Guys?!” The girl shrieked and you jumped, forgetting she was here. “Kim Mingyu, save me! Look at this, do you see this, are we all okay after this…” She rambled more nonsense, and you’re certain the thousands of comments were agreeing with her. On every video of girls like this the comments were full of more girls saying the same exact thing.

You dared, and you clicked.

‘how does she not die when he looks like that’

‘LORD WHEN IS IT MY TURRRRRRN’

‘Shes so lucky waht the actual fuck guys its not fair.’

‘how are they NOT DATING’

How are they not dating? How are you not dating Mingyu? How could you look at a photo like this one, all of it screaming that he loved you, how could you see this, witness this, live this, and not date him? Not want to date him?

Locking your phone, tossing it to the counter, you returned to your makeup and put on fresh mascara, not that anyone was going to see it.

Venturing out into the room, side stepping articles of clothing, you pulled on one of Mingyu's grey Lions tee’s and wiggled back into the jeans you wore last night. Your luggage was elsewhere. DK would tell you where it ended up, he’d tell you where you were staying. You haven’t seen him since you left the airport, you were not looking forward to the lecture you’d get when you met him at the field.

Sliding thick black sunglasses onto your nose, making sure your hair framed your face, you spritzed some of Mingyu’s cologne onto your neck, dropped your things into your little purse, slid into your shoes, and left his room behind.

The team was gone, they’d been out on the field for two hours already. Nearing eleven o’clock you weren’t sure who else would be left behind here at the hotel, hopefully someone you’d catch a ride with, but to your demise as you wandered the halls and rode the elevator down to the lobby, your least favorite people were here.

The WAGs.

A piercing cry echoed through the air and the glass ceiling of the lobby.

The WAGs and their children.

To the right of the main lobby, the carpeted area where large leather couches and a fireplace lived, fabulous heads of hair sat around or stood with their babies in their arms. Tight jeans, fun Lions themed jackets, the whole thing screamed WAGs and it made you want to gag. 

Then you remembered what shirt you put on and kept your thoughts to yourself.

Already regretting approaching them, you took yourself toward the couches and attempted to smile at them. In an instant their chatter quieted, their attention turned to you, and they broke out in cheesy greetings. There were only a few faces you recognized.

Seungcheols wife, Talia, who was very pregnant, had their son Tao on her hip where she stood in front of the couches. Luscious blonde hair flowing toward her waist, her full face of makeup smiled back at you. She was one of the few you actually trusted. Gesturing toward her knee high wedged boots, you shot her a thumbs up. From what you know she was weeks from popping out kid number two, so how she was walking around in those boots, props to her.

On the couch directly in front of you rocking her crying baby sat Daya, a brunette with macchiato colored skin married to the Lions second basemen, Soonyoung, or Hoshi, as the city of Iloa called him. They haven’t been married long, but their baby girl, Tora, was six months old. Hoshi was one of the reasons the team started to crumble last season. Between Daya and his new daughter, the family fought the narrative the entire off season. 

Daya sat beside Halle, a woman with curly black hair hanging at her shoulders and the smoothest dark chocolate complexion. She bounced a baby in her arms, her and her husband, Minghao, their eight month old, Sunday. Another daughter born into the Lions family, one toward the beginning of the season, the family just missing the reason for crumble rumors.

The two were best friends, Daya and Halle, just as were Hoshi and Minghao. With their chins turned up at you and their seemingly judging eyes studying what you wore and how you wore it, they smiled and shared a look.

“Isla you’re so fun,” Talia said with a shake of her head. 

Daya laughed under her breath. “She’ll be one of us soon,” she grumbled, and Halle laughed with her.

“Leave the girl be,” Jihyo spoke up as she passed by the couches, wandering behind her and Junhui’s four year old son, Jisoo. Jun belonged to the Lions long before DK had ever been traded, he was a veteran in Iloa. He and his wife, a couple of high school sweethearts, welcomed you back time and time again, treating you no differently, as if no time had ever passed. Just seeing her face was relief enough.

“Hey,” you half whispered, reaching out for her. She took your hand and squeezed it, the smile lines on her cheeks accenting her stunning smile. Talia watched your hands meet, then watched the interaction, adjusting her baby on her hip. “It’s so nice to see you.”

Jihyo tossed her dark brown hair over the shoulder of her leather jacket. “It’s so much nicer seeing you. Don’t let these girls be mean to you,” she shot Daye and Halle a glare and the two turned toward one another, “She’s a baby, she’s not having any anytime soon.” Smiling back at you, she squeezed your hand once more before returning to her motherly duties. “You came down just in time, they’re picking us up any minute now.”

“How are things with Mingyu?” Daya asked, giving you another once over. “You guys conjure quite the crowd.” You didn’t like the way her eyes felt.

Shrugging, you pursed your lips and said, “Things are great. Why?”

She and Halle spoke to one another again with their eyes, then Minghao’s wife looked up at you. “Why aren’t things official, Isla?” 

Because if things become official then you end up on the couch here with these women and their babies, maybe even with a few of your own. You become a WAG, your entire identity succumbed down into just being someone's wife, someone's mother. You’d be an extension of him, of Mingyu, it’s what he wanted you to be even if he’s never explicitly said it.

But, he has.

You’re his. You’re his whether the label is there or not.

The label.

More of their questions bounced back and forth between them. ‘Has he not asked?’ ‘You have to do something, Isla, you can’t just be his pet.’ ‘I mean, what does it look like, you traveling with him to do what, party and sleep together?’ ‘We’ve seen the photos, everyone has, you guys have something-’

“It is official,” you said with a sureness that shut them up.

The words were set in stone before you had a chance to take them back. The chatter of the wives and girlfriends in the lobby filled the air and did nothing to ease the anxiety around the next news story you just created for yourself. For Mingyu. For your brother.

Exactly what he didn’t want.

Taking a deep breath, you thought to yourself, oh well.

You’d be a different type of WAG, you’d change what it meant. You would not end up here wedged between Daya and Halle, two women unable to calm their fussy babies.

Halle smirked, shaking her curls a bit. “What do you mean it is?”

Narrowing your eyes that she couldn’t see at her, you tilted your head. “He’s my boyfriend. I’m his girlfriend. How much more official can it get? You want proof? Wanna see the pictures he took of us while he was in me last night?”

Daya threw her head backward with a holler of a laugh. Halle’s own jaw fell open, a scoff falling from it. Talia, eyes analyzing still, she started to smile. 

“No, you keep those to yourself,” Halle said.

Daya chimed in, “If you have any of just Mingyu let us know, though.”

Your heart would’ve shot out your chest if you weren’t so hungover. “I would,” you sighed, then started toward the doors of the hotel, “But, he’s mine!”

First one to get to the cars, recognizing your brother's driver, you beelined for the SUV and demanded he pull away and get you to the stadium before any other women could try to get into the car with you. Barely five minutes away from the hotel and twenty from the stadium, your phone buzzed from your purse, and then it buzzed again, and again. Pulling it out you sighed at the notifications polluting your screen, but weren’t surprised in the slightest.

Someone got their check.

‘BREAKING NEWS: The Lions Princess confirms her relationship with…’

It was too long to read across the screen.

‘Moon Isla and Kim Mingyu CONFIRMED!’

‘IT’S OFFICIAL!’

No matter who it was, no matter who sold the story or leaked it, you didn’t have time to feel bad for them, nor yourself. You were well off and doing better for yourself without the need to leak info to the press for a paycheck. You have a DK, and now you have a boyfriend, who doesn’t know he’s your boyfriend yet, but is about to find out he is your boyfriend and probably already did. 

Now you had to tell him in person.

And you had to swear to yourself that you were not going to become one of the WAGs.

As easy as it would be to just hand your whole life over to somebody, to follow them around, to have them take care of you for as long as they saw fit… It wasn’t you.

And it wasn’t going to be you.

The stadium in Haos couldn’t compare to the one in Iloa. Smaller, less sparkly and flashy, positioned directly in the sun, this stadium was lucky the Lions continued to come here to train for a month and a half. The tickets they sold within February and March were probably enough to fund the rest of the year for this company. 

To the Lions it was home away from home. A field to play on, a place to stay. Players like your brother saw it that way, he and a few others like Junhui, they had an appreciation for it. As long as they were throwing a baseball, running the bases, rolling in the grass, they were happy. You had few memories of this place, one of them being finally kissing Mingyu for the first time when you were eighteen and in Haos with your family for a weekend to watch the Lions play a series here. It was something short and sweet but all the more delicious. 

It was sneaky, in a hallway away from celebrations and cameras. The two of you had spent nearly the entire weekend together, talking, re-getting to know one another like most of the time like this was spent. He only kissed you after a dinner with the team, after a few drinks downed by the both of you, his liquid courage hands dancing along your neck gently before they took your cheeks and pulled you into him.

You started at Nasara that fall, though you longed to go back to that weekend every damn day of that grueling first semester. With little to no contact between you and Mingyu, it was easy to slip away from him, and you did so without even realizing it. There came a point in time where he wasn’t even a second thought, a side thought, a thought way in the back of your brain, he was just… gone.

Coming here, spending time at the stadium with the team you hoped that feeling would come back. That first feeling. The way nerves below your skin buzzed as he touched you, as he smiled at you and tipped his chin closer, whispering to you how he hopes no one turns the corner. His soft lips, his strong hands, his chiseled body you simply melted into… Everything about it screamed perfect.

Strutting over the concrete, a coffee acquired in your hand, sun blazing on your back, coaches, security, and other WAGs standing around eyeing you or trying to say hello, you ignored them and kept your head on straight, knowing he was at the end of this pathway. The stands of seats towered over your head, casting shadows onto the pavement, leading you toward the fence you so easily walked around with no one to stop you. Your feet quieted as the grass began, shade covering the green so lush you almost felt bad you were flattening it beneath your shoes.

The boys weren’t actively playing at the moment, the most activity happening that you could see was that of your brother and the Lions catcher Jihoon, or Woozi, stretching in the outfield together in their sponsored Under Armour get ups. Everyone else was wandering the dirt, chatting it up along the dugout, or checking out their gear. Few players stood in their positions from what you could see, everyone's backs to you as you approached the third base line.

“Isla!” His voice brought an instant smile to your face. He was heard before he was seen, scanning the different figures around you, you finally found him hurrying toward you, a big, goofy smile on his cheeks. Completely different than how those men on that podcast were describing him. 

A little bit sweaty, Mingyu wore a cut off Lions tank and matching black shorts, swapping his custom sneakers for a pair of old cleats that supposedly brought him luck while they trained. It wasn’t Spring Training if he didn’t have them on, no one would catch him jinxing the season before it even started. Some of his curls clung to his forehead, his skin aglow beneath the beating Haos sun.

“Change your mind, or something?” The way he scrunched his nose made you giggle. “Heard we’re dating now?” He made it in front of you finally, resting his hands on his hips as he caught his breath.

Pressing your lips together in a silly smile, you shrugged your shoulders and rocked on your feet. “Maybe we are.” He couldn’t tame his happiness, you were certain his cheeks would break. “Sucks I couldn’t have told you first, who’d you hear it from?”

“Hoshi.” He cocked his head backward toward the dugout. Peeking around his large frame you found the two best friends side by side leaning over the fence with their chins resting on their arms looking straight toward you and Mingyu. Hoshi, hair bleached into oblivion, and Minghao, shaggy black hair hanging down his neck. Both boys wore backwards baseball caps. “After he told me I checked to see if you said anything to me, but you didn’t.”

A pout graced your lips. “I wanted to come here and tell you, I’m sorry.”

He moved quickly, reaching out to take you by your shoulders. “No, please, don’t apologize, holy shit, Isla. If anything I’m sorry, it sucks that we can’t say anything without someone taking it and plastering it to the internet.” His thumbs drew circles over the fabric of his own t-shirt. “This mine?” He snickered.

“Yeah,” you sang, “I was in your room, Gyu. My suitcases are MIA.”

“They’re in your room,” he said as if he knew where it was.

You scoffed. “And you didn’t think to tell me where that was so I could-”

“On the other side of the hotel in one of the towers across the property by your brother.” It was all he had to say to have you both deadpanning in seconds. “Like, a mile apart.”

Laughing within a breath you leaned into him and slid an arm around his back. “Oh, agony,” you drug out, tipping your chin backward. “A mile, how ever are we going to do it?” It was too easy to make him laugh.

“DK did it on purpose,” he said quietly, bobbing his head, taking his arms around your back. “He thinks we don’t know what he does and why he does it but, it’s so obvious.” Sipping your coffee, you looked up at him and waited for more. “Does he know you were gonna do this? Today?”

Toying with the hem of his shirt you took a breath. “No, but I can tell you he definitely already knows, news travels fast around here.” The two of you spare your brother a glance, one he was returning. You’ve never seen DK mad, but you do know when his eyes have fallen upon something he doesn’t like.

“You’ll talk him down,” Mingyu nodded, gazing back down at you. “You always do, you have the magic.” 

Blinking, you turned your chin back up to him. “You could talk to him too, yanno.”

He made a face, baring his teeth, cringing. “Ah, you know how I feel about that.”

“It could potentially turn this whole thing around if you do, Gyu,” you muttered, defeat beginning to pool within you. “You want me, you gotta talk to him about it.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he reached for your coffee cup. “I have you. Watcha got in here?” He took a swing before you could answer him, his reaction making you laugh amongst the karma.

“Black coffee,” you droned, taking the white cup back. “And sugar, because someone made me do tequila shots all night.”

Snickering, he dropped down to press a kiss to your lips, one long and slow, as if he was putting the period on the It’s Official statement. Pulling back just slightly, Mingyu mumbled, “Why don’t you substitute that sugar for vodka so we can keep going tonight?”

“Aye, Kim!” A coach called out for him, the team heading back out onto the field.

Whirling around, pulling you into his side, Mingyu waves off the batting coach and ushers you into the dugout making sure you were along the fence with a good spot to watch him hit. Along the way he whispered nonsense to you, telling you what bars you should explore tonight, where you needed to go, what food you should try, but more importantly what drinks you could get and where.

“You’re gonna kill me, Gyu,” you whispered to him after he kissed you one last time. Laughing aloud, head thrown back with vigor, he took to home plate and his persona shifted. Gone was Gyu, out came Kim Mingyu, the Lions right fielder.

Sipping from your coffee, allowing it to ease the ache in your forehead and the unease in your gut, you stood up and wandered the empty dugout. Names were written on everything, the shirts, the bats, the gloves, the mits, it was adorable, it felt like when you’d watch your brother in little league and your father etched his name into everything he owned. Dragging your feet along the ground, dirt and pebbles scraping against the concrete beneath your shoes, you took a deep breath in through your nose and let the fresh air relax you.

Maybe this was a good thing.

The familiar sound of a baseball smacking into the glove of the catcher brought you more comfort than you ever could’ve imagined. Your brother was on the mound, Woozi behind the plate, Mingyu in the batter's box. The whooshing of the bat through the air as your boyfriend acquired another strike had the batting coach calling out a few things to him. With a small smile on your lips you wandered toward the stairs to the dugout along the first base line, stepping up them to lean against the post giving you the clearest view of the field.

Hangover aside, the day was beautiful. The weather was perfect, the boys were talking and laughing with one another, there was the crack of the ball hitting the bat filling you with excitement as someone shouted in the outfield. The ball Mingyu hit was foul, traveling just over right field, but it wasn’t hit long enough for their bench player whose name you hadn’t learned yet to catch it in right field. Your neck stretched, everyones did. Mingyu ran to first base, but Seungcheol would catch it before he made it down the line.

Except Seungcheol was behind home plate with the batting coach, arms folded over his broad chest, his knee wrapped in a brace.

Whipping your head back and forth, from Seungcheol eyeing the ball, to the team, then you, he shouted a name that made your blood run cold.

“Hansol!”

Every bone in your body went stiff, every muscle froze. Neck nearly breaking, you plastered your eyes onto the boy standing behind first base and your coffee cup almost slipped from your trembling fingers.

You could’ve been sick. You wanted to be sick.

Months. It’d been months.

Months of distraction, months of trying to make him go away, months of squeezing him and pushing him down into a feeling you’d only allow yourself to feel between the hours of one and three in the morning if you were any sort of sober. Even drunk, he was there, a ghost haunting your memory of what could’ve been, what you had and what you left behind. He stood here now, five foot ten, a little scrawny, a little pale. Those brown waves, they were just how you left them, fluffy, soft, inviting. His eyes, chocolate and sweet, were on you, he was looking at you, not through you, not around you, at you.

And it hurt.

Every feeling manifested into a stomach ache, a nausea so debilitating that only he would know what to do about it, like he’s done for you so many times before. The amount of times he’s held your hair, that he’s pulled it back for you. So many nights at Nasara, when he was allowed to, he would get you into your bed and make sure you’d fall asleep on your side, telling Ryujin that if either of you needed anything she could call him. He’d try to not let you drink too much, but when he couldn’t keep up with the way you’d bounce around the house he’d appear with a cup full of water and wouldn’t leave you alone until you finished it. 

He’d bring you to Blend, he’d buy you a coffee, he’d offer you breakfast, and if you refused he’d offer his shoulder and he’d let you talk. And not once would he interrupt, he’d only look away to sip his coffee, reminding you to drink some of yours between the stories you had to tell.

You’d follow him along to his practices, one of the only ones to sit in the stands, or behind home plate when he’d bat or train with his coaches gearing him up for this very moment.

When the hell did he get called up?

When the hell did the Lions get him?

Why the fuck is this the first you’re hearing of it, seeing it?

He missed the ball. It fell a few feet behind him. His teammates shouted for him, they tried to get his attention, so many shouts of a name so foreign to you only because you knew it wasn’t his favorite. He was stuck, much like you, with a thousand things to say splayed out between the two of you.

Vernon.

He was here, in Haos, playing on the same team as your brother. 

On the same team as your boyfriend. 

Holy shit, Mingyu was your boyfriend.

Mingyu was your boyfriend, words you chose to say on the same day the boy you had fallen in too far deep with appears on his baseball team.

“Hansol!”

Finally his gaze of disbelief was ripped from you, having you loose a breath you were holding. Murmurs of his voice, nothing more than a hum hit you where you were standing, a sound so incredibly comforting it had tears welling up in your eyes. You’re sure it was pleading, and apologies, and excuses for missing the easiest play for a first baseman.

He hurried toward Seungcheol and the coach, as did the team, and you hightailed it off the field while no one's eyes were on you, hurried for the closest bathroom and hid yourself in a stall, collapsing to the floor with rushed breaths, willing your heart to calm down.

home;run masterlist | talk to me | ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[missmielyhoran]

Denial

face calim- Lily James

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

[Warning- Angst, Cheating, smut but not written, crying, alcohol consumption, more crying, suicidal thoughts, people not knowing meaning of privacy, Hayden being a bitch]

Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan3, Harryfan1 and 663,989 others

Y/Nupdates Y/N out with kids in London today getting ice cream.

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Harryfan1 Milf fr

Harryfan2 Where are the kids?

Y/Nfan1 They're cropped out. Harry and Y/N didn't want their faces to be public yet.

Y/Nfan3 Is it just me, or have you guys also noticed that Harry has not seen with kids for a long time

Harryfan3 Maybe he's busy with new album and stuff

Y/Nfan1 No me too

Y/Nfan2 @/Harryfan3 he was seen with his friends at pub few days ago

Harryfan5 Aww she bought flowers for Harry

*****

They say that when someone dies, their whole life flashes before their eyes. The good, the bad, all moments move in front of their eyes like a movie, that's how you felt when you opened the door of your bedroom.

A movie of your marriage dying.

You were going through your day like normal. Your shooting had ended early, so you decided to pick up the kids from school and take them out for ice cream. They were now standing in the kitchen. You could hear their muffled giggles while you stood upstairs in front of your room like a mannequin watching your husband scramble and quickly put on clothes.

"Fuck- Baby I can explain-" Harry tried to approach you, but you couldn't look at him or react to his words. Your eyes remained trained on the woman lying on the bed, on your bed. Sheets up to her chest, her head perched up on her arm while she looked straight in your eyes without any shame or remorse. Oh no, she had a smirk on her lips.

"Kids are downstairs," You motioned with your thumb downstairs, "I- I'm going to drop them off, and then we will..." You couldn't complete the sentence. You felt like your body was on autopilot as you went downstairs and ushered the kids back to the car, your and Harry's four years old daughter asking why she couldn't see her dad and what could you say?

"He has some important work to do. Why don't you guys have a sleepover at Elliott's tonight?" You asked them, putting all your acting skills out there to hide the waver in your voice. Elliot was your ex-boyfriend and father of your eldest son Emiel.

"Yayyy" Amie clapped her hands, excited to hang out with her best friend. Meanwhile, Emiel stayed silent and looked at his mom from the passenger seat. You knew he knew something was wrong, considering he was older and much more aware of his surroundings than your little girl.

You just sighed and kept driving to Elliott's house. Soon enough, they arrived at the familiar small cottage-esc house. You got out of the car and then unstrapped Amie from the seat belt. As soon as you put her down, Amie ran towards the door and knocked on it, being too short to reach the doorbell. Emiel laughed and picked her up so she could ring the bell.

Soon enough, Elliot was opening the door with the biggest smile on his face. "If it isn't my two favorite people," He exclaimed and pulled both of them in hugs. Behind him, his Fiancé laughed at his antics, and she smiled a bit, too.

"Mom said we're having a sleepover!" Amie screamed near Em's ear, making him groan. It's then Elliot looked up, his blue eyes met her tired ones, and he knew something was wrong considering they were friends for a long time.

"Em, why don't you take her inside with Bran?" He smiled at his son, and Bran took them inside, talking about something.

"Are you okay?" Elliot immediately asked, and you shook your head. Your brain was still too jummbled to speak or to cry or to be angry or even comprehend what had happened.

"Why don't you come inside for a second and drink some water? I fear you might pass out from the way you're looking so pale." He looked at you concerned, and before you could protest, Elliott pulled you inside.

You sat on the dinner table and looked out to the garden, finding Em holding Amie in his arms, her head on his shoulder. The tiredness of school and excitement finally caughting up to her and knocked her out.

You took your phone out and clicked a picture, them being the only hope she could grasp on at the moment.

Elliot didn't ask any questions. He understood that if you wanted to talk, you would. He just stood there as emotional support staring at their kids as you drank the water.

"I might need them to be here for a few days before I sort things out. I hope you don't mind." You asked Elliott, looking up at him sadly. "You hurt me, sucre. Of course I don't mind." He shook his head and pulled you in a hug.

*****

Liked by Y/Nfan1, Annetwist, Harryfan4 and 1,987,456 others

Yourinstagram Mon chéri

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User1 Omg babiess

User2 That's Emiel? He has gotten so big

User3 I mean he's 13 now

User2 the small Gucci bag🥺she's soo like harry

annetwist Oh my sweet babies...miss you so much

Yourinstagram miss you too mom🥺

User4 still can't get over that she calls Anne mom😭

User4 Harry didn't comment?

*****

When you arrived at you-Harry's house, the sun was setting. You was dreading the conversation that was bound to happen. Six years went down the drain in a few hours.

Your whole life felt like a lie.

Harry was sitting on the couch when you walked inside. A major part of you hoped he had some explanation, that it wasn't what it looked like or that it was just a mistake. But when you walked more inside and saw her there still after everything, your heart cracked a bit more.

"Y/N," Harry breathed out, his voice coming out in heaves as if he's out of breath, but you knew him. You knew he was just nervous.

He looked so young when he was sad, his eyes droopy yet shining, the mess of curls and clenched jaw reminded you of the early Harry who stole your heart.

Now, he reminded you of the one that broke it.

"Why is she still here?" was asked first thing first you asked. Harry looked behind him, and Hayden just shrugged and plopped down on the kitchen bar stool eating chips while scrolling through her phone.

"Emotional support for him after you leave" She said with a wink pointed at Harry.

"I just thought it would be better to talk with all of us here," he said, fiddling with his fingers, as if searching for a ring on his ring finger, but there wasn't one. Now that you think of it, you hadn't seen him wear it in so long.

You should have seen the signs.

All you could do was nod. You sat down far away from him on the loveseat, which was ironic cause there was no love in the atmosphere.

"I-" Harry started but couldn't. He closed his mouth again and opened it again, gaping like a goldfish. He looked at you, and you looked at him. Your husband, the person you loved the most after your kids, your first love, your everything.

"How long?" You asked, looking at Harry with dead eyes. It had nothing in them, no spark, nothing just lifeless saphire stones to see.

"Five months," Harry said, looking down at the rug, unable to look into your eyes.

Five months...

They were at your parents' house for Thanksgiving six months ago. The first time, he met Hayden after being with you for almost seven years. He never met your sister, and there was a reason for that.

"Thanksgiving," you mumbled out to herself more than to anyone. He fell out of love with you for so long, and you didn't even know.

"Why, Harry?" You finally asked. You still couldn't cry. No, you still had no expression on your face. You felt like a ghost, pale, feelingless, breathing ghost.

"I don't know," He said, his own lips wobbling.

"I'm going upstairs, babe. Come when you sort this out." Hayden said, walking towards the stairs like she owned the house, "See ya, sis!" She yelled from the top of stairs.

Awkward silence sat between them. The lovers who were laughing, kissing, and playing with their kids just this morning are now sitting in a souless house with a dead relationship.

How can things change so fast?

"Y/N" Harry called you softly. You looked up hopefully, thinking he would say it now, say anything to save whatever was left. You could make a home out of ashes, but for that you did need the ashes.

"I think it's better if you stay here. The kids will not be able to adjust somewhere els-" Harry spoke but stopped when he heard a sniffle.

For the first time since you walked in on them, tears flooded down your face. In just a moment, your eyes were blood red, glistening with tears.

"Where will you live?" You asked with your wobbling voice. A frown took over Harry's face watching you cry, but he was to blame for that.

"I didn't mean for it to happen this way Y/N" he said guiltily.

"Then which way did you want Harry?" You shouted at him, "Having one of our kids walk in on you two, or were you thinking of running away with her? or just wake up one day and throw divorce papers on my face?" You asked, your crying increased, making you choke on it and go into coughing fit.

Harry on instinct went to help you, but you raised your hand, stopping him. "Don't." You shook your head and stood up, calming down your coughing fit.

"I just thought I would talk to you," Harry mummbled his head down, looking at floor.

"You thought you would talk to me. Was this thought came before you stick your dick into my sister or after that?" You asked him clearly angry. You were still crying, your knees felt weak, and your head felt dizzy.

"Harry, we still have time. I- we can still be together just throw her out of house and never see her again. I will not go to my parents' house but please." You fell down to your knees sobbing. You wanted to save the only real thing you ever had, the only person you ever loved, who had been through her thick and thin. You needed him. You needed him for the kids.

Harry was looking down at you sympathetically, his own tears falling down. He felt too much shame to look in your eyes when you looked up at up for answers.

"I don't-" He choked a bit, "I love her Y/N" He whispered.

The final nail was in, the corpse was six feet under, there was no ashes to make home from.

You stilled on the ground, then a loud sob broke from you. You cried with your legs tucked to her chest in a fetal position on the floor. Harry came beside you and brought you to his chest. This time, you didn't move away or push him. You clutched onto his shirt, fully sobbing into it.

You digged your nose into his neck, and the shirt smelled like you. Even after everything, he still smelled like you, but it didn't matter now, did it?

The two lovers cried, holding each other, knowing that once they broke away. Everything else would also be broken.

You didn't know how long it had been. You just knew Harry's shirt was fully wet with your tears, and all you could hear was his heartbeat.

You pulled away from him and looked up in his glistening green eyes and after everything for some reason your eyes held hope.

Maybe it was denial after all they do say it's thr first stage of grief.

But you still knew you had to get out of this house. So, you got up and fixed your clothes to best of your knowledge, tears still falling from your eyes.

You didn't say anything just made your way towards the door concerning Harry. "Y/N were are you going?" He asked following behind you.

"Kids are wt Elliot's" Was all you said as you got into the car and drove off. You didn't know where you were going but you just wanted to go far away from all this.

You weren't a mother who knew her daughter didn't go to sleep until she told her a bedtime story or a wife who just got cheated on by her husband. No, you were just a broken soul who got betrayed by a person who vowed never to hurt her.

You drove in autopilot like you have been for the whole day, how you were alive you didn't know. How many cars and trucks you have doged you didn't know, you didn't even know where you were.

It was a bridge of some kind, you would thinking living in this place for so long would grant you the knowledge of where you are but you didn't know shit. Parking on the side of the road you turned off the car and pulled your windows down. The night cold air filled up the car, making your nose and ears red immediately.

You looked around the place, the small city lights twinkling in the diatance, people returning to their homes. Many who will return to a empty space many to someone waiting for them but you? You lost your home.

Having so much money and fame couldn't give you back your home.

You cried, you cried until you couldn't. You cried until all the tears were drained and all there wad left was a ragining headache and heartache.

You got out of the car and stood near the bridge. Your hair blew in the cold air and somehow you knew you have caught cold. You hugged your coat closer to you searching for any type of warmth.

Putting your hands on the metal bridge you leaned into it more. The rings you were wearing clinked against the metal making you look down to your hands and there it was the pretty diamond he especially got made for you, the one that once held a promise, a promise of faithfulness, love and family and some how in just couple hours you lost all of that or maybe you lost it six months ago just didn't realize it.

You took it off. It didn't held any meaning now did it?

You started crying again. It felt like once the dam broke, it didn't want to stop, but maybe that was for the best. You had kids to be strong for.

Oh god the kids...

What were you going to tell them? Maybe Harry would come back for the kids? He didn't love you but kids? He would come for them, right?

You were soo consumed in you misery you didn't realize your phone was constantly ringing in car or the texts or that from cross the bridge couple of girls were taking your pics.

*****

Harry was getting scared.

When you left the house, he thought you would go to Elliot's house, but you weren't there, and now both of them were constantly blowing up your phone to get a hold of you.

You were in no shape of driving. He should have stopped you, but like most of his decisions, he had nothing to do but regret on them.

He walked back to the couch and plopped down. Hayden was still in the bedroom upstairs. The bedroom that was once yours and his. It felt wrong cause it was wrong, wasn't it? But he loved Hayden, so it has to be right? right?

He looked up from his lap, and his eyes went straight to the flowers sitting on the coffee table. It was a habit of yours to bring something home whenever you come back home early. Mostly, it was flowers or the sushi from the sushi place you both love and went to on your first date.

His heart grew heavy as he picked up the flowers, which might be the last one he ever receives from you. Before he could examine them more or cry over them, a pair of hands were taking them out of his hold.

"C'mon baby, let go to bed. I'm tired" Hayden pouted just like you used to, her same yet different eyes as yours looking back at him, and he couldn't resist. He gave her a somber nod and stood up, making his way upstairs. Once he was out of eyeshot, Hayden threw away the flowers in dustbin and happily made her way to the bedroom.

*****

Liked by Y/Nfan2, Y/Nfan4, Harryfan5 and 482,786 others

Y/Nnews Y/N spotted by some fans near the bridge.

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User1 Why she looks so sad?

User2 I met her..it was my friends who took the picture. I tried to tell them not to but they didn't listen.

User3 What happened?

User2 She looked sad and tired. I mean it's hard being mom but she her usual aura was down like she's usually so chirpy and happy but she looked like she didn't want to be disturbed so we didn'task for a picture.

User3 Yet you invaded her privacy and took her pictures

User4 Is it just me or did anyone else seeing that she's not wearing her wedding ring?

User3 Omg yes I didn't realize

*****

You didn't know when you got here. All you know is Elliot somehow found you and brought you back to his house. He left you in the guest room and asked you to call him if you needed something.

You tossed and turned for hours in bed, or maybe it had been a few minutes, time didn't exist for you anymore. You got up to go to the kitchen and get some water when you saw the wine bottle. The temptation was bad, your fingers were itching, and your mouth went dry.

If there was any time to get wasted, it was this. The evil little voice in your head said and you gave in.

You took the bottle out of the cellar and sat down on the floor with your back against the kitchen counter. You brought the bottle to your lips, your hands shaking so badly that you almost dropped it.

The first drop felt like heaven. Like an old friend, you meet after a long time who you cut off cause you knew they were toxic, but the feeling of sweet reconnection and nostalgia still felt like bliss.

You were so in your head thinking about wine that you didn't see Bran coming to the kitchen or watching you from the doorway. He wanted to stop you but knew it wasn't his place, so he went back to his bedroom where his soon to be husband was sleeping.

"Babe," He shook him lightly, "Babe, wake up" He said a bit loudly, making him whine and grumble. He felt bad for a bit cause Bran knew that things have been hard, the school wasn't doing so well so he had to work extra but right now you needed him and Bran knew Elliot will blame himself if something happened to you.

"What happened?" Elliot asked, "I think you should talk to Y/N. She's is in the kitchen.." Bran paused, "Drinking".

That woke Elliot up, "But she hadn't drunk ever since she got cl-" "I know that's why I said go talk to her before things get worse"

You were halfway done with the bottle when Elliot came back to the kitchen. You were hitting the back of your head against the counter, filling the silent kitchen with a thumping noise.

"Y/N" He called out softly and for a second he wished he didn't. You looked like a mess your already ruined makeup was now in shambles, your eyes blood red and your lips were adoring a drunk smile.

"Put the bottle down Y/N you're hurting yourself" Elliot said, sitting next to you. You rolled your eyes and took a big gulp of the wine again.

"My life is already ruined. What's the worst can happen now?" You said laughing, but there was no humor in it. It was hollow like you felt. A hollow shell.

"You want to tell me what happened?" He asked quietly, trying to take the bottle from you by distracting you.

You burst into tears hearing his question. You wanted to tell him, tell him everything that happened, but your brain was not letting you talk. Like keeping it to yourself will make it go away. It was still in denial that it really happened.

"I don't know how to," you said in between sobs. Elliot pulled you to his side, his hand rubbing up and down your back, trying to soothe your crying.

"Harry-" you said and sobbed harder. "You want me to call him?" He asked, but you just shook your head.

"C'mon sucre tell me what's going on." He urged you to tell him. As time went by, Eilliot became more and more concerned. It wasn't like you to cry so much over a fight. You were the one who mostly solved them. So, it had to be something big for you to be here and crying rather than with Harry.

You stared at him for a few seconds, contemplating if you should tell him, but who else would you tell? He was the only friend you had except your little brother who was miles away in Sydney.

So you told him. You told him how your shooting wrapped up early, how you picked up kids, and went home to surpirse your husband only to get your heart broken in the worst way possible. How your husband of five years and almost seven years of love was now in love with someone else and that someone else was none other than your sister.

"I'm going to break his face!" Elliot seethed and scrambled to get up from beside you, but you took his arm and pulled him down back beside you, having no doubt he actually would.

"It will do nothing but harm to you and to him." You sighed, wiping your tears. You started to hate the feeling of being sober after crying, so you took swing of your wine again.

"I just don't understand how and what went wrong." You said staring at the cupboard's golden handle, "We were so happy this morning. I went to shooting, and he dropped kids to school I-" You choked on the lump in your throat.

"Do you think maybe he's doing this to get back at me for leaving him to go to Venice last minute?" You asked Elliot, "Do you think it's just a elaborate prank, I mean you know how Hayden is, she's bitch I won't be surprised if she came up with the idea of this prank."

Elliot looked at you with sad eyes, his hands rubbing your arms affectionately. "If it's a prank then it's one fucked up prank sucre so no I don't think it's a prank" Elliot said sadly looking at your sleepy eyes.

"It has to be. I mean, we were talking about having another baby after my shooting ended. Why would he want to have another baby if he didn't love me?" You asked him, hoping to get any just any answer to soothe the ache in your heart.

"I think you should ask that to him once you get a bit better. For now lets get you to bed" He said, taking the bottle out of your hand amd you let him. The physical and mental exhaustion of day caught up to you, and pairing that with wine had you sleepy.

Elliot carefully placed you on the bed and then put a glass of water and painkillers on the bedside table, knowing you would have a bad hangover since you drank after a very long time.

Sleep engulfed you soon enough, and you dreamt of the time your life wasn't in distress.

*****

Harry woke up in the morning and smiled when he felt soft hands around his torso. It was the part of the relationship he didn't experience with Hayden, but now he could do it as much as he wanted.

He turned around and pulled her in a lazy kiss, which soon turned heated and led to his boxers flying off from bed and his hands trailing around naked her body earing soft sounds from her.

Both of them fell asleep again. Harry woke up around 10 am to a hungry stomach. For a second, he was about to yell for you cause you always brought him breakfast in bed on weekends. Only to realize his mistake, but before he could feel bad, his eyes fell on similar blonde hair, fanning your his pillow, and he forgot everything.

He took a quick shower and got ready to get some coffee and breakfast. He decided to wake up Hayden to ask what she wanted. "Babe, wake up. I'm going to get breakfast. Do you want anything? " He asked her, getting a grumble in reply.

But then Hayden woke up fully alert. "I want to go with you!" She said excitedly, "I can finally have all for me please" She said pleading and how could he resist her?

She went to ready while Harry sat on couch downstairs going through his phone, but when Hayden took too long, he went to look for her.

He heard hushed voices behind the closed door, "Babe, are you ready?" He called her and opened the door. She stood there with a bright smile, her hair side parted with a white t-shirt and blue jeans much like his outfit.

"C'mon, let's go!" She said and took his hand in hers. Harry smiled and went with her. They sat in the car, and Harry brought her hands to his lips and drove off.

They arrived the hidden cafe they went most of the time cause it was in small area where most people didn't recognize him and there were no chances of him getting caught.

He ordered his usual, and so did Hayden, but as soon as they got out of the cafe with their food, the flash of the camera went off and then another. Harry went into full panic mode cause not only this will go back to you but to the whole world and quickly took Hayden's hand running to his car, dodging questions, and camera flash both.

Liked by Harryfan2, Y/Nfan2, Harryfan4 and 1,002,789 others

StylesNews Harry Styles seen out with mystery woman at secret cafe.

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Y/Nfan2 That's Y/N's sister wtf

Harryfan1 I didn't know she had a sister

Y/Nfan2 they're not that close, Y/N told in an interview.

Harryfan3 He's hanging out with her family aww

Harryfan4 they look a lot closer for my taste🤨

Y/Nfan1 IKR like that hand holding is suspicious

Harryfan4 I hope it's not what I'm thinking it is after seeing Y/N's pictures from yesterday

*****

Meanwhile, you woke up with the worst headache of your life. Thankfully, there were medicines and water beside your bed cause your throat felt dry as a dessert.

You walked out of your room groaning at the amount of light filtering through. "Good morning, sleepyhead." You heard your son say laughing.

"Good morning, mum. We made pancakes!" Your daughter squealed and held up pancakes with both of her hands above her head. You laughed and kissed her cheek.

"It looks delicious, baby and good morning to everyone," you said with a smile, forgetting about your pain for quite some time until your daughter asked you when they would be going home.

"What you got bored of me so fast?!" Bran fake hurt while you stood their staring at her thinking when were you going and where were you going cause you could go anywhere you wanted other than your home.

You were in literal, psychological, and in every sense homeless.

"Let mum have her coffee Amie, you know how she's without it." Elliot joked, and Bran picked Amie up, taking her to the living room to keep her busy, and Em followed them.

You took a mug out of the cupboard to make coffee while Elliot sat there looking at you with pity.

"How did you find me yesterday?" You asked, wanting to change the look in his eyes.

"Oh some girl posted you on twitter" He said biting into his pancake while you made your coffee.

"Someone posted me?" You asked and groaned when he nodded, "My manager is going to kill me"

Great now, top of a cheating husband. You also had to deal with getting your crying pics off the internet and deal with an amgry manager.

You took out your phone out of your jeans, which were getting uncomfortable as time passed.

But nothing matched the uncomfortable and shattering hurt you felt when you saw the trending topic of twitter.

They were already parading out? It had hardly been a day, and he was already over you? Did he not think what will happen when tabloids will find it? which they already had found out making their own stories.

Did he not think what kids will think when they will see it? Em was 14 he knew everything and had a phone of his own. What were you supposed to tell him if he asked you? you didn't even know yourself what was going on.

Your head started pounding more than before, and you could feel the migrain coming in . Even though you knew you had to talk to him, you couldn't today in any shape or form.

Your sadness was slowly subsiding now, and as your headache grew, so did your anger, and you knew it was going to be shit show happening in front of everyone.

*****

Same day in evening-

Liked by Harryfan2, Harryfan5, Y/Nfan2 and 998,765 others

Duexmoi This fan favorite couple, an A list actress, and popstar are getting divorced according to an insider. Who do you think they are?

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Harryfan1 Harry and Y/N?

Y/Nfan2 Rumor has it one of them cheated

Y/Nfan4 Defo Harry remember the pictures

Harryfan2 Omg with her sister? that's fucked

Harryfan3 don't jump to any conclusion guys maybe it's someone else or maybe it's fake you know how these are.

Y/Nfan1 Fuck Harry and fuck Hayden

*****

Welll...tell me if you guys liked it pleaseeee i need to know!! here♡

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Taglist- @lilsiz @kaverichauhan @thechaoticjoy @samwilsonsgirl @lomlhstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @vmpellie @sunshinemoonsposts @jayde515

[okasuka]

Damian wayne x Reader.

tw: abuse, blood. violence, child abuse, alcohol abuse.

Part 1: The Coffee Shop Encounter

The soft hum of chatter filled the air of the cozy little coffee shop on Gotham’s east side. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans lingered in the atmosphere, mingling with faint notes of cinnamon and vanilla. You sat across from Damian Wayne, his sharp green eyes scanning over a book he brought with him. Despite his stoic exterior, there was something about him that made you feel safe—a sense of quiet understanding you rarely experienced.

“You’ve barely touched your drink,” Damian pointed out, his voice calm yet observant as he placed his book down.

You looked at your untouched latte, the heart-shaped foam design slowly dissolving. “Sorry, I was… lost in thought.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitated. How could you even begin to explain the chaos at home? The constant yelling, the suffocating expectations, the fear that seemed to follow you around like a shadow. Damian, though guarded, had an innate ability to notice when something was wrong.

“It’s nothing,” you finally said, forcing a smile.

His sharp gaze lingered on you, seeing right through the façade. But before he could press further, the ringtone of your phone shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

You froze. You didn’t even need to look at the screen to know who it was. Slowly, you picked up the phone and glanced at the caller ID: Dad.

Damian’s eyes flicked to the phone, his jaw tightening. He knew about your father—at least, the basics. You’d mentioned the tension between you two, though you’d never gone into much detail.

“Are you going to answer it?” he asked quietly, his tone unreadable.

“I have to.” You stood up, the weight of the call already sinking into your chest. “I’ll be right back.”

Damian nodded, though his eyes followed you as you stepped outside.

The cold Gotham air bit at your skin as you swiped to accept the call. “Hi, Dad,” you said cautiously, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Where the hell are you?” his voice boomed on the other end, making you flinch.

“I’m just out with a friend—”

“With that boy, aren’t you?” he interrupted, his tone dripping with disdain.

Your stomach churned. “His name is Damian. We’re just studying, I swear.”

“Studying? Don’t lie to me!” he barked. “You’re wasting your time and my money! I told you to come straight home after school. What’s so important about hanging out with some rich brat anyway?”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “Dad, please, I—”

“Don’t you ‘Dad, please’ me! You have five minutes to get your ass home before I come get you myself, you hear me? Five minutes!”

The line went dead before you could respond.

When you stepped back inside, Damian’s eyes immediately locked onto yours. He didn’t need to ask what happened; your expression said it all.

“Do you need me to come with you?” he asked, standing up.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I… I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N.” His voice softened slightly, and for a brief moment, his hardened demeanor cracked. “You don’t have to face him alone.”

You gave him a small, sad smile. “Thank you, Damian. But it’s better if I do.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway, his hand brushing against yours briefly—a silent promise that he was there if you needed him.

Part 2: The Confrontation at Home

The walk home felt endless, even though it was only a few blocks. Each step dragged as your heart pounded in your chest. The frigid Gotham air was no longer biting; instead, it felt suffocating.

By the time you reached your house, you noticed the front porch light flickering faintly, as if it, too, was worn out by the energy inside. You hesitated on the doorstep, your fingers trembling as you reached for the doorknob.

The moment you stepped inside, the heavy scent of alcohol hit you. It was almost a permanent fixture in the house now, along with the faintly sour smell of sweat and unwashed laundry. You tried to slip into the hallway unnoticed, but the sound of a chair scraping against the kitchen floor froze you in place.

“Y/N!” Your father’s voice roared through the small space.

You turned slowly, already bracing yourself. He stood in the doorway, his frame slouched and disheveled. His bloodshot eyes glared at you, a near-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“You think you can just waltz in here after ignoring me? Huh?” He staggered toward you, his voice thick with anger and liquor.

“I didn’t ignore you,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone even. “I came home as soon as you called.”

“Don’t you dare talk back to me!” he shouted, slamming the bottle onto the counter. The sound echoed, making you flinch. “You were out there with him, weren’t you? That little punk who thinks he’s better than everyone else?”

“He’s just a friend, Dad,” you said, your voice trembling. “We were studying—”

“Studying?” he mocked, his voice dripping with venom. “You think I’m stupid? I see how you look at him. You think he’s going to save you? Fix everything?”

Your chest tightened. “I don’t think that, I just—”

“Just what?” He cut you off, his face inches from yours now. The stench of alcohol on his breath was overwhelming. “You’re nothing without me, you hear me? Nothing! All this…” He gestured wildly around the room. “All this crap I put up with, all the money I spend, and this is how you repay me?”

You stepped back, your heel hitting the edge of the hallway rug. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

His laugh was cold and humorless. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Y/N. You don’t get it, do you? You don’t have a life outside this house. You don’t get to defy me!”

His hand shot out faster than you could react. The slap echoed through the room, sharp and cruel. Pain radiated across your cheek and eye as you stumbled back, clutching your face.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him.

“Go to your room,” he spat, his voice slurring as he turned away and grabbed his bottle again. “And don’t even think about leaving until I say so.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t even look back. You just bolted up the stairs and into your room, shutting the door behind you and locking it.

Part 3: The Messages

Your room was your only sanctuary, though even here, the sounds of your father’s shouting and stomping reached you. You collapsed onto your bed, clutching your phone like a lifeline. Without thinking, you opened the messages with Damian.

Y/N: I’m home.

Damian: What happened?

Y/N: It’s fine. I just need to cool off.

Damian: Don’t lie to me. What did he do?

You hesitated, staring at the screen. Your hands trembled as you typed.

Y/N: We argued. It’s nothing new.

Damian: Y/N.

Y/N: He hit me.

The moment you sent it, you wanted to take it back. You didn’t want Damian to know, didn’t want him to look at you differently. But his response came almost instantly.

Damian: I’m coming over.

Your heart raced.

Y/N: No! You can’t. He’ll freak out if he sees you.

Damian: He won’t see me.

Part 4: Damian’s Arrival

The hours dragged on as the house fell into a tense silence. From your window, you could see the faint glow of streetlights and hear the distant hum of traffic. Inside, though, the quiet was suffocating. Your father had likely passed out on the couch, the bottle still in his hand. You didn’t dare leave your room to check.

Your phone vibrated in your hand.

Damian: I’m here. Open your window.

Your breath hitched. You scrambled to the window, peeking out into the darkness. Sure enough, there he was—perched on the low-hanging branch of the oak tree just outside. He wore his usual black hoodie and dark jeans, blending into the shadows like the trained assassin he was.

You unlocked the window and pushed it open. “Damian, you shouldn’t—”

“Shh.” He climbed inside with practiced ease, landing silently on your carpet. His piercing green eyes scanned your face, narrowing when he saw the faint bruise forming around your eye.

His expression darkened, a mix of anger and something deeper—something protective. He stepped closer, his hands hovering near your face but not touching. “He did this to you.” It wasn’t a question.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His jaw clenched, and you could see the internal battle raging behind his eyes. You knew Damian—he was used to solving problems with action, with force. But this wasn’t a fight he could jump into.

“You shouldn’t have come,” you whispered, breaking the silence.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “I wasn’t going to leave you here alone after that.”

“I didn’t want to drag you into this,” you admitted, sitting down on the edge of your bed. Your hands fidgeted in your lap. “It’s not your problem.”

He crouched in front of you, his eyes leveling with yours. “It is my problem if someone’s hurting you.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and before you could stop yourself, the tears you’d been holding back all night started to fall.

“I’m so tired, Damian,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “I can’t do this anymore. He’s always yelling, always drinking, always… hitting. And no matter what I do, it’s never enough for him. I just—”

You couldn’t finish. Your sobs took over, and you buried your face in your hands.

Without a word, Damian moved to sit beside you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You clung to him like a lifeline, your tears soaking into his hoodie.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “You don’t have to face this alone anymore.”

His words felt like a balm on your shattered heart. For once, you didn’t feel completely alone.

Part 5: The Quiet Comfort

Damian stayed silent for a long time, letting you cry until your sobs turned into soft sniffles. His hand moved gently along your back, a quiet reassurance that he was there.

“I want you to come with me,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want you staying here with him,” he said firmly. “You don’t deserve this. You can stay at the manor.”

You shook your head, the thought overwhelming. “Damian, I can’t just leave. He’s my dad. What if—”

“What if he hurts you worse next time?” Damian interrupted, his voice sharp but not unkind. “You think he’ll stop? You think he’ll change?”

You swallowed hard, unable to answer. Deep down, you knew he was right.

“I’ll talk to Bruce,” Damian continued, his tone softening. “We’ll figure something out. You don’t have to go back to this—not ever.”

The idea was tempting, but the fear of what your father would do if he found out paralyzed you. “What if he comes after me?”

“He won’t,” Damian said simply. There was an edge to his voice now, a quiet promise that sent a chill down your spine. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Part 6: A Night of Peace

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater kicking in. Damian’s arms remained around you, solid and reassuring. You leaned into his chest, your body still trembling slightly from the adrenaline and fear. For a moment, the world outside seemed distant, muffled by his steady presence.

“I don’t know if I can leave,” you whispered, breaking the silence.

Damian tilted his head to look at you, his sharp green eyes softened with understanding. “You’re scared. I get that. But staying here won’t help you, Y/N. It’ll only get worse.”

You looked away, your gaze drifting toward the faint crack in the wall above your desk. That crack had been there for years, a silent reminder of one of your father’s drunken outbursts. “What if leaving makes him angrier? What if he… tries to find me? I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

“He won’t get near you,” Damian said, his voice low and resolute. “I’ll make sure of it.”

The certainty in his words made your chest tighten. It wasn’t just empty reassurance—this was Damian Wayne. The son of Batman. Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it took to protect you.

“You’re not alone in this,” he continued, his hand resting gently on your arm. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself anymore.”

The weight of his words broke through your defenses. Slowly, you nodded. “Okay. I… I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” he said, his voice softening.

Damian stayed close for the rest of the night. The tension that had gripped you all day began to ease, replaced by the quiet comfort of his presence. You sat together on your bed, talking about anything and everything to distract yourself—the books he’d been reading, the latest Wayne Enterprises scandal, even some of the more bizarre cases he’d helped his father with as Robin.

“You really fought a guy dressed as a giant condiment bottle?” you asked, your eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Damian gave you a rare smile, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Unfortunately, yes. Condiment King. He’s… not exactly the brightest of Gotham’s criminals.”

The laugh that bubbled out of you felt foreign, almost strange after the night you’d had. But Damian seemed to notice, his smile growing slightly.

“There it is,” he said quietly.

“What?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Your smile.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your hands. “It’s… been a while.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. “You deserve to smile more, Y/N. To laugh. To feel safe.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve someone like Damian in your life, but in that moment, you were endlessly grateful for him.

Part 7: The Plan

As the night stretched on, you leaned against Damian’s shoulder, exhaustion finally catching up to you. His presence was like a shield, keeping the fear and pain at bay.

“Get some rest,” he murmured, his hand lightly brushing against your hair.

You hesitated. “What about you? You can’t stay here all night. If my dad wakes up—”

“He won’t,” Damian said firmly. “And even if he does, he won’t touch you. I promise.”

His confidence was unwavering, but you still worried. “What if he sees you leave?”

“I’ve snuck into far more secure places than this,” he said with a faint smirk. “He won’t see me.”

You nodded, finally giving in. “Okay.”

As you settled into bed, Damian stayed seated on the edge, his watchful eyes scanning the room like a sentry. Even as your eyelids grew heavy, you felt his presence grounding you, keeping the darkness at bay.

The next morning, Damian was gone, but the weight of his words lingered. You stared at your phone, reading over the last text he’d sent before leaving.

. Part 8: Breaking the Cycle

The sunlight creeping through your curtains felt out of place. The house was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of your father stomping around or slamming doors absent. You sat up in bed, clutching your phone like a lifeline. Damian’s words from the night before replayed in your mind:

“You’re not alone, Y/N. Call me when you’re ready.”

But were you ready? The thought of leaving terrified you, even if staying was worse. You hesitated before opening your door, tiptoeing into the hallway. The living room reeked of stale alcohol and cigarettes, but your father was nowhere in sight. The empty bottle on the coffee table told you everything you needed to know—he was likely passed out in his bedroom.

Your fingers itched to text Damian, but doubt crept in. Was leaving really the answer? What if things got worse? What if your father came after you?

Later That Morning

By midday, the silence was broken. Your father’s door slammed open, and his heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. You froze in the kitchen, clutching the counter as he appeared in the doorway, looking worse than usual—his hair unkempt, his face pale and splotchy.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay in your room?” he growled, his voice rough from last night’s whiskey.

“I-I just came down to make breakfast,” you stammered, avoiding his gaze.

He sneered, stumbling closer. “Breakfast? You think I care about breakfast? You think you can do whatever you want now, huh? Just because you’re playing friends with that little rich boy?”

Your stomach churned. “It’s not like that. We were studying—”

“Don’t lie to me!” he snapped, his hand slamming against the counter beside you. You flinched, taking a step back. “You think you’re better than me? You think you can just walk out of here whenever you feel like it?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” you said, your voice cracking.

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he was going to hit you again. But instead, he pointed toward the stairs. “Get out of my sight. Now.”

You practically ran to your room, slamming the door shut and locking it. Your breathing was ragged, tears threatening to spill as you grabbed your phone and opened your messages with Damian.

Y/N: I can’t do this anymore. I want to leave.

His response came almost instantly.

Damian: I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Pack a bag.

Your hands trembled as you read the text. Was this really happening? Could you really leave? You shoved the doubts aside and grabbed a backpack, stuffing it with clothes, your phone charger, and a few essentials. As you zipped it up, the weight of what you were about to do hit you like a freight train.

Part 9: The Escape

Exactly twenty minutes later, there was a soft tap at your window. You turned to see Damian crouched on the branch, his hood pulled low over his face. He motioned for you to open the window.

You slid it up quietly, your heart pounding as he climbed inside. His green eyes immediately scanned the room before landing on you. “Are you ready?”

You nodded, gripping the strap of your backpack tightly. “Yeah.”

Damian’s gaze softened as he stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he said gently. “But you don’t have to be. I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You swallowed hard, nodding again. Damian led you to the window, pausing to glance over his shoulder. “Is he still here?”

“He’s downstairs,” you whispered. “Probably passed out again.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Climbing out the window was harder than you expected, but Damian guided you, his steady presence giving you the courage to keep going. Once you were both on the ground, he grabbed your hand and led you through the backyard and into the alley behind your house.

A sleek black car was parked at the end of the alley, its engine idling softly. Damian opened the passenger door for you, and you slipped inside. The interior smelled faintly of leather and pine, a stark contrast to the chaos you’d just left behind.

As Damian slid into the driver’s seat and pulled away, a wave of relief washed over you. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a glimmer of hope.

Part 10: The Manor

The drive to Wayne Manor was quiet. Damian kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t push you to talk. The hum of the car’s engine and the city fading into the distance were the only sounds accompanying your thoughts.

Wayne Manor came into view after a few turns up a winding road. The massive estate loomed against the gray Gotham skyline, a combination of imposing and strangely comforting. Damian pulled into the private driveway, the iron gates closing behind the car automatically.

As he parked, he turned to you. “You’re safe now. No one will hurt you here.”

You nodded, clutching the strap of your bag tightly as you stepped out of the car. The enormity of the mansion made you hesitate, but Damian was already at your side, his hand resting lightly on your back to guide you.

The front doors opened before you reached them, revealing Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler. His calm, discerning gaze immediately fell on you, and a faint smile touched his lips.

“Master Damian, I take it this is our guest?” Alfred asked, his tone warm yet professional.

“Yes,” Damian said, his voice firm but gentle. “Y/N is staying here for a while.”

Alfred nodded, stepping aside to let you in. “Welcome to Wayne Manor, Miss Y/N. Please, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Inside the Manor

The interior of the manor was even more overwhelming than the exterior. High ceilings, ornate chandeliers, and a grand staircase made the space feel almost unreal. You followed Damian silently, your nerves twisting as he led you to a smaller sitting room.

“You should rest,” he said, motioning to the plush couch. “I’ll grab Alfred and get you something to eat.”

You sat down tentatively, the soft cushions swallowing you. “Damian… what if my dad comes looking for me?”

“He won’t find you here,” Damian said confidently. “And even if he does, he’ll regret it.”

There was a hardness in his voice that made you shiver. You believed him, though. If anyone could protect you, it was Damian.

A few minutes later, Alfred returned with a tray of tea and sandwiches. “You must be exhausted,” he said, setting the tray down in front of you. “Master Damian has informed me of your situation. Rest assured, you are quite safe here.”

“Thank you,” you said again, your voice cracking slightly.

As you sipped the tea, Damian sat beside you, his presence a quiet reassurance.

“Bruce will want to meet you,” he said after a moment.

“Your dad?” you asked, suddenly nervous. “I don’t want to cause any trouble…”

“You won’t,” Damian said firmly. “He’ll understand. And he’ll help. Trust me.”

You nodded, though the thought of meeting Bruce Wayne—a man as intimidating as the manor itself—made your stomach twist.

Part 11: Meeting Bruce

An hour later, Damian led you to Bruce’s study. Your heart raced as he knocked once and pushed the door open.

Bruce Wayne sat at his desk, his sharp blue eyes lifting from a stack of papers as you entered. He was every bit as imposing as you’d imagined, his presence commanding the room. But there was something about his expression—a mix of concern and understanding—that made you feel slightly less nervous.

“Y/N,” Bruce said, rising from his chair and extending a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You shook his hand tentatively, glancing at Damian for reassurance.

“Damian told me everything,” Bruce said, his voice steady but gentle. “You don’t have to worry. You’re safe here, and we’ll do whatever we can to help you.”

The kindness in his tone caught you off guard, and you felt your eyes welling up again. “Thank you. I… I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You made the right choice,” Bruce said. “No one deserves to live in fear. We’ll make sure your father doesn’t hurt you again.”

His words carried a weight of finality, as if they were a promise etched in stone.

Part 12: A New Beginning

That night, Damian showed you to one of the many guest rooms. It was bigger than your entire bedroom back home, with soft lighting and a bed that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel.

As you unpacked your bag, Damian leaned against the doorway, watching you quietly.

“You okay?” he asked after a moment.

You turned to him, offering a small smile. “Better. Thank you, Damian. For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, stepping into the room. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but… it feels good to breathe again. To not feel trapped.”

Damian sat beside you, his hand resting lightly on yours. “One step at a time. You’ll get through this. And I’ll be here, no matter what.”

For the first time in a long while, you felt a flicker of hope. You weren’t alone anymore, and for now, that was enough.

Part 13: Settling In

The next few days passed in a blur. You stayed in the guest room, adjusting to the quiet luxury of Wayne Manor. It felt strange—having peace, space, and no yelling. Every time the silence stretched too long, you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for a shout or a crash that never came.

Damian stayed close. He had a way of hovering without being overbearing, his presence a constant reassurance. Alfred brought you meals and always checked in with a kind smile. Even Bruce stopped by once or twice, offering updates about what steps he was taking to ensure your safety.

One Morning in the Manor

Damian knocked softly on your door before stepping inside. “How are you feeling today?”

You looked up from the book you’d been pretending to read, offering a small smile. “Better, I think. Still… weird.”

“Weird?” he echoed, sitting down on the armchair across from you.

“Quiet,” you admitted. “I keep expecting something bad to happen. It’s like my brain doesn’t know how to relax.”

He nodded, understanding in his sharp green eyes. “It’ll take time. You’ve spent years in survival mode. You can’t unlearn that overnight.”

The thought made your chest tighten. “What if I never do? What if I’m always stuck like this?”

“You won’t be,” Damian said firmly. “You’re stronger than you think, Y/N. And you have people who care about you now. You’re not doing this alone.”

His words brought a lump to your throat, but you managed to nod. “Thanks, Damian. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You won’t have to find out,” he said, his voice soft but unwavering.

Part 14: A New Routine

As the days turned into weeks, you started to settle into a new rhythm. Alfred’s calm presence became a source of comfort, and Bruce’s quiet support reassured you that you weren’t a burden.

Damian was your constant, though. He had a way of knowing when you needed space and when you needed him close. He took you on walks around the expansive grounds, introduced you to the family’s collection of exotic pets, and even convinced you to join him in the training room one afternoon.

In the Training Room

“Hold your stance,” Damian instructed, his voice calm but firm.

You adjusted your footing, feeling awkward as you held up your fists. “Like this?”

“Better,” he said, circling around you to adjust your posture. “Remember, it’s about balance. You’re not trying to overpower someone; you’re trying to outmaneuver them.”

You exhaled sharply, trying to focus. “I feel ridiculous.”

“You look fine,” Damian said with a smirk. “Better than most people do on their first try.”

“Are you actually giving me a compliment?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, his smirk widening slightly.

The playful banter lightened the mood, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a spark of confidence.

Part 15: Confronting the Past

One evening, as you sat in the living room scrolling through your phone, Bruce walked in. He carried a folder in his hand, his expression serious but not unkind.

“Y/N,” he said, sitting across from you. “I’ve been looking into your father.”

Your stomach tightened. “What did you find?”

Bruce hesitated, his eyes softening. “He has a record—multiple DUIs, reports of domestic disturbances. Nothing that ever led to serious consequences, unfortunately. But it’s enough to build a case.”

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling slightly. “What does that mean? Will he… go to jail?”

“That depends,” Bruce said carefully. “You’d have to be willing to give a statement. To tell your story.”

The thought made your chest ache. The idea of standing up to your father, of reliving everything in front of strangers, was terrifying.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Bruce added. “But if you want to take legal action, we’ll support you every step of the way.”

You nodded slowly, your mind racing. “I’ll… think about it.”

That night, you sat on the balcony outside your room, staring at the stars. Damian joined you a few minutes later, sitting silently beside you.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he asked.

You nodded. “I just… I don’t know if I can do it. What if it doesn’t work? What if he gets away with it?”

“He won’t,” Damian said firmly. “Not with Bruce involved. And not with me.”

The conviction in his voice made you feel braver than you had in a long time. “I’m scared, Damian.”

“I know,” he said, his hand brushing against yours. “But you’re not alone. Whatever you decide, I’ll be right here.”

You leaned against his shoulder, the warmth of his presence grounding you. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured. “Just let me help you.”

Part 16: Taking the First Step

The decision lingered in your mind for days, every thought leading back to the idea of facing your father and exposing the years of abuse. The idea terrified you, but Damian’s unwavering presence gave you strength.

One morning, as you sat in the sunlit dining room picking at a plate of scrambled eggs Alfred had prepared, Bruce walked in. He gave you a small nod before sitting across from you, placing a phone and a folder on the table.

“I have someone you should talk to,” Bruce said gently.

Your heart skipped. “Who?”

“A social worker. Her name is Ellen Grayson. She specializes in helping people in situations like yours—people ready to take action but unsure where to start.”

Damian, who had been leaning against the wall nearby, stepped forward. “She’s good at what she does,” he added. “And she’s someone we trust.”

You hesitated, your fork hovering above your plate. “What… what would I have to do?”

Bruce’s voice was calm and measured. “Talk to her. Tell her your story. She’ll help you decide what steps to take next. You don’t have to commit to anything right away.”

Your chest felt tight, but you nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to her.”

Meeting Ellen

That afternoon, Damian sat beside you in one of the manor’s private offices as Bruce called Ellen on speakerphone. Her voice was warm and calm, her tone immediately putting you at ease.

“Y/N, I want you to know that you’re very brave for even considering this,” Ellen said. “I know it’s not easy to talk about what you’ve been through, but if you’re ready, I’d like to hear your story.”

Damian’s hand rested lightly on your knee, a silent reminder that he was there. You took a deep breath and began to speak, your words halting at first but gaining momentum as you recounted the years of fear, the yelling, the drinking, and the blows you’d endured.

By the time you finished, your voice was shaking, and tears blurred your vision. Ellen’s voice came through the speaker, steady and supportive.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Y/N,” she said. “You’ve been through so much, but I want you to know you’re not alone. We can take this one step at a time, and we’ll make sure you’re safe.”

After the call ended, Damian handed you a glass of water, his green eyes searching your face. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your hands still trembled. “It feels… weird. Like I finally let it out, but now I don’t know what comes next.”

“What comes next is up to you,” Bruce said gently. “But we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Part 17: Filing the Report

The next step was filing a formal police report. Ellen arranged for a detective she trusted to handle your case, someone who specialized in domestic abuse. Bruce and Damian both insisted on coming with you for support.

At the GCPD

The police station was intimidating, its gray walls and harsh lighting making your stomach churn. Damian walked close beside you, his presence a steadying force.

Detective Renee Montoya greeted you with a kind smile, leading you to a quiet room away from the chaos of the main floor. “Take your time,” she said, sliding a notebook and pen across the table. “There’s no rush.”

You hesitated, staring at the blank page. The idea of putting everything into writing made your chest tighten, but Damian gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ve got this,” he said softly.

With a shaky breath, you began to write.

By the time you finished, hours had passed, and your hand ached from gripping the pen so tightly. Montoya skimmed over the report, nodding as she read.

“This is a solid start,” she said. “We’ll move forward with an investigation, but I want you to know this might take some time. If you feel unsafe at any point, call me immediately.”

You nodded, your exhaustion overwhelming. “Thank you.”

Montoya smiled. “You’re brave, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

Part 18: A Night of Reflection

That night, back at the manor, you sat on the balcony outside your room, staring at the Gotham skyline. The weight of everything you’d done settled on your shoulders—telling your story, filing the report, taking the first real steps toward freedom.

Damian joined you, a quiet presence at your side. He didn’t say anything at first, letting the silence stretch comfortably between you.

“Do you think I did the right thing?” you asked finally.

He looked at you, his green eyes steady. “I know you did. You’re taking control of your life, Y/N. That’s never the wrong choice.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said, his voice soft. “And you never will.”

As the night stretched on, the stars above seeming brighter than usual, you felt a strange sense of peace. For the first time in years, you weren’t just surviving—you were beginning to live.

Part 19: A Moment of Closeness

After the long day, exhaustion weighed on you, but you couldn’t sleep. The quiet of the manor wasn’t threatening, but it gave you too much time to think. Your mind replayed the conversation with Ellen, the time at the police station, and the memories you’d unearthed. The ache in your chest felt unbearable.

Sighing, you grabbed your phone and sent Damian a quick text.

Y/N: Are you awake?

It took less than a minute for his reply to come through.

Damian: I am now. What’s wrong?

You hesitated, not wanting to seem needy, but the thought of being alone with your spiraling thoughts was worse.

Y/N: Can you come to my room?

A soft knock came moments later. When you opened the door, Damian stood there in a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly tousled as if he’d been lying down. His eyes searched yours, and without saying a word, he stepped inside.

“You’re overthinking again,” he said softly, shutting the door behind him.

You shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “It’s hard not to. Everything feels so… heavy.”

Damian crouched in front of you, resting his hands lightly on your knees. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”

“I know,” you murmured, looking down at where his hands touched you. “But sometimes it feels like I’ll never be free of it.”

“You will,” he said firmly. “It’s going to take time, but I promise you, you’ll get there.”

The conviction in his voice made your throat tighten. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He froze for a split second, then relaxed into the embrace, his arms sliding around your waist.

An Intimate Moment

Damian pulled you closer, his hands warm and steady on your back. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his faint, clean scent. For the first time that day, the weight in your chest seemed to ease.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

“I just… I don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you admitted, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his green eyes intense but gentle. “Then let me help you.”

His thumb brushed a stray tear from your cheek, the touch so tender it made your heart ache. “You’re safe here, Y/N. With me, with Bruce, with Alfred. No one is going to hurt you again.”

You nodded, though your tears continued to fall. “I just feel so broken sometimes.”

“You’re not broken,” he said quietly, his voice firm but kind. “You’re hurt, but you’re healing. And that takes strength.”

The sincerity in his tone made your breath catch. “How are you always this sure of everything?”

“I’m not,” he admitted, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “But when it comes to you, I am.”

The vulnerability in his words made your heart race. You hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. His eyes fluttered closed, his breath brushing your lips as the space between you seemed to disappear.

The First Kiss

The moment lingered, the air around you thick with unspoken emotions. You weren’t sure who moved first, but your lips met his in a tentative, gentle kiss. Damian’s hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you close as the kiss deepened, his touch warm and grounding.

When you finally pulled back, your cheeks flushed, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath unsteady.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, your heart pounding. “Me too.”

Part 20: In Each Other’s Arms

Later that night, Damian stayed with you, his presence a comforting weight beside you. You lay curled against him, your head resting on his chest as his fingers traced idle patterns on your arm.

“You should sleep,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

“I’m afraid of the nightmares,” you admitted.

“You’re not alone,” he said, his hand brushing over your hair. “If you wake up, I’ll be here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear slowly lulled you into a sense of calm. For the first time in as long as you could remember, you felt safe—truly, undeniably safe.

And as sleep finally claimed you, Damian’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if he could shield you from the rest of the world.

Part 21: Facing the Past Together

The days following your intimate moment with Damian felt different. The bond between you had deepened in a way neither of you had expected, and while the vulnerability that had surfaced between you both still lingered in the air, there was a certain warmth now whenever you were together.

Damian continued to be your rock, always present, always steady. The manor had become more than just a refuge; it was a place where you were slowly rebuilding—reclaiming pieces of yourself that had been lost. Yet, the weight of your past still haunted you.

Late Afternoon in the Manor

It was a quiet afternoon when Bruce came to find you in the library. He had his usual calm demeanor, but there was an edge of urgency in his voice that caught your attention.

“Y/N, we’ve heard back from the investigation team,” he said, standing at the doorway, holding a folder.

Your stomach tightened. “And?”

Bruce looked at you, his expression unreadable. “We have enough evidence now to pursue a restraining order, and we’re beginning to build the case for possible charges against your father. But… there’s more to discuss.”

Your heart raced. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but the weight of Bruce’s words made your mind spin. Damian was right beside you now, his presence like a grounding force.

“What else?” you asked, trying to steady your breathing.

Bruce paused for a moment before continuing. “Your father’s been informed that we’re involved. He might take more aggressive actions in response. We need to be prepared for that.”

Damian’s jaw clenched, his hand subtly brushing yours as he stood closer. “We’re ready for whatever he throws at us,” he said, his voice low but resolute.

Bruce nodded, offering you a comforting look. “We’ll be taking additional measures to keep you safe, Y/N. You won’t have to face him alone anymore.”

You swallowed, the weight of everything hitting you all at once. “Thank you, Bruce. I don’t know what I’d do without you all.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. You’re family now,” Bruce said, his voice steady and reassuring.

Part 22: The Moment of Truth

The next day, the investigation took a more active turn. Detective Montoya contacted you directly, informing you that your father was aware of the charges against him. He was, predictably, furious.

“You need to stay alert,” Montoya told you over the phone. “We’re taking steps to protect you, but it’s crucial that you avoid contact with him for now. If he shows up at the manor or anywhere near you—call me immediately.”

Damian, overhearing the conversation, moved closer to you. “You’ll be okay,” he said softly, though you could see the tension in his features.

You nodded, feeling the deep knot in your stomach tighten. “I know… I just don’t feel okay, though. What if he tries something—what if he comes after me?”

Damian took your hand gently in his, squeezing it. “He won’t get past me.”

That evening, after the conversation with Montoya, Bruce came to see you in your room. His expression was calm, but you could tell he was thinking through the strategy.

“We’re putting in place additional security,” Bruce said. “Damian will stay with you at all times for now. We’ll have someone monitoring your father’s movements, but we’ll also be here to keep an eye on things. You don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

You looked at Damian, his presence both comforting and intense. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

He nodded. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Part 23: A Quiet Evening

Later that night, after dinner, the two of you found yourselves once again on the balcony, the cool night air drifting around you. The stars above felt endless, much like the road ahead.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, staring at the horizon.

Damian sat next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he looked out at the dark sky. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

You turned to him, studying his face, noticing the lines of worry etched on his brow despite his calm demeanor. “I don’t know how to ask for help,” you confessed. “I’ve never really had anyone I could rely on before.”

He met your gaze, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding. “You have me now. And I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re a burden. You’re not.”

Your heart swelled at his words, but it was hard to ignore the emotions that still felt tangled in your chest. “I’m scared, Damian.”

“I know,” he replied, his hand reaching for yours. “But fear doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re still fighting.”

You turned your palm up, your fingers intertwining with his. For a moment, the weight of everything you’d been through—the fear, the pain—seemed to dissipate as his warmth wrapped around you.

Damian leaned in, his forehead touching yours. “You don’t need to carry the world on your shoulders, Y/N. I’m here. You’ll never be alone in this.”

The depth in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice, made the last bit of doubt fade away. You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart reassure you.

Part 24: In His Arms

As the night grew darker, you stayed there, together, in each other’s company. Damian’s arms wrapped around you, his presence both a shield and a comfort. You felt his fingers trace slow circles on your back, the rhythm soothing as you closed your eyes and let yourself relax for the first time in days.

“I need you to know something,” Damian said quietly, his voice soft in the night air.

You looked up at him, the words you’d wanted to say in the back of your mind finally finding their way to your lips. “What is it?”

“I care about you, Y/N. More than I can explain.” His gaze softened as he spoke, his hand gently cupping your face. “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens next.”

You swallowed hard, feeling your chest tighten with emotion. “I care about you, too.”

The intensity in his eyes deepened, and without another word, his lips found yours. It was soft at first, tender—an unspoken promise that all the pain, all the fear, would eventually fade. For now, you were here together, and that was enough.

Part 25: A Moment Interrupted

The night had grown deeper, and the soft glow from the stars outside illuminated the quiet balcony. You and Damian had been talking—about everything and nothing. The conversation had drifted from your past to your hopes for the future, from your fears to the small moments of peace you’d found together. It was one of those rare times when the world felt still, and for a brief moment, you could forget about everything else.

Damian’s fingers traced small patterns on your wrist, his touch gentle, thoughtful. There was an unspoken tension between you two, something that had been building over the past few days. Every glance, every word, felt more loaded than the last.

Without realizing it, you found yourself leaning closer to him, your heartbeat quickening with each passing second. Damian’s eyes flickered to your lips, then back up to your eyes, as if silently asking for permission.

You didn’t hesitate. Closing the gap between you, you kissed him softly, your lips brushing against his in a gentle, almost tentative touch.

His hand cupped your face, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek as the kiss deepened. The warmth between you both surged, the tension of the past few days melting away as his lips moved against yours, slow and tender. It was everything you’d wanted, everything you’d needed—a quiet moment where nothing else mattered but the two of you.

His other hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer, your bodies aligning as you lost yourself in the kiss. The night air seemed to disappear, leaving only the sensation of his touch, the soft rhythm of your breathing, the shared warmth that made you feel safe.

But then, just as you were completely lost in the moment, a voice rang out from the door, breaking through the bubble of intimacy.

“Well, well, well…” Bruce’s amused voice echoed in the hallway.

Both you and Damian immediately jumped apart, the suddenness of the interruption making your heart race in embarrassment. You scrambled for words, but none came.

Bruce was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame with a knowing smile on his face. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he surveyed the scene, clearly entertained by your flustered reactions.

Damian’s face was flushed, his usual composure faltering as he shifted uncomfortably. “Bruce, we—uh, we didn’t hear you.”

You couldn’t stop the heat from flooding your face. You had barely kissed him, but the interruption made it feel like you’d done something much more. “Sorry,” you mumbled, not meeting Bruce’s eyes.

Bruce chuckled, stepping further into the room. “Don’t worry, kids. It’s not like I’ve never had this happen before.” He waved a hand dismissively, clearly unbothered. “Just don’t get carried away. And, Damian…”

Damian straightened, his embarrassment quickly turning into a defensive stance. “What?”

“Just make sure she stays safe, alright?” Bruce said with a small, almost affectionate grin. “I trust you both, but I’m sure we can all agree that you two don’t need any more distractions.”

Damian gave a sharp nod. “Of course.”

Bruce’s smile softened. “Good. Now, get some rest. We have a lot to handle tomorrow.” He turned to leave, but then paused and glanced back at the two of you.

“I’m happy for you both,” he added, his voice quieter. “But remember, there’s still work to do.”

With that, Bruce left, the door clicking shut behind him.

For a long moment, neither you nor Damian spoke. The air was thick with the awkwardness of the situation, and both of you avoided looking at each other, the weight of Bruce’s words hanging between you.

Finally, Damian broke the silence, his voice almost shy. “Well, that was… unexpected.”

You let out a small laugh, still feeling your cheeks burning. “I feel like we’ve just been caught doing something we didn’t even do.”

Damian smirked, his hand finding yours again, the tension from earlier quickly dissolving into something more familiar. “We didn’t,” he said simply. “But we’re definitely going to have to be careful around Bruce from now on.”

You chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I think I’ll avoid making eye contact with him for a while.”

Damian gave you a small, teasing smile, leaning in close again, but this time, he didn’t kiss you. Instead, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

“Are you still nervous?” he asked quietly.

You smiled softly, meeting his gaze. “A little, but not as much as I was before.”

“Good,” he said, his voice low and comforting. “You should be able to relax around me.”

“I do,” you whispered, your heart fluttering in your chest.

And for that moment, everything felt perfectly, blissfully right.

[aurawrawr]

Who am I to you?

Part 3

King of Curses Ryomen Sukuna x afab reader x twin brother and Kingsguard Yuuji Itadori

Yuuji is eager to be a father. And when it seems to him that he might not be well equipped to fulfill his goal, he seeks help from the only person he knows will do it without a second thought. But someone should have warned him that this (re)union might breed more than a child, something he'd regret for a long time.

Here's Part 1 and Part 2.

Minors, DNI. WC: 4.9k

CW: smoking, infertility, anger, frustration, feeling humiliated, poisoning, paralysis, heavy drinking, mutual bickering, lots of angst, true form Sukuna, PIV sex, oral [fem receiving(from tummy tongue)], breast play, praises, breeding, talk about pregnancy and motherhood

"He wants to see you.”

You have your head in your hands. As if the past two weeks have not been stressful enough, Yuuji has come to you with a request you can't make heads or tails of. You're not even sure you heard him right. Please have a child with Aniki, that's what you believe he said. But that's insane. Does he have no idea what he's asking for?

"What for? Has he agreed to your proposal?" You're shaking. When you said you wanted to see Ryomen, this is not how you thought it would go.

"He wants to know what you want.”

You scoff. "Do you want to know what I want?”

"You want to be a mother, right? Love, we talked about this before we even started trying. If you had disagreed, I'd have never tried to change your mind. And... and..." Yuuji sits down at the edge of the bed. "By the looks of it, I can't give you a child. So the next best... closest option I can give you is my twin brother. It will be just like having a baby with me, you know.”

"Yuuji, the problem could be with me," You try to reason with your husband.

"Do you really believe that? We studied this for so long, went to doctors and asked for their opinion. We know your cycle is healthy. The bleeding always happens on time. Whereas…”

"There is absolutely no indication that there is something wrong with you either. You do so much physical labor, you stay active, and you have no addictions. Hell, you haven't even touched a bottle of sake since we started trying. If anything, the fact that Ryo has been smoking and drinking since he was fifteen should deter you from making the request that you are."

Yuuji sighs. It's time for him to sit with his head in his hands. Just when you start to think you've gotten through to him, he asks, "please can we try this once?”

So you walk across the courtyard, following your husband's shadow, wavering in the light of the lantern he is holding. It's late, late in the night. The palace is silent, so silent you can hear the snores from the servants' rooms, the clacking of shoes as the guards keep watch, the low hum of a chant from Uraume's room and, of course, your own thumping heartbeat. You were so glad to be finally reuniting with Ryo but so torn to be committing the sin you have been scared of ever since you married Yuuji. What was Ryomen thinking? He should have turned Yuuji down in the first place.

"Aniki," Yuuji calls out from the doorstep. "We're here.”

The room reeks of opium, the smell of yearning and being left behind. The four-armed beast that terrorizes the land is sitting at the window, blowing ringlets of smoke into the air outside. His kimono loosely hangs from his shoulders, baring his chest. You don't know how to look at him without giving away all your truth. So you don't look at him; you look around him.

"Come in," he demands.

Yuuji leads you in by the hand, sitting you down on a couch on the floor. The room has changed so much since you saw it the last time you were allowed to come inside to deliver the King's supper. There is a full-size four post bed taking up a lion's share of the room, it's canopy red and black, a tapestry of danger. You sit in silence, observing the two most important men in your life have a conversation about who gets to breed you. This is the most humiliated you've felt in all your life but you want to see how far they're willing to push your boundaries before they realize they're both losing you.

"My love?" Yuuji beckons you back out of your spiraling thoughts. "Aniki wanted to know if you're okay with all this.”

"Tell him I don't care.”

"That settles it, Yuuji. I don't wish to proceed if she's not willing. It'd be—”

"What I mean is..." You grit your teeth. "I don't care as long as it is something Yuuji wants.”

Your husband rushes to you, kneels and looks up at you with teary eyes. "Thank you, my love. Thank you so much. You make my world a better place to live in. I've never and I can never love anyone as much as I love you. Well, maybe the baby. But both of you will be sharing the same spot on my heart." He kisses your hand and you caress the side of his face when he looks at you like you've just picked the moon from the sky to give it to him. He's so precious, you want to do just that.

You feel a somber gaze on you but Ryo is facing elsewhere when you look up. Only the two eyes on his mask are on you and they give away nothing. Not even a speck of emotion. He's back to being the old him, the Ryo you could never figure out.

Yuuji wipes at his runny nose before standing up. "You two have a lot to catch up on. Why don't I leave you to it? We don't want it to be uncomfortable when you know... you two... yeah, I'm going to... okay! See you later, my love.”

You sit in silence, staring at the door that Yuuji shuts behind him. The night is chilly and the open window beside Ryo is not helping in the slightest. What do you have to talk to him about? What can you even say? I've been imagining your face at the heights of my pleasure for the last five years? Too forward. I'm still gonna call you the name I have our entire lives and not refer to you as the Lord or the King? A little offensive.

He clears his throat and sits up. His kimono falls further apart, drawing your eyes to his abdomen. You only wanted to steal a glance but the sight of his gaping belly shakes you to your very core. He starts to say, "I was thinking—”

But you stop him, "Are you hurt?" Your eyes are fixated on his abdomen and you can swear you see something moving.

"Where?" He follows your gaze. "This? It's only a second mouth.”

You look up at his face in horror, finally meeting his eyes. "A second mouth? What happened— you know what, never mind. Just let me know when—”

"No, go ahead." His voice is suddenly so much softer. "Ask me anything.”

You scoff. "You're much agreeable when you know you're about to fuck me, aren't you?”

His eyes grow darker at your challenge. His jaw tightens. "I shall not tolerate being talked to like that anymore. We're no longer just friends. I am your King and you will remember that.”

"Right. Understood... Sukuna-sama." The sound of your heart breaking is so loud, you barely hear his next words anymore.

"Do you agree? Woman?”

"I'm sorry, could you please repeat yourself... my Lord?" Your eyes are downcast now. The water on your lids make them heavy.

Ryomen sighs. "I suggested we lie to Yuuji. And hopefully he'll give this up in a few months when you don't become with child. Do you agree with that?”

"No, I don't. I too want a child, my Lord, and if you care about your brother, you'll give me one.”

𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸

The next time you see Ryo in his chambers, you go alone. In the middle of the night. The palace is busy for the upcoming coronation of their terrifying protector, readying the halls for guests from neighboring kingdoms. Sneaking is not an option so you carry a tea set up the stairs as an excuse to visit the King.

The fusuma slides open just as you're about to knock, revealing a towering Ryomen on the other side. As if, he has been expecting you. You quickly steer your glance and bow to him. "I'm here with your tea, my Lord."

"Come in." He steps out of your way.

The state of the room surprises you. It does not smell of weed or tobacco anymore; in fact, it smells pleasant. Somehow, it looks bigger, cleaner. You set the tray down on the tatami, kneel in front of it, and Ryomen takes up the spot opposite to you. "Why is there only one cup?" He asks, folding two of his arms over his chest while the other two rest on his thighs.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my Lord. Do you require two separate cups?”

"No, woman, where is your cup?”

You chuckle. "I dare not drink tea with my King now. That'd be blasphemous." You keep the smug smile on your face while you swirl the kyūsu and strain the tea into the cup you brought for Ryomen. He picks it up and takes a sip before placing it back on the tray.

"Drink," he orders. You shake your head, feeling a sudden rush of courage. "I said, drink. You dare to defy your King, do you?”

His words make you stop. There's no ill intent in his words, no authority in his tone, just a friendly challenge. So you bring his cup to your lips to take down a big chug. "You're having fun with this, aren't you?" You ask.

"As much as you are." There's a smirk on his lips, like there used to be on your friend, Ryomen's lips.

Nothing happens that night. The tray sits between as you two chat about things like old friends do, the air filled with your chuckles as he teases you for being a missus now, for not treating him after the wedding, for not realizing how quick the passing of time and his absence could change everything.

"Have you been to see her?" You ask, pouring again from the teapot.

Ryo knows what you're talking about. "I have. The crime scene had one name written all over it. Yours. What did you do?" He sounds proud.

"Just this berry and that leaf and that other fruit. I only wanted to make sure she can never use her hand to hit someone close to me ever again.”

Ryo smirks, sipping on his tea before handing the cup to you. "And what about my father?”

"I had nothing to do with Otou-san's death. If anything, I believe it was your half-brother's greed." You sigh. "You see what I've married into?”

He scoffs. "Now now, you keep my little brother out of this. His lamb-like innocence makes up for the dysfunctionality of the rest of my family. I'm sorry. I mean, our family.”

𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸

The morning of the coronation, you wake up to the sound of someone knocking on your door. Your husband climbs off the bed before you can. "I'll see who it is, my love. You stay put." You shuffle out of the sheets anyway, your robes intact.

There's a woman's voice outside. "Sukuna-sama has sent your attires for today. I will be helping the lady with her jūnihitoe."

"Jūnihitoe?" Yuuji and you ask at the same time.

"Yes. That is what Sukuna-sama wanted. Is there a problem?"

You shrug at your husband who replies, "umm... no, there's no problem. Please give us some time to freshen up." There's a hum at the door and Yuuji shuts it behind him. He walks up to you as you keep shaking your head. "You know, subtlety is not his strong suit. It'll be fine. Don't worry."

"I'll look like a fish out of water, wearing that in the middle of the servants' rows."

You don't have to sit in the middle of the servants' rows. When Ryo sees you and Yuuji walk out into the yard in your shiny new clothes, he sends Uraume to fetch the two of you close to his makeshift throne. "What are the plans for today?" You ask Uraume as you get as comfortable as possible on the wooden seats.

They huff. "We have the coronation where your mother-in-law will crown Sukuna-sama, who will then appoint the ministers and officially declare Itadori-kun as the Commander of the Kingsguard. Then there's the tourney where the champions from neighboring states have come to compete for a spot on the King of Curses' army. And then there's the feast that will last the rest of the day. You would have known all of that if you didn't lock yourself in your room twenty-four hours a day."

Nothing pleases you more than when they bring in your mother-in-law in a wheelchair, the right side of her body limp from having her tea dosed with high amounts of toxins every day for a year. She can barely speak more than a few syllables without her tongue getting heavy. Your pride bellows in your chest when Ryomen walks down the steps of the dais to get to the center of the yard.

The audience is silent as the beast refuses to bend his knee. The servants help up your mother-in-law, lifting her up on a step as she struggles to hold the crown up in her left hand.

Ryo whispers something you don't hear from afar but you smile when his stepmother is forced to use both her hands to put the crown on his head.

"Aniki is too much at times," Yuuji complains.

"But isn't this so satisfying to watch?"

"That, it is."

The smirk on your face lingers as the proceedings continue. Ryo walks around the yard, naming his ministers even though he just told you the other night that he doesn't need any. He summons Yuji and declares him to be the Commander of the Kingsguard. The crowd doesn't cheer when one brother kneels in front of the other. The crowd doesn't make a peep the whole day; they're there because they don't want to lose their heads or that of their children.

You admire how Ryomen has the whole town under his thumb. The town that wronged you, shunned you and your mother, he's punishing them. You don't know where it is coming from, but there is a sense of accomplishment that you cannot shake off.

He drinks the rest of the day, through the tourney, the declaration of the winner and the evening feast. Every time you see Yuji trying to snatch away his jug from him, Ryo becomes grumpy, demanding his mead be handed back.

To be honest, he doesn't even look drunk. You've seen him inebriated before, in your teenage years. He used to become clumsy and throw things, and curse a lot. But now, he's just... a little grumpy. Maybe his changed physical form has something to do with that.

You're quickly proved wrong. You're talking to some of your colleagues, sitting at the dinner table Uraume assigned to you, when a partially filled jug of ale flies across the room, drenching half the guests. The dinner hall buzzes with commotion, chairs shifting, people questioning, and when you look up toward the direction of the throne, your eyes lock with the King's. He is grumpy because of you.

Only a moment later, Yuuji comes to fetch you. "Aniki is asking for you." His new clothes are flashy, his cloak red like the blood of those he would slay for his brother. He takes your arm in his as he leads you to the throne.

"You wanted to see me, Your Highness?" You bow to the King.

"Yes..h, woman." His words slur. "I am retiring from the party and I wish to dine in my quarters. You will make such arrangements while my brother and I be on our way there."

"Of course, Your Highness."

When you reach the doors of his bedroom, a heavy tray in your hand, you stop to listen in on the conversation between the brothers. "This body was supposed to be a deformity, a curse levied on me for my sins. But I see this as a saturation of strength. What's better than two arms?"

"Four," Yuuji answers. "I agree with you. But I don't understand the mouth on your stomach."

"Actually, this was a gift. It can be used for chanting."

Yuuji hums. "One thing hasn't changed in you. Do you know what that is, Aniki?"

"What?"

"Your massive ego and penchant for showing off." The brothers laugh. "Saturation of strength? Who talks like that?"

You smile as you keep listening. It fills your heart with warmth knowing that the twins have rebuilt their relationship. Still, you can't shake off the feeling of being left behind yet again.

"You're not smoking anymore?"

"No," Ryomen replies. "You assigned me a task, remember? Tobacco and opium might delay or worse, hinder it. Hence—"

Your cheeks start to warm up.

"Alcohol might too," your husband argues. "And yet—"

"Your dinner is here, Your Highness." You put a stop to that conversation as quickly as you can.

Yuuji slides open the door, welcoming you inside. You place the tray on the table in the middle of the room before bowing to the King. Your husband chuckles. "Love, there's nobody around. We don't need to do that here."

He takes your hand and pulls you toward the couch where Ryo is leisurely taking up half the space. Yuuji puts you in his lap, draws you close to his chest as the brothers keep chatting. Your eyes never leave Ryo's. Well, you are not even sure which eyes to follow — the drunk, embarrassed human eyes that fleet between your face and Yuuji's, or the demon eyes frowning at the spot on your arm that Yuuji squeezes every time he adjusts you in his embrace.

The food you brought stays on the table, forgotten and going cold, as the three of you reminisce about your childhood. Yuuji teases you, bringing up how you used to be scared of Ryo when you first arrived at the mansion and still followed him around, touching his arm every now and then, trying to figure him out.

"Shall we get going now?" Yuuji nudges your shoulder with his chin and the demon eyes furrow even further. You nod.

Your husband starts to lead you away when you feel a grip on you, pulling you back. Yuuji turns too when you fall behind. He spots Ryomen's downcast gaze on the spot where the tips of his thumb and first finger meet around your wrist. The shock on Yuuji's face catches your eye but before you can wriggle yourself out of his brother's grasp, he walks back to you and pecks the side of your face. "I'll see you in the morning, my love." And just like that, he is gone.

"You can't be serious." You rebuke Ryomen, yanking your hand away.

"You wanted this." His gaze is still downcast.

You scoff. "Oh, poor Ryomen! It must be so miserable having to fuck a woman. You must have never done that in your whole life."

His eyes flash with frustration. "They were whores."

"And what am I? Asking my husband's brother to fuck me so I can experience motherhood. Am I any different?"

Ryo stands up from the couch and walks toward you, making you take a step back. He's huge now. So much taller and bigger than he was before. You're up against the wall, sandwiched between the wood and his chest. "Ryo, please." You breathe, looking away.

"Do I still scare you, woman?"

You shake your head, refusing to give him the last laugh.

"Even when I look like this?"

Your eyes fly open, meeting his. All four of his eyes are on you, expectant and vulnerable. He needs you. You reach out to touch his face, the human side, and he leans into it like a cat. "Ryo," You call out to him. All your anger melts when he closes all his eyes and relishes in your touch. You place your other hand on his chest, trying to feel the beat of his heart. It's calm, a steady pace. He's at peace in your arms.

"What am I to you?" Ryo asks. For a brief moment, he looks like a boy again, wanting to know if you love him.

"I don't know."

Ryomen smiles wryly before escaping your embrace. He's about to say something but you beat him to it.

"There has not been a single moment in the last five years when you weren't on my mind. I'm cooking and I make it spicier because you prefer it that way. I am sewing and I use your favorite colors. I'm sitting by the pond by myself and I imagine us having a conversation. My husband..." You choke up. "My husband is making love to me and I... I see your face. You... you left me. I played our last conversation over and over in my head, trying to untangle the web of your riddles but I couldn't." You rub off the tears streaming down your face. "You left me here and Yuuji was like my wooden plank in open ocean. I had to... even though it was so wrong... even though —"

Ryo cups your face in two of his hands, pausing your downpour of thoughts. "If I stall any longer, I'll never do it."

Before you can say anything else, his lips find yours. His two lower arms pull you into his body as he kisses you. You knew there will be no tenderness with Ryomen but this passion is abundant and unbound. His big, strong hands squeeze your sides as they run up and down your torso with frenzied lust. You throw your arms around his neck, keeping him close.

He lifts you up in his arms as he keeps kissing you, his mouth hot and demanding, and carries you over to the bed. "Get these off, woman." He pulls at the ties of your top robe. "Jūnihitoe was a bad idea"

You chuckle at his child-like impatience. But can you really blame him? You're itching too to touch him, to have him touch you, claim you. Oh it's so wrong! It's so unfair to Yuuji.

But Yuuji is the last thing on your mind right now.

Robe by robe, layer by layer, you come undone to the lover you thought you were never meant to have. Here he is, undressing you, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your neck, and all you can do is... let him.

You can swear you see his jaws drop open once you're completely naked. "Don't stare," You tease, your cheeks burning. "It's not the first time you're seeing a woman."

"They were whores. You are..." Ryo hesitates. "You are you."

"Wow, you're so efficient at communicating what I mean to you." You smirk.

"Stop being bratty, woman." His human eyes are trying their hardest to intimidate you while the demon eyes are too busy ogling your chest to care.

You lie down and Ryo follows beside you. He cradles your head, his fingers nestling in your hair as he kisses you again. Your deft fingers find their way to the sash of his robe, pulling it apart, immediately navigating their way over his skin, around the inhuman mouth.

"Goodness," You yelp when you feel something wet glide past your hand.

"Oh, it has a mind of its own. I can't really control it." Ryo makes an excuse. "But, it seems as though it likes you."

"That was surely a demonstration of affection."

You both laugh, easing up the tension and unfortunately, the built up desire. Ryomen lies down on his back with you on one of his arms. His robe falls apart, exposing his chest. You extend a hand to touch him. Drawing circles through his scanty hair, you pull yourself closer to him.

Before he can say anything, you put your hand over his mouth, still damp from your kiss. "Can you, for once, put yourself before your brother? For me?"

You sit up, flinging one leg over his hips. Ryo runs his fingers over your thighs as you settle yourself. You take two of his hands and guide them to your chest. "You've grown, woman," he groans.

"What does that mean?"

He sits up, pulling you closer so your forehead touches his. "It means, I've craved your breathy moans, the harshness of your nails on my back, the sweet taste of your sweat on my tongue. I used to watch you walk back to the house after your bath, your chest heaving with every step." He kneads your flesh, making you gasp as he softly tugs at a nipple. "In winters, like an old creep, I used to lecherously stare at the pert points on the front of your robe, imagining my hands over them... and my mouth." He snuggles his nose against your jaw and kisses it before venturing southward. Locking his human eyes with you, he opens his mouth wide and closes his lips around your bud.

His tongue sends jolts of sensation down your spine. You grasp at his hair, pushing your teat further into his mouth. Two of his hands grope the soft flesh of your behind, squeeze the fat on your hips, glide over your thighs, before one of his fingers finds the core of your pleasure.

"So wet, woman," he mumbles against your nipple. "Almost like you've been waiting all your life for me."

"I have." Your eyes water as he draws circles around your clitoris, slow, drawn out, painfully patient circles. "You're such a tease, Ryo. Why don't you just... take me?"

"And what's the fun in that? Let me utilize every moment I have with you." He kisses you again. "What if this is all we have?"

The heart that was warm and gleeful, breaks again. You look into Ryomen's eyes, only to find a mirror that reflects your feelings. This time, you kiss him. Fervently. Maniacally. You push his back to the the bed again, slowly sliding down his torso to meet his lips. What you don't expect is a tongue on your clit, the tongue on Ryo's stomach.

You sit up, perplexed at the onslaught of pleasure but unable to lift yourself off of the demonic mouth. Ryo encourages you. "You look so good like that, woman. That's right, grind your hips against my mouth. Your pleasure gives me pleasure. Are you coming?"

You nod, unable to form words anymore.

"Keep going, woman. You're doing so good. Come for me. Come for me."

This orgasm leaves a permanent mark on your psyche and also on Ryo's abdomen. Your nails have gone as far into his skin as they could, drawing blood.

Without a moment of respite, Ryo flips you over on the bed. Your giggling stops when his strong arm pulls your waist up to put a cushion under it. "You wanted me to take you, didn't you?" He rasps, bending over you, so close that his belly mouth springs out and starts licking your back. "Talk to me. Tell me what you want."

"I want you inside me." You finally voice your lewd thoughts. "I want you to give me a child, Ryo. Even if I have to raise it with Yuuji, I want you and myself to know who the father really is."

"Fuck," Ryomen groans.

You cry out as he pushes in, your delicate skin threatening to break around his girth. As soon as you accommodate yourself to his length, he starts rocking his hips. His grip is strong on the plump flesh of your hips as his nails dig in to keep you in place. You can feel him, throbbing, his fat tip pulsating against your womb, ready to breed you on command.

"You feel so good, woman." He's moaning too. Your name on his lips sounds like exactly how it was supposed to be pronounced when your mother named you. His hands are traveling up and down your back, grabbing, squeezing, groping your flesh. "If you so badly want a child... I'll give you one. More. As. Many. As. You. Want." He thrusts with every word until his grip on you tightens to the point of bruises.

You've lost count of how many orgasms you've had but when Ryo comes, you feel fulfilled. You're so filled with his warmth, you don't realize when you collapse on the bed, when Ryo's hand scoops you close to his chest. "You did good, woman. I'm sure this union will be fruitful," he whispers with his mouth to your forehead as you drift to a well-earned sleep.

𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸𓆸

There's no God in my heaven. And Hell belongs to me. King of Curses, they call me. And what I have done to earn that title is between me and the sorcerers I killed. For what, then, am I being rewarded?

My Heaven is in my arms, warm and breathing, probably sore in all the places I touched her tonight. How dare I? How dare I ruin her, maim her unfit to ever love her husband again?

Maybe, if everything had gone right, I would have been her husband. And if my human form was not crippled the same way my brother is, she'd have already become a mother by now. I know of her doubts of being the one crippled, but I know she's fertile. I know she's fertile right now. And I hope I've done one thing in all my life to make her dreams come true.

However, it's also so bittersweet. What will happen once she does bear my child? Our little tea meetings will end, I'll never touch her again, never experience both the peace and the excitement of having her fingers run along my skin.

I don't want this to end. I can't let this end. I can't lose her again.

please don't copy my work, or publish it elsewhere without my consent. all banners are from pinterest.

[whygalaxy]

Poor bunny in a golden cage

♡⃕ Relationship} Yandere! Abusive! C!Quackity x Bunny Hybrid! Fem! Reader

♡⃕ Summary} "Quackity was obsessed with you. Your greedy parents beat you to him… What could go wrong?"

♡⃕ TW.} Abusive relationship; Mention of abuse (Physical and Psychological); Non Con explicit; Choking; Sadism; threats; Your parents being jerks; Quackity being extremely abusive; False imprisonment; Mention of stalker; possessive; Dacryphilia; Rough sex; dumbfication; Mild Stockholm syndrome; Mild Size Kink.

♡⃕ Notes} English is not my first language, there may be mistakes. I'm sorry for anything. Not reviewed (Please, it's two in the morning)

This fanfic may not be suitable for sensitive people

You and your parents, a small family of hybrid bunnys, move to Las Nevadas, hoping to find a better living condition. Your parents were constantly arguing recently, as they were poor and wanted to find a new way to earn money.

You sold some carrot cupcakes that you made, in the poorest part of Luxurious City, but it didn't bring in as much profit as your parents would have liked - “300 Dollars a month is a pittance! You can’t buy anything!” Your father screamed, invalidating all your efforts.

୭  🩹 ✧ ˚.  ᵎᵎ  🩸

It was a silent night, and you were here, trying to sell at least half of your carrot cupcakes. You could hear some laughter in the distance, you look around, finding two silhouettes walking towards you.

They keep walking, walking straight past you. "Hang on!" You shout. The men turn to look at you, they were both wearing luxurious clothes, they didn't look like they were from here… The man with long black hair caught your attention.

“W-Wouldn’t you guys.. want to buy a carrot cupcake?… it’s only 10 dollars…” You stutter shyly, looking down, your ears flat against your head. The smaller one seemed excited, dirty with green goo. He runs to the stall, grabs one and quickly hands over the money. He takes a bite, savoring the flavor - “it’s very good, Mrs. Bunny!” He says, sounding like a child, you laugh, finding him adorable.

You could feel the other man's gaze on you, you look at him from the corner of your eye. He had a strange gleam in his eyes… Almost… Scary…

The small man waves at you, walking away. The taller man looked at you for a moment longer, before turning and walking away, without saying a word.

୭  🩹 ✧ ˚.  ᵎᵎ  🩸

It's been a week since you saw the strange man. Your parents were fighting more and more, and this time, they were cursing you too, saying how useless you were and how you didn't make money for them.

But one day… You come home after a long day of selling cupcakes, your parents were strangely quiet… no fighting…

You see them sitting on the couch, a big smile on their faces. How strange… “Honey! My lovely girl!” Your mother says, getting up to hug you, you thought this was strange, your parents weren't that affectionate… Your father gets up too, hugging you - “You will bring great profit to our family!” he says with an awkward smile.

You were confused, I didn't understand what was happening. What were they referring to? You look at both of them confused - “W-What’s going on?…” You ask, completely confused by the situation.

“The President liked you! Then we sell you for 1.5 million!” His mother screams in joy, making his eyes widen. They… Sold you?! What do you mean, how was that possible? They were your parents, they were supposed to love you, not discard you. You could feel your eyes filling with tears.

“I-I… I can’t accept this… I…” You say, trying to move away. But your parents stop you, they couldn't let your merchandise go out like that. Your mother grabs a glass of water, you were too shaken to notice anything. “Drink, darling.. it will help you” She says, handing you the glass, helping you sit on the couch. You drink, but you feel strangely drowsy, your eyes meeting a black blur, and then you collapse onto the couch.

୭  🩹 ✧ ˚.  ᵎᵎ  🩸

You wake up lying down in a comfortable place, your eyes were still blurry, but they quickly adjusted to the light of the place. You sit up, realizing you were on a bed, you look around the room. It was an extremely luxurious room, with shades of gold and red, your eyes widen and shine at the luxurious place you had never seen before.

The room seemed to have some childish tones, with some pink and white touches scattered throughout the room, the bed was full of stuffed animals, mainly rabbits. You get out of bed, trying to explore the room. But as soon as you stand up and take two steps forward, you fall onto the fluffy rug that surrounded the bed. It felt like something was making it impossible for you to walk freely.

You turn around to look at what had made you fall. Your eyes widened, a chain stuck around your ankle, maybe it was the drugs that were in your drink, but you hadn't noticed it before, and it was pretty tight apparently…

You get up, sit on the bed, staring at the big door that was in front of it, your ears pressed against your head, waiting for something to happen… Suddenly, the door opens, your ears quickly perk up.

Your eyes widened when you saw who it was. It was the strange man from that day… Wait, he was the president of this country? He walks up to you, a smile on his face, highlighting the gold tooth he had. You pull away, bumping into the headboard in the process.

He sits on the bed, next to you. He reaches out to caress your cheek, with a gentle smile on his face - “My little bunny… so adorable… you're mine now” He says, his face getting closer to yours, you could feel his breath.

After your first meeting, Quackity felt strangely attracted to you. A shy, small, adorable little thing. So sweet and submissive…it seemed extremely fun to break you.

Quackity chased you for that week, and the more and more he found out about you… the more obsessed he was.

Now you were in this place, totally trapped with this maniac… you didn't know what he had in store for you, and you were afraid of it.

He pulls you closer, stroking your hair. You could hear him whisper - “So beautiful… So small… So… mine”

୭  🩹 ✧ ˚.  ᵎᵎ  🩸

One month… one month you were with this maniac, and the feeling was the same as being in hell.

Cuts and purple marks spread all over your body, Quackity took out all his anger on you. He would hit you and cut you, just for his sadistic pleasure, he loved seeing you crying and screaming. Watching you break down little by little, only to become an empty mind completely submissive to him.

It was currently almost two in the morning, the ticking clock noise could be heard. You were trying to sleep but you couldn't, you had a feeling something bad was going to happen… You were currently lying in bed, wearing only a Quackity shirt that was much bigger than you.

Suddenly, the door opens, revealing Quackity. His white blouse had the first three buttons open, his tie was untied. You could smell alcohol and cigarettes coming from him.

He walks towards you, crooked steps indicating he was drunk. You look at him, completely scared, not knowing what he could do to you, trying to move away, but the chain on your ankle stopped you from going that far.

He sits on the bed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer to him, your head against his chest. You could feel him smelling your hair - “So sweet…” He whispers in his slightly drunken tone of voice.

You could feel their hands moving over your body. You let out a slight scream when you feel their hands squeezing your ass, you try to move away. He wouldn't do that to you… would he?

He spanks your ass - “Be quiet, be a good girl and accept this. I don’t want to hurt you” His tone of voice was threatening, you were shaking with fear. He pushes you, laying you down on the bed.

He lifts your big shirt that you were wearing, exposing your small breasts, he smiles… You were so cute. He bends down, taking one nipple into his mouth, starting to suck while playing with the other. You moan as his tongue grazes your hard nipple. You scream when you feel him bite your nipple hard, causing tears to run down your eyes.

You could feel him smile, you try to stay quiet, knowing that if you stayed quiet, it would be less worse. He leaves hickey marks on his chest, red and that would probably turn purple later. He forcefully opens your legs, ripping off your panties, clearly out of patience.

He lets out an irritated sigh when he feels that you're not wet for him at all - “I can't believe you're going to make me do this…” He says in a growl. You start to moan softly when you feel his thumb start to rub your clit, and soon one of his fingers enters you, preparing you for his cock.

He was out of patience, trying to finish this as quickly as possible so he could get his cock inside you. One finger soon becomes two, two fingers soon become three. His pace was relentless, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer. You were extremely sensitive, the stimulation on your clit combined with the relentless rhythm of his fingers inside you dragged you closer and closer to your limit.

You scream as you cum, your juices running down his fingers. He smiles, removing his fingers from inside you, taking them to his mouth to taste your juices - “So sweet… So sensitive…” He whispers, starting to take off his clothes. He completely unbuttons his white shirt, the red tie at the sides, he pulls his pants and underwear down. His hard cock springs out, its reddened tip oozing precum.

Your eyes widened, heavens… He was big! He holds your hips tightly, positioning his cock in front of your throbbing entrance. You scream as he thrusts inside you, even though you were prepared, it still hurt.

You cry as he pushes his cock all the way inside you, the tip hitting your cervix. He at least had the decency to wait for you to adjust. But soon he starts moving, his pace is never slow, but strong and fast. Hitting your cervix hard, leaving it bruised.

You screamed with each thrust, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks. You hated yourself for this, hated yourself for enjoying this. You scream too loudly when his tip hits your G-spot, making you cum hard. He laughs, laughs at how pathetic you are.

He reaches out with both hands, his big hands wrap around your small neck, squeezing lightly. You wrap your small hands around his wrist. trying to push him away? or pull him closer? you don't know anymore.

He continued to fuck you hard, making you more and more stupid. His thrusts soon began to become sloppy, indicating that he was getting closer as well. He soon stops brutally, his grip on your neck tightens, leaving you gasping for air, your nails scratching his wrists as he fills you with hot cum.

You cum again, squeezing his cock as your pussy sucks up his cum. He soon lets go of your neck, red handprints around your neck as you start to breathe again. He pulls his soft cock out of you, laying down next to you as he pulls you closer.

He kisses your forehead and lips, smelling your hair - “My bunny… My good girl… My everything… Mine, just mine..." He says breathlessly, hugging you tightly as he started to sleep. You sit there thinking, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be a good girl for him… In this beautiful luxurious room, like a golden cage…

<3

[leviathanspain]

fucked my way up to the top

roman roy x reader

synopsis: the recent shroud of attention towards the roys lands a spotlight on you, causing you to question your marriage

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the public didn’t favor you as a roy wife. you were labeled a gold digger, virtually nobody, a poison, a cancer. it didn’t matter that your own family was rich and prosperous. not as public as the roy family was, but respected in their industry.

you had grown up with roman, for a few brief summers at least. neighboring his summer home with your grandfather’s, you’d find yourself sneaking away at odd hours to visit the sullen boy.

after losing touch, you had reconnected with the youngest roy son at a business conference that you had accompanied your father to. he was impossible to shake off after, and soon you found yourself walking down the aisle.

but your relationship behind closed doors was extremely unconventional. in the year you’ve been married to roman, you never had sex. you came close once, on your wedding night, but nothing else since. you understood him the most, and his issues with intimacy. you’d wait around for him as long as he needed, because you loved him.

you loved him more than anyone else in his life, and he didn’t know why.

roman was still roman, in the best way he knew how to be. he’ll make inappropriate comments at you in professional settings, defending it with “she’s my wife!”, or sticking his hands down your pants whenever he got cold. you never really understood his methods, but it was affection nonetheless.

although you had a history with corporate america, you wouldn’t deny that your marriage to roman had sped up your career. only because roman has insisted that you work alongside him. it was either that or not work at all.

so the media, in the raging shit storm that kendall had started, had picked you and your marriage as the weakest link, attacking you in many headlines. twitter had been worse, causing you a mild headache for weeks.

roman had assured you’d that it would all blow over, that as long as you both knew the truth, that nothing else mattered.

but it did. everything mattered.

“hey ro-“ he had answered your call before the second ring. he sounded breathless, but you could hear the bustling office environment over the phone. there was the sound of leather, assuming he moved to sit.

you looked at yourself in the mirror, giving yourself one last look before walking over to the door, “i just wanted to call and remind you that i’m going out.”

roman made a noise over the phone, “ughhhh- that’s tonight?” he looked at his watch, checking the time, “right. that’s fine, yeah.”

“ro?” you asked, a smile on your face as you heard him hum in response. “i wasn’t asking if it was fine. remember what we talked about?”

roman sighed, rolling his eyes slightly as he leaned back in his chair, “that you’re my wife, not my property…”

you laughed, “when you put it like that it sounds awful. whatever roy, i’ll see you later.” he could hear the clicking of the apartment lock, you were already leaving.

“okay, bye bye now sweetie!” he mocked an elderly lady with his tone before hanging up quickly.

on nights you’d go out with friends, roman wouldn’t go home. he would eventually find his way home around two or three am, but only because you’d call to let him know you were going home. there was no point of being home if you weren’t there.

he had done it once, but there had been a pit in his stomach the entire time. as if he was doing something wrong.

he had heard the apartment door click, and his head turned from the random late night news channel to the door. you were standing there, wavering slightly as you stepped forward.

“baby-“ you slurred, and immediately roman stood up. he walked towards you, and a sheet of concern washed over his face. “i’m sorry baby, i know how much you hate it when i drink.” you grabbed onto roman’s shoulder, hand clutching him as you tried to steady yourself.

roman scoffed, “when did i say that?” his tone turned defensive, but mainly confused.

you shrugged, “i know you do.” you let go of him and stepped towards the couch, “you get in that mood.” you had meant to sit down, but you found yourself on your back instead. you closed your eyes, swallowing thickly, “you pull away.” roman scoffed again, “y/n, im right here.” his hand grazed your face as he leaned over you. he rested on the couch’s edge, but you couldn’t keep your eyes on him.

“no- it’s not like that. everytime i want to,” you faltered, and roman inhaled sharply, “it’s like you shut down. and we’ve danced around it for almost a year and-“ your words slurred slightly but roman had understood you perfectly.

“what do you want me to say? hmm? that i don’t want to fuck you?” he got off the couch and stood up, “do you want a divorce? is that it? since we didn’t fuck you can probably get a good deal out of that, you should go fucking try it!” roman didn’t know where this anger was coming from, but he felt it come out like word vomit. and he couldn’t stop.

tears escaped your eyes and you sniffled, feeling your face heat up with embarrassment. “no- i don’t want a divorce, roman.” you shook your head as you cried, wishing the couch could swallow you up.

roman continued to spit more words at you, but you cried harder. “i just want my husband to touch me! i want to be desired- to be loved!” you shouted, words overtaking his.

“i want you every minute of every day. i wake up with you on my mind, even when you’re asleep next to me i want you. i fucking want you, so bad.” his voice dropped and he stared down at you.

you shifted your eyes over to him, and tried to stand up. roman noticed what you were doing and took your hand, pulling you up.

“have me, roman. have me and never let me go.” your arms draped around his neck, pulling him into you. you leaned into him, and kissed him roughly. roman felt himself hitch a breath before pulling away.

“i cant.” your hands dropped from his collar and you stared, speechless. “i want to, y/n. but i-“

you pushed past him, not letting him finish as you tried to stumble towards the door. “you’re a fucking coward.” you slurred, tears muddling your vision. you fumbled for the door handle, “i never want to see you again! you hear me! i hate you!” you stomped a foot as you struggled more for the door. “fuck!” you cried out, feeling defeat and heartbreak wash over you in an instant.

this feeling was crippling. closing your eyes as you slid down in defeat. you couldn’t fight anymore, you didn’t have it in you. your husband didn’t stay to linger, slipping away quietly.

the separation was taking its toll. it was starting to get noticeable to those around you. you had wished for space from roman, who had hesitated but obliged. his only request was that his family doesn’t know, and so far, they hadn’t.

but little things, questions regarding the other had raised a few flags. kendall had asked about you once, bringing up the question to roman on your whereabouts. roman had lied and said he had just seen you in your office, but kendall knew you weren’t even in the building. or when shiv had texted you to ask if you’d be joining the family to scotland, but you had to play off your absence with a separate work trip. when in reality you had no idea that roman would even leave the country.

shiv knew something was off. she was finding roman more intolerable by the day. he was more disheveled, prone to outbursts, constantly on the defensive, and it definitely had to do with you. you were his happy little pill.

as much as you wanted to keep the secret, roman made it difficult. he rarely ever saw you anymore, and he would often exclude you from meetings regarding family or work. you didn’t mind at first, until it started affecting your work. you’d have to talk to him about it, eventually.

logan had called for a meeting in his office. usually big meetings with all of the roys and close workers meant bad things. typically you’d stay out of these things and find out from roman. but you had no roman to come home to anymore, and you’d have to learn how to fight for yourself sooner rather than later.

you were the third one to arrive. kendall was already perched beside his father. you admired kendall for his ability to resurrect himself and crawl back under his father’s thumb. you respected him, but not lately. greg and tom were also in the room. their little duo was dangerous, you’ve warned roman to watch out for them.

“y/n!” tom stood up from his seat, awkwardly hugging you. you stiffened in his arms and pulled back with an awkward smile, “tom. didn’t know we did that!” your eyes slid to logan and kendall, who seemed as equally as surprised by your presence.

“sir.” you looked at your father-in-law, who’s eyes shone at you, “y/n. what a delightful surprise.” he kept his tone even, but you still smiled nonetheless.

kendall had his wits about him, for once. “what changed?” he squinted his eyes at you and you laughed slightly, “it’s nice to see you too, ken.”

just as you turned, you heard a whistle at the door, “where is everyone? you said at 11:30 right?” roman looked down at his watch before looking up, eyes settling on your face.

you hadn’t expected to see him so face to face, for the first time in weeks. he looked away slightly, cracking another irrelevant joke before walking over to a chair.

he didn’t even greet you, and that didn’t go unnoticed by everyone else. more and more flooded in, and you couldn’t stop the pounding feeling in your head even as the conversation began.

“roman!”

logan’s shout had broken you out of your daze. you blinked, eyes narrowing on the clock as you realized thirty minutes had passed. you had missed most of the meeting, and seemingly caught the end. but this wasn’t just any end, this was logan handing your husband his own ass.

you listened to roman get chewed out. you weren’t in the loop to roman’s work, and you felt lost.

logan’s insults turned into abuse. you felt your mouth go dry as you stood up, words spilling out of your mouth in roman’s defense.

you didn’t know what you had done until it was done. you were locked in a stare with logan, who was in disbelief at your outburst. you felt you face heat up and you inhaled sharply. logan didn’t say anything, but kendall had waved his hands, “alright. let’s just- end it here.” he shifted his gaze over to you but you didn’t meet his eyes.

roman stared at you, from across the room in his chair. you blinked, words faltering as you stared at him.

you didn’t bother apologizing as you excused yourself, practically running down the hall to shut yourself away.

there was a soft knock at your door. roman. it had to be roman. you felt your chest heavy with pressure as you stood up, walking over to your door. you unlocked it, but hesitated as you pulled it open.

“yes?” you peeked out, beads of sweat lining your forehead. your eyes met his and roman stared at you, “let me in.” he nodded to the door and you hitched a breath, opening the door as you stepped back.

“ro-“ without another word you threw yourself into his arms. he grabbed you tightly, reciprocating your need for affection.

“i’m so sorry.” you choked out, “i’m so fucking sorry.” you knew logan had a difficult relationship with his son, and this didn’t help any of it. logan must hate you now.

roman shook his head, “fuck that. fuck that old ass guy. it’s okay, you-“ he pulled back and you felt his lips on your cheek, “you know i would’ve done that for you.”

you hugged him tightly, and hoped this warmth would last.

[alisonwritesimagines]

Different ~Simon Riley Imagine~

Summary: You and Simon stay connected for the sake of your son. But events eventually lead you two back together in a way you both didn't expect.

Author’s Note: I've had this in my drafts and I was debating if I should release it or not. So I decided to free it from the drafts.

Based on the song Different by Joshua Bassett

Part One

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: character deaths, spoilers for Modern Warfare 3

Do not repost this anywhere!

Simon wishes he could hate Mitch. In a messed up way he desperately wants to hate him. But he can’t.

He’s a perfect step father to his son and an amazing father to your daughters, he’s the perfect husband, and he’s able to be home with you without making you worry if he was going to come back dead or alive. Mitch is what Simon wishes he was for you.

Ever since Simon found out about his son, he wanted to get to know him. He didn’t never wanted to be like his father. He wanted to be better. So whenever he had the chance, Simon would go see his son.

“Did you see that soccer game the other day?” Mitch asked Simon.

“You mean football?”

“Right right. I forget you Brits call it football.”

“Makes more sense doesn’t it?” Simon asked.

“I guess in a sense.”

It was Levi’s birthday and Simon and Johnny came over to America to visit and celebrate. Levi was officially 8 years old and was now an older brother to two sisters.

“When do you guys plan on coming to visit again?” Simon asked.

“We’re thinking the summer. Might take the kids to Disneyland Paris this time too,” Mitch tells him.

“They’ll enjoy that.”

“How are you and Johnny?” Mitch asked him. The best thing about Mitch, he was never the one to judge. Sure he was upset at Simon for cheating on you but you had told Mitch that you had forgiven Simon and Mitch trusts your judgement.

“Good. Good.”

“Okay boys. I am in need to help now,” you say as you carried your youngest.

“I got her babe,” Mitch said before putting his drink down and taking his youngest daughter in his arms. “You can hang out with me and Uncle Simon.”

“Thank you darling,” you say before giving him a quick kiss.

It always stung in Simon’s heart when you kissed Mitch. It’s selfish of him to think this way but there was always a part of him that wanted you back even after all this time. It was wrong to think this way but he knew he would always love you. Even if he did love Johnny.

After the party, Simon and Johnny helped you and Mitch clean up.

“You know you guys don’t have to stay behind to help clean right?” You asked.

“You did more than enough for today and with planning all this. Go relax,” Simon tells you.

“But-“

“We got this Bonnie. It’s the least we can do for you,” Johnny tells you. You let out a sigh in defeat before walking over to your daughters.

“Okay girls! Bath time,” you say. You picked up your two girls before walking upstairs to get them cleaned. Simon watched with a sad smile as you kissed the top of your daughters’ heads.

—

Simon came straight to you after the worst mission he had ever been on.

You gave Simon a hug the moment he told you the news. Johnny was gone. Killed in action. The last time you saw him heartbroken was when you found out about him and Johnny and you had called him Ghost.

“Anything we can do for you?” You asked him.

“I just need something to distract myself,” Simon tells you.

“Levi has a soccer game tomorrow if you want to join us,” you tell him.

“Yes please.”

“How long have you been grieving?”

“I think long enough.”

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head.

“What-“

“You loved him Simon. It’s okay to be in grief for a long time,” you tell him. Simon hugged you again, not wanting to let you go.

“Thank you.”

“I’m here for you.”

—

Soon, it was Simon’s turn to comfort you. You had lost Mitch in a car accident when he was coming back from work one night. Simon made sure the kids were fed and taken care of while trying to help keep you fed and alive.

“I’m here for you love. I always will be,” Simon tells you. You cried into his chest, passing out from exhaustion on the couch in his arms only an hour later.

Simon was no longer in SAS but he did help with training new recruits after capturing and killing Makrov. Not as dangerous as before but he still had a steady job and was able to take care of you and the kids.

“What if we go out tomorrow night?” Simon asked you one night. It had been five months since he had been helping you with your kids.

“What do you mean?” You asked as you were cleaning up your kitchen.

“Just you and me. We can go see a movie or grab dinner together?” Simon suggested.

“Would this be a date?” You asked him with a look.

“No. More of a hang out,” Simon tells you.

“Okay,” you say unconvinced.

“I don’t want to force you into anything. I’m letting things go slow,” Simon tells you. You nodded before beginning to do the dishes.

-

Levi had reached the age where he was finally old enough to know that Simon was his biological father. You and Simon had sat Levi at the table before telling him the news.

“Do you have any questions for us?” You asked Levi as you sat across from him.

“Why did you leave him?” Levi asked you as he glared at Simon.

“Because he fell in love with someone else.”

“And why are you with him now? Aren’t you afraid he’ll hurt you again? This is bullshit,” Levi said angrily.

“Language,” you warn.

“So you hurt her, let her marry someone else, and once he’s gone you just think you can come back into her life like that?” Levi yelled at Simon who had been silent since the conversation started. He knew that Levi would be mad at him. He knew Levi would be angry. And he didn’t mine because he knew that this would be upsetting.

“Levi, I know I hurt her. I should have never hurt her but I did. We’re going through couples therapy together and it’s been helping us. Your mother has forgiven me enough for me to be back into her life,” Simon explains to him.

“What do I even call you now? My dad is dead and my whole life I’ve only seen you as Uncle Simon. Do you expect me to call you dad now?” Levi asked, still angry at the news.

“You can call me whatever makes you comfortable right now. I don’t expect you or your sisters to accept me now but I am here for you three and your mother,” Simon tells him.

Levi shook his head before getting up and heading towards his room. You looked at Simon with a sad look.

“Do you think we did the right thing?” You asked.

“Yes. He’s old enough now and he just needs to get use to it. It’s better to tell him now than later,” Simon tells you. You nodded before looking at a picture of the wall with you and Mitch.

“I wonder what it would’ve been like if Mitch was still around.”

“Could be the same reaction,” Simon tells you before placing his hand on yours.

—

The girls loved Simon on the other hand. They loved it whenever he caved into their games and how he would let them put makeup or nail polish on him. Mitch took care of Levi and now, Simon was returning the favor in protecting and caring for Mitch’s daughters.

“Uncle Simon?” Your youngest asked Simon one day.

“Yes?”

“How come I can’t see my daddy anymore?” Macy asked him.

“You’ll be able to see him again. Just not now. He’s somewhere where we can’t touch or see but one day in the long future, you’ll see him again,” Simon told her.

He loved the girls. He would protect them no matter what and was always weak whenever they would give him puppy eyes when you say no to them. Simon knew they weren't his daughters, but he can be the best father figure they needed as they grew up.

“Will you ever leave us?” Macy asked him.

“No. Not unless you tell me to leave you,” Simon tells her.

“I don’t want you to leave us,” Macy said as she hugged him.

“Then I won’t leave,” Simon said, hugging her back.

—

Simon had waited this for a long time. To see you in a white dress, walking to him, and saying your vows together. Even if it was in a courtroom with just your kids, your parents, Price, Laswell, and Gaz to witness you two. It was perfect for him.

So here you two are, having dinner with everyone at your favorite restaurant with close friends and family who you wanted at the reception. Neither you or Simon cared for a big fancy wedding. You had already gotten your dream wedding with Mitch and Simon wanted to keep things lowkey. So you both agreed for a courthouse wedding then dinner at your favorite place.

“Proud of you,” Price told Simon as he patted his back. The two were drinking a beer as you talked to Laswell and Gaz.

“Thanks.”

“I know Johnny would’ve been happy for you too.”

“He would’ve enjoyed this,” Simon added.

“She’s a good woman, Simon. Make sure you keep her this time.”

“I will.”

“Hey. Um dad?” Levi asked Simon awkwardly. Levi still had conflicted feelings in called Simon dad after calling him Uncle Simon for so long. But he eventually accepted the fact that Simon was his biological father.

“Yeah kid?”

“Mom wants to know if you wanna do the cake now,” Levi asked.

“Tell her yes. We can do the cake,” Simon told his son. Levi nodded before going back to you.

Simon walked over to you before wrapping his arms around your waist. Your mom brought out the cake for you two before she took a couple pictures of you both and then with you two and the kids.

"To Mr. and Mrs. Riley. We wish you two nothing but happiness," John said as he raised his drink.

"Thank you all for being here with us," you say before you and Simon cut the cake for everyone.

After your reception, your parents took the kids to watch them over the weekend while you and Simon got to enjoy the honeymoon. Simon and you slow danced in the hotel's garden. The staff didn't want to interrupt you both as you both had a moment alone together.

"Thank you for giving me a second chance," Simon says to you.

"I'm surprised you waited for me."

"You're the only person I'd ever wait for."

"Do you think they're happy for us?" You asked Simon.

"Knowing them, I'm sure Mitch and Johnny would've wanted us happy and safe. No matter what," Simon tells you. You smiled softly up at him before giving him a gentle kiss.

You rested your head on him as you both continued to dance to the music from your phone.

[bldngiris]

꒰OKLAHOMA SMOKESHOW ꒱ . . . d winston !

pairing(s) : book! dallas winston x fem!soc! reader

in which y/n dreams of escaping tulsa but her dad is holding her back. however dallas winston listens and yearns.

requested : yes or no.

!! content warnings : yelling, swearing, r's father is an ass, r is a soc but she doesn't like being one, discrimination. movie dallas used only for visuals even though i used blonde book dallas in mind!! mentions of religion, angst

robin chirps : happy easter!! this fic is inspired by oklahoma smokeshow by zach bryan :) bold is the song lyrics!

go on and put on that dress that all the bad boys like.

y/n stood in front of her full-length mirror and took a look at herself one last time before heading out the door. if her father had caught her wearing anything other than appropriate soc attire, she would be done for. the amount of times she had been hit on by cocky high class boys who just wanted to get into her pants was numerous, alas her father didn't care. "you don't want to look like one of those greasy balls of garbage do you?" he would ask her. truth was y/n didn't want to be a soc. sh didn't want to be a greaser either. she wanted to escape tulsa and live in a city without labels and get away from all the hostility stored away in the streets of tulsa.

i know your daddy ain't home so ride with me tonight. you always wind up here in a puddle of tears

y/n had made her way to the diner with her friends. however, her "friends" had left her midway through the walk home to go hang out with a group of other socs. it had started to rain and the closest place y/n could go to was bucks. y/ns feet subconsciously made their way to the building lit by neon beer signs, ignoring the voice in the back of her head saying, "if i catch you 'round one of them greaser places.."

she slowly opened the door to the place, as a mixture of tears, mascara and raindrops ran down her face, her hair sticking to her face, her dress drenched. many eyes were on her as barely, if any, socs came to bucks. whispers, some louder than others presumably by drunk men were heard as y/n sat on one of the bar stools.

them boys are out and they're angry and they're lookin' for blood In the back of a blue old pick up truck. you've got nowhere to go although you're all gussied up

y/n sat at the barstool, a shaggy, pale, blonde boy sat beside her, a malboro cigarette hanging out of his mouth loosely.

"hey man, what're you doin' out here?" he asked the soc, curiously, in a sluggish tone of voice. y/n sniffled.

"my friends left me when we were at the diner, n' i didn't wanna get jumped, it's dangerous walkin' home by myself, y'know." she sniffled again. "plus, it's cold and wet." she paused again. dallas listened, as he hummed and nodded, understanding what she was talking about.

there's so much whiskey in his coke it'll make her nose bend

"that really sucks man," he muttered taking a sip of his whiskey and coke, y/n could smell the drink from her seat. dallas did't turn away or ignore her after that. they spent the next hour talking.

but she swears that his love is a damn god send

don't get me wrong, dallas hated socs. but y/n was different, under the high class, hair done, pretty dress facade, she was a normal girl yearning for more than just a privilege title. the two could relate on another level which dallas had appreciated. dallas and y/n both wanted more or less the same thing, both wanted to escape tulsa, but more or less everything was holding them back from doing so.

she's known god since she was a child, she used to play in the yard and she would dream of one day

y/n played in the front yard of her house with a white picket fence. she saw two kids around her age, playing over by a park around the 'border' between the west and east side.

"hi! im y/n can i play with you?" she asked the three children. they were greaser children, as seen by the difference in their appearance.

'til the world came around and took her dreaming away. told her how to dress and act and smile.

"sure! im soda, thats johnny and that one over there is steve" one said. soon enough, y/n's father had come out of the house, soon following a burst of yelling came about. "y/n get over here and away from that white trash." he exclaimed. y/n wondered, how could a grown adult be so hostile toward children? y/ns father grabbed the little girls hand and took her back over to the freshly painted house on the block.

'y/n, sweetie, you know better than to talk to those type of people." he told her. "now, im sure mrs. sheldon and mrs. valances children would love to play with you hm?" he said. the little girl with pigtails and turned around to watch the greaser kids looking at her sadly, eventually cheering themselves up and laughing softly as they played on the monkey bars.

she's an oklahoma smokeshow. he's an asshole from back home. she'll never make it out alive.

that night, at bucks dallas and y/n talked for hours. y/n told dallas about her image and how she was forced by her father to keep up the good girl act, how every soc guy just wanted to get in her pants and how she's never going to make it out alive.

dallas told her about how he grew up in the streets of brooklyn, new york because his asshole father didn't give a shit about him. his mother and grandmother didn't have enough to provide, because his dad kept taking the profit to the bottle. he ended up in juvi by the time he was ten for theft, trying to provide for his family until he just left and ended up here in tulsa.

that small town bar scene, where small vices kill your big dreams. he'd take you home but he's too drunk to drive.

"but my dad will never let me leave, not until i'm 21 at least, and if i do, he'll list me as a runaway to the police and they'll come and find me." she muttered, solemnly. it was nearly midnight now. dallas way to intoxicated to drive. y/n had used bucks landline to call a cab as she made her way home, thinking of the boy who had changed her life in a mere few hours.

well, I've been here, I've been up all night. thinkin' 'bout a life with you and i. one you'll never know 'cause you're a small town smokeshow.

dallas layed there, head empty except for the thought of y/n. it was nearly 3 in the morning at this point, but all he could think about was the girl who he had just met but felt like they had known each other for years and there he continued dreaming, because unfortunately for him only one of the two got their 'escape' from the prejudice of tulsa, oklahoma. unfortunately, it wasn't y/n. unfortunately, it wasn't the way either of them planned.