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just-some-random-blogger · 29 days ago

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Tormented Spirit | 8

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 3k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (piv, morning sex, come marking?, cock warming) DOWN BAD!DAEMON, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: this chapter became 6k+ words so i had to split it T_T. at least that means i'll be updating relatively faster lol. i hope you enjoy since all the fluff is here HAHAHAH and if you do, please leave a comment/reblog to let me know <3 <3 <3. once again, the high valyrian is internet translated, so it might be wrong. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching

Otto nods as he passes a group of clergy members. He makes his way down the otherwise empty temple, eyes forward as he clutches a firm figurine in his hand. He grunts as he gets down on his knees in front of a fresco of the seven pointed star.

He lights three candles in front of him, saying three different names each time. He places the figurine he brought with him beside them. Of course, it wasn't a figurine but a woolen doll. He says another name, your name, then starts this prayers.

"Father, guard my family through this trying time, my son, my daughters... my daughter," he brushes the face of the doll then closes his eyes. "Stranger, put the souls of the departed Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon to rest.

"Warrior, strengthen my daughter and spare her and her unborn child from succumbing the same fate. Mother, grant her comfort and good health through her journey to motherhood. Crone, guide her and grant her good discernment, so that she may not fear the unknown. Maiden, preserve her beauty, her light."

He opens his eyes and stares at the point that represented the Smith. He grits his teeth before sighing in defeat, "Smith, fortifier... mender... I beg," he sighs, "mend her heart. Mend her body. I beseech you. Let not my prayer fall deaf on your ears any longer."

The candlelight before him glows as he waits another day for the answer to his decade old prayer.

Meanwhile, the candles in your room have long been put out, including the one you normally keep lit by your bed. You are first to rouse today, and yet you could not rise from bed, as you were pressed beneath the body of your husband. Daemon sighed contentedly on your chest, one arm and leg draped over you. You have never slept together (or so you think) so you figured that Daemon probably moved a lot in his sleep, which is how you both ended up in this position.

You stare at the top of his head, continuing to brush through his silver hair. In truth, you did not want to rise. You wanted to stay in this peace, in this stillness. It would not last long, you knew it— you dreaded it.

Goosebumps form on your skin when you feel your husband's hand brush over your belly before hooking on to your hip. You begin to feel your heart race as you remember what your father told you the night before.

How could you tell him? How could you possibly tell Daemon that you were with child, when you knew he was so diligent in assuring you would not be? Was it even possible to carry his seed when he never finished inside you?

Against yourself, you remember the day you caught Gwayne kissing a lady behind a curtain, and how you attacked him because you thought he had gotten her pregnant. The poor girl ran away as you beat your twin, and Gwyane defended himself, saying that's not how you do it. You did not know any better, so you told him you did not believe him and nearly forced him to go to your father to announce you would be marrying the lady. He, in turn had to explain what he knew, to both your horror.

You were no fool to simply believe the words of your stupid twin, so you made it your mission to find out the truth. After sneaking books from the Citadel itself, you read many a book only to find out your twin was telling you the truth.

That was why dread rippled across your skin, for could there ever be a world where Daemon purposefully pulled out and is not angered by this news, where he does not accuse you of infidelity?

You go between worry and peace as you brush your fingers across the prince's skin. You try to convince yourself that all will be well, but each time you do, another part of your mind raises that nothing's ever been well with you. You decide then, even if just for this moment, you will pretend the calmness of your husband will remain.

But the world is cruel, for at this same moment, Daemon awakens.

He stirs with a groan, face rubbing against your sternum. The robe you had on was no longer covering your chest. Your heart races as he looks up at you, his violet eyes still sleepy, "sȳz ñāqes."

You do not understand, but you assume it means good morning, and so you say, "good morning."

Daemon sighs as he pushes himself up, removing his pants. You tense as he comes atop you and kisses your neck. He nudges your head to the side with his own and soon, he pushes your legs apart with his knees.

Your hands come to his hip bones, where you then dig your nails in, making him groan. You whimper when you feel him grind his groin into yours. He is half-hard.

"Sesīr isse ñuha ēdrugon, jaelan ao." Even in my sleep, I want you.

You whimper yet again when he begins to rock against you, digging your nails deeper into him.

"Gīda ilagon," he mutters as he fully parts your robe, repeating in common tongue, "calm down."

You are taken aback by how he pecks your lips once before kissing your neck again.

"Dreamt about fucking your pretty cunny," he mutters lowly between kisses, "wanna make it real."

His words make you ache and throb. In a way, you were comforted by the thought Daemon wanted you, even if it was just your body. You close your eyes and let yourself relax. You sigh against his ear, nuzzling into his shoulder, and brush your hand up his back. As your hands trail to his biceps, his skin breaks out with gooseflesh and a high pitched whimper leaves his lips.

"Fuuuuuuck," he whines out rather pathetically.

There is a languidness to his movements unlike you've ever experienced. His normally brash and pointed demeanor is soft and gentle, his kisses even more so. There is no sense of urgency whatsoever as he rolls his hips against you. If you didn't know any better, you would have believed that he wanted to savor the moment.

He did. He wanted to savor your body, as dreaming of it had him feeling some indistinguishable way. You would never know this though, for he would never tell you.

By the time you've become shaky and your cunt was absolutely sopping wet because of Daemon's now fully hard cock rubbing up against it, he finally pushes into you, drawing out a deep groan from your throat. You tighten your legs and arms around him and your teeth sink into his shoulder.

Daemon grips your thighs as he thrusts into you. He barely pulls out, seemingly determined to go deeper and deeper each time, wanting— needing to be pressed flush into you. His hands sneak beneath you, fingers raking up your shoulder blades to your nape before tangling into your brown hair. He breathes heavily against your ear as your bodies grow hotter and hotter.

You both remain in this snug position, doing this constricted dance until your bellies begin to burn. He doesn't speed up at all or pull out any more than he already has. You feel your body begin to tense and your climax begin to build, and then, just then, a spirit overcomes Daemon.

The next moment, he has his hand on your jaw, forcing your head back. Just as you reach your peak, he pulls out and thrusts his wet cock on your slick folds, once, twice, until his hard member is soft and twitching. His load shoots out up to your chest and sputters down on your belly, garnering a surprised gasp from you. It's hot and viscous against your skin and you wonder what it would have felt like had he released in you. There's so much of it too.

"Fuck, fuck, fu-" Daemon repeats, thinking the exact same thing you were.

You expect him to roll over, because there is no way he wouldn't after soiling you, but you gasp yet again as he comes crashing down on you, skin sticking with a squelch.

He is arrested by your warmth and wants nothing but to plunge into you again. So, in his greed, he grabs his still twitching cock and pushes it into you, releasing a long and throaty groan as he does so. It makes you tremble and whimper his name. You were not expecting the intrusion, so you brush your cheek against his, hoping he understands to give you a moment of repose before going again.

After a while, though you still felt tender from your orgasm, you brush your cheek against him once more, signaling you were ready for him again.

He does the strangest thing however, and simply brushes his cheek back. He pulls his head back, looking down at you, "litse riña." Pretty girl.

You notice the softness of his violet eyes and knit your brows at it. He is so overwhelming you cannot help but kiss him. There was still remnants of morning breath in your mouths, but neither of you cared.

Daemon is loathe to have you pull away. He leans into your touch as you brush his unruly hair back. You slowly shake your head, "I do not understand, my prince."

"iksā sīr rāpa se bāne," you are so soft and warm. He brushes your noses together, "ñuha ābrazȳrys," my wife.

A line forms between your brows at the foreign tongue. You wait for him to translate as he brings his hand to your cheek. He stares at you for a long moment, thumb brushing your skin.

He makes no attempt to decode the High Valyrian for you, and soon, a knock comes upon your door.

Daemon is instantly irritated as he glares over his shoulder, muttering, "who the fuck is that?"

"My servants. I-"

Before you could even finish, your two servant girls are waking in, and Daemon watches them as they head for your bathroom, horribly and painfully unaware of him. He waits for them to reemerge, and the moment they do, he is instantly screaming, "FUCK OFF, CUNTS! THE DOOR'S CLOSED FOR A REASON."

You hear their gasps, squeals, and apologies before scurrying off, slamming the door behind them as they did.

Instantly, yet again, Daemon relaxes and nuzzles against your neck.

"D-Daemon," you whisper, sinking your fingers into his long hair, "they normally wake me up at-"

"I don't give a fuck," he quips, tightening his hold on you, "they'll know better now."

You clench your jaw and sigh, making mental note to apologize to your girls for the prince's actions.

You begin to doze off, as does Daemon in all his gluttonous glory. The two of you stay in bed until lunch time, which is far longer than you've ever personally stayed.

Arryk, who had been stationed outside your door for a while now, is concerned by this. He raps at the entrance to your room and calls your name. When he receives no response, he peaks inside and inspects the stillness of it all. Unnerved by the idea you were sleeping in, he thinks the worse and walks in, calling your name again. His breath is forced down his throat when he sees the flash of white hair on the bed. He sees a hand rub down a toned back and he immediately reels back, quiet and as quick as he possibly can.

You wake the second time because of the growling of your stomach. It is loud and painful, so much so, it wakes your husband.

He groans, brushing his nose against you, "hungry?"

You huff, craning your neck to look at him, finding his closed eyes, "clearly, I'm starving."

A rich chuckle rumbles from his chest. He opens his eyes and they twinkle with mischief, "I could feed you something meaty."

Your face contorts, "I do not think you'd want me to bite your cock, my prince."

Daemon laughs, hard enough to fully awaken him. He wheezes, and rolls of your chest, "I did-" sigh, "not say it was-" wheeze, "my cock."

You hum, "oh, of course not. Apologies."

Your sarcasm only maddens him further into amusement.

You take this as a chance to wriggle away from him, and so you do. The semen still on your skin is tepid and pasty as it smears against your chests. Your robe is completely lose as you come to a stand. You decide not to dirty your garment with Daemon's seed by covering yourself, so you head for the bathroom with your robe open.

You gasp at the swiftness of how your are grabbed and pulled back. Your body collides into Daemon's chest. Your care for your satin robe if for naught, because it sticks on his come anyway. Daemon's is hypnotized by your scent. He is quick to brush your hair over shoulder and mumble against your nape, "you wound me with your eagerness to flee me, wife."

His hands come to squeeze your breasts and you whimper as you turn to him. You knit your brows and pout, "that is not true."

"No?" he says a little louder than he ought as his emotions slightly get ahead of him, "are you not running from me this moment?"

You frown and fully face him, having to peel your robe off his chest as you do, "I'm simply going to bathe." You stare at his chest, "you've made a mess of me."

Daemon tilts his head, "not nearly enough, in my opinion."

You find the self-satisfied grin on his face, "you should too bathe with me."

"Mmm, well then," he takes your hand, "bathe we shall."

The water that your servants had brought was now cold, but you both made do with what you had. Daemon is simultaneously unsurprised and taken aback by how you tend to him first, he does not know why. You've bathed him once before, and yet it somehow feels different. You scrub his chest with cloth and inspire him to do the same for you. You lean into his touch as he washes you off, and it makes his stomach roll.

He takes a good look at you, your skin, the marks he left on it, your nose, your knees, your hair, everything, and he cannot believe something so... so immaculate, so resplendent could be borne from a man so detestable.

"You are not your father's daughter," he says so casually.

You look up at him, freezing because of his random sentiment.

"You are the gods promise to me. A woman made to sate my fire."

Your brows knit at his words. You tilt your head and it makes him nearly goes mad. How darling you ask, "I sate your fire?"

He hums and pulls you into him, kissing your arm as he did, "stoke, perhaps, is truer."

Your breath hitches when he brings you to his lap. He sighs as he feels your flesh against his, it wont be long until he's hard all over again. He licks a stripe up your left breast, "I am, in fact, insatiable."

Your heart races and he peppers kisses up your neck. You lean your forehead against his after kissing your lips. You whisper in earnest, "I will try."

Daemon pulls back, hands coming to your neck as he looks at you.

"I will try to sate you."

Fuck. The thought should have made him laugh, but it doesn't. It makes him burn. He cannot say anything, for his mouth seeks yours. He kisses your lips and you two sequentially spend another hour or so turning the water warm as it splashes all over the floor.

You're antsy and eager to feast by the end of it all.

You help each other get dressed, and Daemon finds the way you hastily button his doublet ever-so-endearing. When it's his turn to help, he shushes you and rubs your shoulders before securing your corset from behind, "your food will not fly off the window."

You rub your aching stomach, "I pray it flies into my mouth soon."

He snickers as he finishes tying your laces.

You quickly run towards the vanity and hastily begin to brush your still damp hair.

He watches you bounce your leg and the faintest of smiles graces his lips. He watches your chest begin to rise and fall rather quickly, and soon his brows furrow. He walks up behind you, "aeritta run." Restless thing.

He takes your hand and your jaw, but it is unlike most times he does so. His touch is gentle. He does not force you to hand your brush or look forward, but you do. You look at each other from the mirror; your chest continues to heave.

"Paez ilagon," Daemon enunciates, "say it for me, won't you?"

Your brows furrow in slight confusion. You release a breath, "pez ilegon."

"Paez," he corrects.

"Paez."

"Good," he nods, "ilagon."

"Il... Ilagon."

"Rōvēgrior," Daemon leans in and mumbles against your temple, "excellent. Now..." he kisses your temple, "once more: paez ilagon."

You take a breath, doing your best to mimic his accent, "pa...ez i- ... lagon."

"Arlī," again, he motions with his pointer, "speak confidently."

"Daemon."

"You can do it," he tilts his head at your reflection, "paez ilagon."

You sigh and nod your head, "paez ilagon."

His violet eyes twinkle, "rōvēgrior," excellent, he claps his hands, "spoken like a true Valyrian."

You turn to him, breath hitching at the sight of his smile, "wha-"

Daemon takes your face and makes you turn forward.

You look at his reflection and grip your skirt, fearing you'd upset him. But then he begins to style your hair and butterflies overcome your belly. You try to ignore the thump of your heart by clearing your throat, "what d-does it mean?"

"Paez ilagon is slow down."

"Ahhh," your jaw drops in slight embarrassment, "I see."

Daemon points, "hand me your pin."

You get the hair pin on the vanity and hand it over, "and the other one?"

"Hmm?"

"Ro... roz- rovevegregor."

Daemon tilts his head as he chuckles through his nostrils, a soft smile remaining on his face as he finishes securing your hair in a similar manner he does himself.

You witness all of this and your heart skips a beat.

"Rōvēgrior," he repeats, "try to roll your tongue."

"..."

"Go on."

"RRRRozeofoieve-"

He laughs and takes a hair tie from the table. He quickly does his own hair then takes you by the hand. He ushers you to the door as he continues to chuckle, "we should get you something to eat. You sound ill."

You are hypnotized by his melodic laugh. You don't dare interrupt it, so you whisper under your breath, mostly to yourself, "but what does it mean?"

"Excellent," he says, hearing your whisper. He opens the door for you, "it means excellent, gevie."

You do not notice Arryk as you exit your chambers, "but what about that?"

Daemon does not notice him either, "what?"

"Ge- gevie?"

"Gevie?" he repeats.

You nod.

Arryk bows and greets you, "princess."

You turn to him as he bows again, "my prince."

Daemon does not spare him a glance. Beautiful, it meant, but he instead tells you, "it is a secret."

You do not respond to Daemon, but he does not mind. He is fully content to stare at you. You smile at your ward, taking a second to guess who it is, "good morn, ser. Are you... Erryk?"

Arryk examines you, finally breathing a sigh of relief to know you are unharmed. He is also glad to see you are not dressed in attire that... exposes the good works of your husband. In the same second, he notices your said husband, and how keenly is gaze is set upon your beaming form. He clenches his jaw, "nay, your grace. Neither am I my brother, nor is it morning."

"Oh," you purse your lips, "my apologies, dear Arryk."

Daemon quickly pulled out of his haze, raising a brow at dear Arryk, "you may go."

Arryk turns to him.

"I will keep my wife company today," he says, wasting no more time in idle chatter, taking you by the hand.

You both walk off and you offer Arryk a smile and nod in regard.

Arryk clenches his jaw but forces himself to smile back at you. He is uneasy by the prospect, knowing how fickle and volatile Daemon can become regarding you. He stares at your joined hands as you walk away, deciding to trust the prince for your sake.

#daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon smut #daemon targaryen smut #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen fluff #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon smut #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #daemon angst #daemon targaryen angst #daemon #daemon targeryan #house of the dragon

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girlgenius1111 · 9 months ago

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all of my past i tried to erase it

part 3 of family line tensions are still high between Ingrid and her sister. Mapi tries to keep the peace. Solstråle tries to pretend she's fine. Ingrid tries to pretend she isn't going insane not understanding what is going on. cw: mentions of poor mental health / panic attacks. ingrid is pretty worried about solstråle and whether or not she is safe.

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It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. Mapi bringing her parents to the match shouldn’t have gotten to you the way it did. You didn’t really have an explanation for it, either. You saw Ingrid talking to Mapi’s mom and it felt like everything that had gotten marginally better in the last few days had miraculously disappeared.

You were 8 again, sitting in the office at school, fielding pitying looks from the office ladies. Both of your parents were busy watching one of Ingrid’s matches; at just 16, she was playing for Rosenborg. Your mom was supposed to bring you to watch, too. She’d forgotten.

You were 10 again, lying to the school nurse that your parents hadn’t known you’d hurt your hand. She said it looked broken, and you pretended that you hadn’t asked your mom to take you to the doctor the night before. You pretended your mom hadn’t told you to stop faking injuries when the attention wasn’t on you for one minute.

You were 13 again, sobbing into your pillow, while everyone celebrated just down the hall. Ingrid was leaving to play in Lillestrøm. 5 hours away. She was leaving you behind.

You were 16, having just been dumped by your first girlfriend. You’d come home in tears, and when you told your dad what was wrong, he told you it was for the best, that a girlfriend was just a distraction. He warned you not to bother your sister with this, because she was busy with much more important things in Barcelona.

You were 17, so drunk you could barely speak, walking home on a dark road in the middle of the night because neither of your parents had answered the phone to come and get you from the horrific party you already regretted attending. It was dark, a windy road you were walking along, and if a car came, you weren’t sure your reflexes would be quick enough. You were 17, stumbling over the smooth pavement, the depression you’d been trying to drown in alcohol making a reappearance. You were 17, thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if it all ended there, just like this.

You were 17, standing in the airport with your parents, preparing to board the plane to Spain. You leaned in towards your mother for a hug. She avoided it, pinching your cheek lightly, and reminding your father that they had a dinner reservation to get to. You watched them walk out of the airport from your place in the security line. Your vision was blurred with tears, but you still could tell that they didn’t look back at you once. You were 17, and your mom hadn’t told you she loved you before you moved across the continent.

In a second, all of these memories that you’d fought so hard to keep locked away deep inside your head were flooding out. Tears were pricking your eyes, and you cursed yourself for being so stupid. Ingrid didn’t care. Mapi didn’t care. You weren’t worth caring about. How had you forgotten that? How had you let yourself forget that, after everything?

Ingrid didn’t see your expression change, too busy thanking Mapi’s parents profusely for coming to see her play. Mapi did, though. She watched as you caught sight of your sister talking to her mom, and she watched as you flinched like someone had swung at you. She watched as you slipped out of the crowd, speed walking into the building. Mapi was torn in 2 directions, Ingrid on one side, and you running off the other way. You needed Ingrid, most definitely but Mapi didn’t like the look on your face as you ran off, like all of the emotion had been sucked out of you, and all that was left was exhaustion.

Someone else had noticed your disappearing act, though. Caro stood, staring after you, before her gaze fell to Mapi, raising an eyebrow. The defender nodded, and Caro followed after you, while Mapi turned to her girlfriend. She pulled her away from her parents with an apologetic smile, appreciating that Alexia walked over and picked up the conversation where it had left off.

“Ingrid, vamos,” Mapi whispered urgently. Ingrid looked at her, confused and unmoving.

“What? I was in the middle of a conversation, María,” the Norwegian scolded.

“I know, it’s your Solstråle, though, she’s upset, come on,” Mapi insisted, pulling on Ingrid’s hand, who finally seemed to feel a sense of urgency, and let Mapi lead her into the building.

“Upset? Why? Did something happen?”

“She saw you with my mom and just looked really upset.” Mapi explained. A bit of understanding washed over Ingrid’s face, and now she was the one leading her girlfriend, rushing down the hall and beginning to open door after door in search of you.

Caro, meanwhile, had found you pretty easily. You were on the floor of a room she often came to when she was overwhelmed, although that happened much less these days. You knew Caro, obviously, and she knew you, had known you since you were pretty young. She had a calming presence, and the minute she sat next to you, and extended her hand in your direction, you took it gratefully.

“Mapi is bringing Ingrid.” She told you, but didn’t say anything else. She just sat next to your trembling form and held your hand. It was enough for now, enough until your sister arrived.

And when Ingrid did arrive, it was with a loud bang as she threw the door open, sighing in relief at the sight of you. Though, that relief quickly dissolved back into worry at the state you were in. She quickly took Caro’s place at your side, hesitantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Your sister was surprised when you turned and threw your arms around her neck, crying silently into her shirt.

“Jeg har deg, kjære. Det er greit, du er ok.” She murmured, looking worriedly at the other two women hovering in the doorway of the room. Mapi nodded at her encouragingly, and Ingrid refocused, rubbing a hand slowly up and down your back.

“Thank you,” Mapi muttered to Caro, as they both stepped into the hall to give you some space.

“Of course.” Caro said easily. “She having a hard time?”

“Which one?” Mapi asked wryly. “Yes. It’s… it’s a work in progress.”

“She’s a good kid.” Caro noted, Mapi nodding her head in agreement. “Well, Marta and I are around if either of you need anything.”

“Thank you, Caro. Really.” Mapi said, squeezing the forward’s shoulder. Caro just shrugged like it was no big deal, and headed back out to the pitch. When Mapi reentered the room, you were tucked perfectly into Ingrid’s lap, although you seemed to have calmed down some. Ingrid was speaking to you in hushed Norwegian, and something she said had you lurching away from her and to your feet, stumbling blindly to the door.

“Solstråle, wait,” Ingrid called, not really sure what she said to upset you, but well aware that it had been something. You fell right into Mapi’s arms, and though she looked a little startled, she easily pulled you close.

“Okay, it’s alright. We’re all okay.” She murmured, noticing the rather heartbroken expression on her girlfriend’s face at the fact that you had fled from her right into Mapi’s arms. After a few minutes, you said something quietly that neither girl could hear. “What was that, nena?”

“Can we go ho- back to the house?” You asked, correcting yourself quickly, and pulling away from the comforting embrace Mapi had you in. Ingrid felt like you’d stabbed her, honestly, when you didn’t let yourself call it home. You were stoic again, though, your face void of emotion, wiping roughly at your cheeks to rid them of tears.

“Kjære,” Ingrid said, hating the way you forced all evidence of your breakdown away. You’d been so upset, about something, but now you were acting as though nothing had happened. Your sister would have climbed into your brain if she could’ve, just to understand what was going on in there.

“Let’s go home.” Mapi said easily, shooting her girlfriend a meaningful look. Ingrid wasn’t supposed to push you, she knew that. It was just getting harder and harder to not do so, especially when she could see how much pain you were in. She couldn't understand why you wouldn’t just talk to her, and you couldn’t understand why she was so concerned or why she was so desperate to hear what you were feeling. And considering it was the two of you, the situation was bound to blow up into an argument. It was just a matter of time.

-------

Ingrid knew what was coming before her phone rang, but she still desperately wanted to avoid it. She was quite comfortable at the moment, curled up on top of Mapi in their bed, a show playing softly in the background. Mapi was scratching lightly at Ingrid’s scalp with one hand, and tracing lines over her back with the other. The movements made Ingrid’s entire body relax, which had definitely been Mapi’s goal, but it was all interrupted when her phone went off from next to her.

She sat up off her girlfriend, glancing at the screen, her expression hardening.

“Your mom?” Mapi guessed, pulling Ingrid back down into her when the Norwegian declined the call.

“Yes.”

“You haven’t talked to her since Solstråle’s letter, have you?”

“No.” Ingrid said. “I think I hate her right now.”

Mapi was surprised, only because Ingrid didn’t hate anyone. If there was going to be a person, though, it would be someone who had hurt you. Because Ingrid didn’t like to kill spiders she found in the house, but Mapi knew she would kill a person for you without a second thought. “That’s okay. You can hate her.”

“I miss her.” Ingrid admitted after another minute, her voice cracking. Her forehead was scrunched with sadness, and her hands gripped Mapi’s shirt tight in her hands.

Mapi sighed, wishing she could take Ingrid’s pain away. And yours too, for that matter. “You can miss her too. You can feel whatever you need to feel.”

“No, I can’t, not when Solstråle is so upset,”

“How your sister feels does not limit how you feel. You can be hurt, and sad, and frustrated too. It doesn’t take away from pequeña’s feelings. Just like her feelings don’t take away from yours. You are both upset. That’s alright.” Mapi said confidently. “This isn’t just happening to your sister. It’s happening to you, too, and you can be sad, mi amor. You can cry.”

Ingrid hadn’t even known she’d been about to cry until Mapi said that, but suddenly there were tears running down her face, and she was clutching tightly to the Spaniard underneath her, who did not seem surprised at all at the sudden emotion.

“I know, baby.” Mapi husked, pressing kiss after kiss to the top of Ingrid’s head. She knew Ingrid needed this, and was content to let her cry it out until she heard a sharp breath from the doorway. You were standing just outside the room, frozen and horrified.

“I’m sorry, Ing,” you mumbled, having come in to say goodnight, rather stunned to see your sister so distraught.

Ingrid could only cry harder, now furious with herself for letting you see this, but too upset to do anything but squeeze Mapi’s hand, wordlessly begging for her to do something.

“Ven aqui, nena, it’s alright.” Mapi said, gesturing you over to the bed. You looked skeptical, but you did so anyway, carefully sitting on the bed next to your sister.

“I’m really sorry, Ingrid, I don’t mean to stress you out.” You whispered. You were in a guilty mood, it seemed, not an angry one, and Ingrid felt that somehow, she preferred when you were angry to this.

“Don’t apologize, pequeña. You haven’t done anything wrong. Ingrid is upset, and you’re upset. It’s okay to be upset, and it’s okay to cry.” Sometimes, Mapi felt like she was teaching preschoolers how to identify and express their emotions when she talked to the both of you, though that might be an easier task.

“I’m not upset with you, Solstråle, I am upset with mom, and I am upset with myself. You don’t need to say sorry. Not for having a panic attack, for having a hard time, for any of it.” Ingrid managed then, taking your hand in hers.

“I’m doing my best.” You said. “I know I’m not making it easy, but I promise I’m trying.”

“We know you are. You’re doing so well, nena.” Mapi said enthusiastically, with so much excitement at you saying something remotely positive about yourself that you and Ingrid both cracked smiles.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ingrid asked after a minute. At that, you withdrew, pulling your hand from Ingrid’s and rising from the bed. Both your sister and her girlfriend repressed sighs at your sudden withdrawal.

“No, I’m really tired. I came to say goodnight. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You rushed out, before bolting out of the room at a speed that could barely be considered a walk.

Ingrid sighed once you were out of earshot, settling back into Mapi. “She’s so difficult.”

“She’s stubborn. Like her sister. She’ll come around, just give her time.” Mapi assured her.

Giving you time, though, was a lot harder than it seemed.

-------

Your whole life, you had been encouraged by your parents to be smaller, to take up less space. If you were upset, you should keep it to yourself. If you were angry, you should calm down. You were taught that your needs always came second to everyone else’s. You didn’t like to be vulnerable with people, and you didn’t like to put your emotions on others.

So when you woke up the next day, it was the feeling of intense shame swirling around inside of you. You’d ruined what was an impressive win for your sister, and a nice moment with Mapi’s parents. You’d upset Ingrid, so much so that she had cried about it.

Too much. You were being too much.

You resolved yourself to be happy today. If not happy, content. Mapi and Ingrid probably needed a day off from your ridiculous, all over the place, emotions. So today, you wouldn’t feel. You’d be perfect, you’d be small, and you’d cause as little trouble as possible.

What you didn’t expect, though, was for that to be the opposite of what Mapi and Ingrid wanted from you. They didn’t care if you took up space. They just wanted you to talk. More than anything, they just wanted you to be okay, no matter how inconvenient that process was for them.

It was a day off for both girls, due to the match the day before, and they were able to let you sleep in. Ingrid was worried you were sleeping too much, but Mapi assured her that angsty teens always needed a lot of sleep, and depressed teens going through a rough time needed even more sleep. Pair that with the intense panic attack you’d had the day before, you were bound to be exhausted.

When noon rolled around, though, and you’d yet to make an appearance, Mapi relented, much to Ingrid’s relief, who had half a mind to check you for a pulse. Mapi made a coffee to bring up to you, opening your door quietly to find you out cold under the covers.

With Snø clutched tightly in your arms, your nose pressed against the soft polar bear, you looked so young.

“Pequeña, despierta,” Mapi murmured, sitting on the edge of your bed and pulling the covers away from your face a bit.

You blinked up at her groggily, an adorably sleepy expression on your face, and Mapi couldn’t help but push some hair out of your face and smile down at you. You looked slightly suspicious, as you couldn’t remember being woken up like this in the entire time living in Spain, but Mapi just handed you your coffee, and settled on the edge of your bed.

“Morning,” you said after a minute and a rather large sip of coffee.

“Afternoon.” Mapi corrected, a little confused when your face turned red at the comment. “It’s 12:15.”

“That’s weird. Normally Ingrid comes to make sure I’m breathing if I sleep past 10.” You noted.

Mapi chuckled. “We’re working on some of your sister’s annoying habits.”

“Don’t get rid of too many, or there won’t be anything left.” You said, your lips tugging up into a smirk.

“Okay! I will just go through this chocolate croissant I made for you in the garbage!” Ingrid scoffed from the doorway, turning on her heel and marching back down the stairs.

If there was any surefire way to get you out of bed, it was to present you with a breakfast pastry.

Within 90 seconds, you had kicked Mapi out, thrown some clothes on and bounded down the stairs, in search of the promised croissant. It was sitting on a plate at the counter, waiting for you, next to your sister who was glaring at you slightly.

“Thank you, Ing,” you said sweetly, throwing her a charming smile. She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless.

You hit Mapi’s hand playfully when she reached for your croissant, and she withdrew it with a laugh. “You’re like breakfast pastries the way Ingrid is about coffee.”

“Reasonable? Reasonably attached to it? Is that what you mean, María?” Ingrid asked with a frown.

“Of course, mi amor.” Mapi said with a smile, kissing Ingrid’s cheek softly. You averted your eyes, but you couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t make you happy to see your sister loved so well.

The morning, or afternoon, was going exactly as you’d hoped. No attempts at conversation. No feelings. Of course, it couldn’t last. Once you’d finished eating, Ingrid perked up and seemed to prepare herself for what she was about to say, which instantly made you weary.

“We should talk about last night, kjære.” Ingrid said calmly.

You froze, slowly putting your mug back on the counter. Both other girls watched the way your whole body tense, the way every ounce of emotion was wiped off your face.

“I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about.” You said stiffly.

“That is not true. Something upset you, and we should discuss it.” Ingrid argued.

“Ingrid, it’s fine. Just leave it. We don’t need to talk about that. We don’t need to talk about anything.” You replied defensively.

“It’s not fine!” Ingrid said, raising her voice, and shaking off Mapi’s gestures to calm down. “None of this is fine. We need to talk about last night. We need to talk about the letter you wrote. We need to get you in therapy. These are all things that need to happen, solstråle. We’ve given you time, now we need to do this.”

“I am not going to therapy.” You declared, standing up with a scoff and crossing your arms across your chest. “Ingrid, I am fine. I don’t need to talk and I don’t need help.”

Ingrid grew visibly more angry with you at that, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration.

“Amor, take a breath.” Mapi said quietly, sighing to herself when Ingrid did not do so.

“You don’t need help? That is the most untrue thing I have ever heard. You do not write the things that you wrote and then turn around and say you’re fine. You. Need. Help.”

“Ingrid. I am not going to therapy, and I am done talking about this.” You said, your voice dangerously quiet.

Your sister wasn’t phased, stepping closer to you with her eyes narrowed. “You will go to therapy if I say you will, and this conversation is not over until I say it is.”

In retrospect, even Ingrid realized that this was decidedly the wrong thing to say. You didn’t take well to being told what to do. Your reaction really should have been worse; Ingrid had gotten off easy.

“Jesus, Ingrid, do you hear yourself? You sound just like mom.” You spit back, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the hurt that flashed across your sister’s face. “I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with you.” You spun around and began stomping towards the stairs. “Don’t fucking follow me.” You warned over your shoulder, causing Ingrid’s jaw to drop.

“Do not-” Ingrid began, starting after you.

“Amor, leave her.” Mapi said, intervening before Ingrid got very far, and pulling her back.

“She is the most frustrating person on the planet.” Ingrid huffed, slamming a hand down onto the counter. Mapi looked unimpressed.

“She is probably thinking the same thing about you right now. I told you not to push her.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Could you be on my side here for once?” She asked bitingly.

Mapi very calmly shook her head, opening her mouth to explain when Ingrid’s eyebrows flew up on her forehead. “No. I am on your sister’s side, and you should be too. No one has been for a really long time.”

The Norwegian deflated at that, sinking down into one of the stools at the counter. Mapi continued speaking, pulling Ingrid’s hair gently out of the bun it was in, and running her fingers through it. “You’re looking at this wrong, mi amor. She doesn’t need you to talk her into therapy. She’ll get there on her own, you just need to give her time. That girl has a long way to go before she admits she needs help, believe me.”

Ingrid sighed deeply. “Can you go check on her? She’s mad at me, I just need you to make sure she’s okay and she isn’t going to do anything stupid.”

“Of course.” Mapi said, delicately kissing Ingrid’s lips. “I love you.” She reminded the Norwegian with a soft, almost shy smile.

Ingrid wanted to cry at how sweet, how perfect, how helpful and kind and funny and beautiful her girlfriend was. “I love you, so so much.”

Mapi headed for the stairs, and Ingrid made yet another cup of coffee, a coffee she wouldn’t drink.

Because Mapi came running back down the stairs a minute later, an apprehensive look on her face as she approached her girlfriend.

“Mi amor, she isn’t up there.” She said carefully.

“What do you mean she isn’t up there,” Ingrid asked, rising to her feet and feeling panic rise within her.

Mapi just shook her head, putting her hands on Ingrid’s shoulders. “She isn’t up there. Her window is open, I think she snuck out.”

Ingrid felt like something inside of her was collapsing, leaving behind a chasm that was quickly filling with anxiety. “Where… what? She… she’s gone? She…we have to-”

What had you left to do? Only horrible, life shattering options of where you were and what you were doing were flying through Ingrid’s head, and she reached out, latching on to Mapi’s outstretched hands.

“Amor, breathe. Calm down. We’ll find her. Where would she go?”

Mapi hoped, with everything in her, that Ingrid had an answer. Because she had to be calm right now, for Ingrid, but Barcelona was a big city. And if you didn’t want to be found… Mapi didn’t know what would happen.

Ingrid’s mind was racing, but one thought pushed to the front of everything else. “The lake, there’s a lake in Melhus she would always go to when she was upset. She’d go to water, a body of water.”

Mapi nodded. “Okay, there are 2 beaches in walking distance, in opposite directions. We’ll go to one, and we’ll send Frido to the other.”

Privately, Mapi hoped Frido found you first. She wasn’t quite sure that you wouldn’t bolt away from Ingrid, but you wouldn’t be expecting Frido to pop up.

-------

A quick call to Frido later, Mapi was directing one very frazzled Norwegian into the car, and setting off for the beach. Ingrid was deep in thought, and Mapi kept her hand on her girlfriend’s leg, softly and soothingly rubbing her thumb back and forth. It was only a few minutes to the beach, and Mapi knew Ingrid would talk before they arrived.

“Do you think she’d do something stupid?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her hand covering Mapi’s and gripping tightly. The Spaniard didn’t need her to explain what she meant; she knew this question was coming, really.

“She said she wouldn’t.” Mapi said calmly.

“She said she wouldn’t ‘do that to me,’ that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do it, especially now that she’s mad at me.”

“This is a little fight. She wouldn’t… do that. Not over this.” Mapi reassured her, but Ingrid remained unconvinced.

“I don’t know what she’s thinking, María, maybe she was lying before.”

“Ingrid, mi amor, calm down. You have to trust her. Even when you’re scared, and even when it feels like you should take her bedroom door off the hinges and implant her with a GPS chip. You have to trust her not to hurt herself.”

“But what if she does?” Ingrid asked softly, as if saying the words loud enough would somehow will it into existence.

“We can’t think like that. Promise me you won’t think like that, okay?”

“Okay.” Ingrid agreed faintly. Both of them knew she was lying. It was all she’d been worrying about for days, and all she would worry about for many to come.

--------

Frido found you first. When she drove by the beach and didn't see you there, she got another idea. There was a rock climbing place nearby; Ingrid had said you always used to go to a lake back home when you were upset. Though Frido didn’t want to say so, it had been a long time since Ingrid had lived with you, and it wouldn’t have surprised her if your habits had changed. And the Swede knew from your instagram that you spent a lot of time rock climbing. She told Mapi where she was headed, and sped over to the gym.

Sure enough, as soon as she walked in the building, she spotted you in the middle of the hardest wall, seemingly only using the smallest holds to get yourself up. You were breathing hard, and the worker belaying you looked a bit concerned.

Frido pulled her phone out, shooting off a quick text to Mapi. “She’s here, she’s okay. Let me talk to her, don’t let Ingrid come in. I’ll bring her out.”

Ingrid probably wouldn’t help the situation, if you were as angry as you seemed. The blonde spoke quickly to the front desk attendant, and headed over to where you were.

She stood, just watching you. You were a few feet from the top now, luckily for your hands, which you clearly had not put enough chalk on, and were beginning to really hurt. With only a bit to go, you took a risk, attempting an impressive, one armed pull to get your other hand to the next hold. You just barely missed, falling away from the wall.

“Fuck,” you cursed, swinging back towards the wall and smacking it with your hand. You were lowered down, clearly fuming, and Frido took the opportunity to step in front of you, giving the girl attached to the other end of the rope a look.

“Again,” you requested, avoiding Frido’s gaze.

She took your hand in hers, though, inspecting the tear in your skin, shaking her head. “No, that’s enough Solstråle.”

“Leave me alone, Frido.” You snapped, trying to pull away from her when you felt the rope fall slack. You turned, seeing that the worker had abandoned her harness in favor of going to help someone else, no doubt at Frido’s direction.

You rolled your eyes, quickly regretting it when the Swede raised an eyebrow at you. Ingrid could be scary sometimes, but she had nothing on Frido.

“Are they here?” You asked, loosening the harness and stepping out of it with an exasperated sigh.

“They’re outside. You terrified your sister.” Frido said, pulling you over to a bench and making you sit down, before handing you a bottle of water.

You looked unimpressed. “I’m 18, I can handle myself in the city for an hour.”

“She wasn’t worried about that, she was worried you were going to hurt yourself.” Frido said bluntly, sitting down next to you. She ignored how stiff you’d grown and how uncomfortable you seemed, reaching for your hand and looking at it critically.

“That wasn’t on purpose.” You said defensively, wrenching your hand away once again. “And I told her I wouldn’t do that.”

“Can you blame her for worrying, Solstråle, really? And maybe you didn’t do that on purpose, but you came here to push yourself instead of dealing with your feelings in a healthy way.”

You really hated that she was right. Frido was always right. It was simultaneously her worst and best trait.

“Are they mad?” You asked in a small voice, suddenly looking very much your age. Frido stood and held out a hand to help you up.

“Not right now. Just worried. Ingrid’s going to give you a hug and you’re going to let her.” Frido instructed. You supposed that was fair. And really, you could use a hug. Hugs from your sister always made you feel better, even if you’d never admit it.

As you exited the building, you instantly spotted your sister and her girlfriend by their car. Mapi was leaning calmly against the Cupra, while Ingrid was pacing frantically, speaking fast and gesturing wildly with her hands.

“Did I do that?” You asked quietly.

Frido laughed. “I think she was born like that.”

As you neared the car, Ingrid turned as Mapi pointed at you, her face melting with relief at the sight of you. It really hit you, then, how worried she must have been, to still be so anxious even after Frido had likely told her you were okay. You weren’t making this easy on your sister.

She practically knocked you over with the force of her hug. “You’re okay.” She murmured into the top of your head, leaving a kiss there.

“I’m okay.” You reiterated, letting yourself hug her back tightly, even if it was just for a moment. She felt you tighten your arms around her almost unconsciously, and made a note to hug you more often. Even if it seemed like you weren’t very interested. After a minute she pulled back, placing both hands on your cheeks and making you look at her.

“Next time leave through the front door? And tell me where you’re going? Please?” She asked. You appreciated that she didn’t tell you to do this, leaving it more as a request, although you knew it was a reasonable rule for her to put in place.

“Promise.” You said quietly. She nodded her head, satisfied, before pulling Frido into a hug that also looked to be too tight. Mapi was looking at you, rather unimpressed. You knew she was not happy with you for upsetting your sister so much, and though it annoyed you a bit, you knew it was deserved. And you appreciated that your sister had someone that was so protective over her.

“In the car, nena. I want to talk to you when we get home.” Mapi instructed. You got in the car with no argument, the fight having gone out of you a bit. It had nothing to do with the hug Ingrid had given you, nothing at all. Definitely not. Instead of anger, you only felt apprehension, because Mapi looked dead serious about whatever she wanted to talk about.

-------

You were nothing short of shocked when Mapi opened the door to the garage and gestured you inside upon arriving home. Ingrid watched on anxiously, and you pretended not to see the way Mapi whispered some reassurance to her and kissed her cheek, before pointing her towards the kitchen

You’d never been in the garage before; it was Mapi’s space. You were already invading her home, you wouldn’t invade the one place of the house that was really hers, too. You knew she worked something out there, knew there was a reason both cars parked in the driveway instead of in the garage.

Mapi followed you into the room and sat down on a stool next to the large motorcycle in the middle of the garage. It was clearly in the process of being restored. You hadn’t known Mapi rode motorcycles. Well, you hadn’t known that your sister let Mapi ride a motorcycle. You stood awkwardly in the door as Mapi inspected 2 different wrenches, until she pointed at the stool next to her.

“Ven aqui, nena.” She said.

You took a seat, not really enjoying the tense silence that washed over the room. “Are you mad at me?” You asked after a minute. For all your anger, and all your bravado, you didn’t like it when people were mad at you. Especially not people you looked up to, people you admired.

“No. Not mad, nena. Never mad. I wish you hadn’t snuck out your window, but I understand why you did. I wish sometimes you thought a bit more about how your actions affect me and your sister, but I know how hard that is to do when you’re as angry as you are.”

“I’m not angry.” You said defensively. Mapi rolled her eyes, handing you a couple of tools and beginning to tighten something on the bike.

“You are angry. You’re so angry that you feel like you’re going to explode sometimes. You’re so angry that sometimes you forget that you’re sad, too. You’re angry, and you’re hurt, and I cannot blame you for that. If anyone has a right to those emotions, it’s you.” You didn’t really enjoy being perceived so well, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “I know angry, nena. Do you remember when I hurt my knee?”

You nodded. The first few weeks of Mapi's injury hadn’t been a fun time, your sister beyond stressed with dealing with Mapi’s injury and her new role in the team, and you’d tried hard to be on your best behavior.

“I started working on this bike a year ago, when everything happened with the Spanish federation. It was Ingrid’s idea, a way for me to distract myself. When I hurt my knee, it had been a bit since I’d worked on it, but suddenly I was back in this garage until all hours of the night. It’s nice to be able to control something like this, when everything else feels out of your control. That is how climbing is for you, yes?”

You relaxed a bit at the turn the conversation was taking, and Mapi wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t just the topic; it was the fact that she wasn’t staring at you, putting pressure on you to give her an answer she wanted to hear. You were just talking. Casually.

“Yeah. I’m in control, and I don’t have to think about anything else. It’s relaxing.”

“It’s good for you to have an outlet like that.” Mapi stated. “This bike was Ingrid’s idea, when we first got together. Do you know what her other idea was?”

You were pretty sure you did, and you grimaced at the thought. “Therapy?”

Mapi snorted, handing you the wrench she was using and taking the screwdriver from your hand. “Yes therapy. You don’t have to look at it like that, though, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“It’s not for me.” You said decisively.

Mapi just shrugged. “I didn’t think it was for me either.” She paused, knowing your curiosity would get the better of you, and you’d ask for more information.

“What changed your mind?” You asked after a minute.

“Your sister did. After the euros, I had a hard time coming back to Barça and playing. Those weeks were some of the hardest of my life, trying to find my rhythm again but trying to recover from the stress I’d been under that summer. I was a mess. And Ingrid was right there with me, through all of it. I’d had a really bad day, and I asked Ingrid to come home early from a lunch she had. She came home, calmed me down, and afterwards, she asked me if I trusted her. I said I did. And she said that she really wanted me to try therapy. That I didn’t have to feel how I felt, and I deserved help. I deserved to not be miserable. She asked me to try it, for her, just give it a try.”

“And you did.”

“And I did. Because she’d done so much for me, I couldn’t refuse her request. Not when I knew she just wanted the best for me. I gave it a shot, and it helped, more than anything else had helped. It wasn’t a fix all, but it helped. It made me feel like I was doing something to get better.”

Mapi abandoned her work on the bike, looking at you for the first time since you’d entered the garage. You could only see sincerity in her gaze. Not anger, but annoyance. Just sincerity. “You deserve help, Solstråle. No matter how you feel about yourself, Ingrid and I know you. And we know you deserve help. You’re a good person, and you deserve to be happy.”

María sounded so sure. So completely convinced. You looked away from her, blinking hard.

“You don’t have to agree to anything now. Keep an open mind about it. Think about it. Okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed quietly, grateful that Mapi didn’t make a big deal out of it, only nodding slightly.

“One more promise?” She asked.

“What?”

“Talk to us. Or just me, or just Ingrid. We’re a little lost here, nena. It feels like we were just kind of plopped down in the middle of this. We had no idea anything was going on, not really. And all of a sudden we’re reading that letter, and realizing we missed a lot. That’s on us; we should have noticed sooner. We don’t have the whole picture, though, and that makes it really hard for us to figure out how to help you. We’ll both worry a lot less if you talked to us, just a little bit.”

That was reasonable, you had to admit. When she put it like that. You’d spent so much time being annoyed that no one had noticed, then being annoyed when they finally did notice, you hadn’t really spent a ton of time thinking about how little they knew. There was no context to your behavior, aside from what you’d put in the letter. And that just barely scratched the surface. You supposed they deserved an explanation. At least a bit of one.

“I’ll try.” You promised.

Mapi grinned at you this time, an infectious smile. “Bueno! Come here with that wrench. No, that one. Put it on this bolt. Twist.”

And just like that, the conversation was over. Easily. You got the feeling that Mapi would have let it go if you’d insisted on it, but you miraculously felt better. Talking, listening had made you feel better. Mapi had made you feel better.

-------

You both emerged from the garage around an hour and a half later, when the smell of baking cookies became too strong to resist. Ingrid had clearly been stress baking, one of your favorite of her habits. There were at least 3 different types of cookies on the counter, some done baking, some still in progress. It smelled so distinctly of home in the house, it was almost overwhelming.

“I have something for you,” Ingrid said, drying her hands and stepping away from the counter when you walked into the room.

“I can see that.” You said, nodding to the cookies appreciatively, but Ingrid shook her head.

“No, something else.” Ingrid said.

“OH! I do too.” Mapi said excitedly, and they both disappeared in different directions. You stood bewildered in the kitchen, not quite sure what you were about to be given.

They returned simultaneously, each holding what looked to be 2 frames. “Mapi’s first.” Ingrid directed. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

You looked surprisingly at Mapi, taking the present and beginning to unwrap the wrapping paper. “What is this for?” You asked.

“Your birthday.” Ingrid said quietly. You froze momentarily, an unreadable expression flashing across your face. “I know it seems like we forgot, but we didn’t. We got the dates messed up, but we had presents, and we had dinner reservations, just… for the 25th. Not the 15th.”

“Oh. I thought you’d forgotten.” You said slowly, seemingly slightly emotional.

“Nope, just bad at remembering dates. Now open your present.” Mapi said impatiently, bouncing on her feet like an overexcited child.

You unwrapped it slowly, as if you were slightly weary of what it might be. When you pulled the frame from the wrapping paper, though, every wall you’d put up fell instantly, your jaw dropping open at the piece of art in your hands.

It was a map. Not just a map, but a map of all the hiking trails in Barcelona. It was textured, detailed, labeled. It was intricate, all neutrals and earthy colors. It was so you. From the contents to the design, it was like it had been made just for you.

“Mapi…” You whispered, staring, stunned, at the map. “Where did you… how did you… what?”

“Ale’s sister Fresa went to school with this girl that hand makes maps like this. I got her name from diablillo, and I told her what I wanted. Do you like it, do you like it?” Mapi asked excitedly.

Mapi got her answer when you handed the frame to Ingrid, and launched yourself the few feet between you and Mapi, wrapping her in a tight hug. Mapi beamed at Ingrid, who was trying very hard not to cry. She hadn’t even given Mapi any advice on the gift. It had been all her girlfriend’s idea, she executed it all by herself, determined to get Solstråle the perfect gift.

“It’s perfect, thank you María,” you mumbled. The ridiculous smile on Mapi’s lips didn’t falter at the use of her real name, only squeezing you tighter.

“Te amo, Solstråle.” She said back. For once, you believed it. When you pulled away from the hug, it was to see Mapi looking smugly at your sister. “INGRID I DEFINITELY WON.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t even opened my present yet.”

“Still. I won.” Mapi smirked.

Now it was Ingrid’s turn to hand you your gift. It was wrapped in the same paper, and you tore it off, almost cautiously, not quite sure what Ingrid would have gotten you.

You were, once again, speechless at what you saw. This time, your eyes filled with tears immediately. Ingrid wasn’t as excited as Mapi had been, instead looking at you anxiously.

It was a painting of a waterfall back home not far from your house. It was so distinct, you knew Ingrid must have paid a ridiculous amount of money to get someone to hand paint it. Each individual stroke was so precise, blending perfectly into the image it was supposed to be, but if you focused hard, you could pick out the greens and greys and blues and whites that you’d grown up with.

It felt like home. It felt comforting. You could almost smell the trees, feel the cool sting of wind on your cheeks. It was a little piece of home just for you, and it was perfect. So beautiful and artistic that you weren’t sure you were worthy of it, but you looked at it in awe nonetheless. You wiped at your cheeks, not able to control the tidal wave of emotion washing over you.

“Kjære? Is it okay?” Ingrid asked anxiously, her eyes searching your face, trying to figure out if these were good tears or bad tears.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Okay? Ingrid… it’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s… perfect. Thank you.” You said, turning to her with a look of complete shock. And even though it pained Ingrid that you were so surprised to receive a nice gift for your birthday, she pushed that feeling down. Instead, she pulled you in towards her, placing the frame on the counter so she could hug you properly. You were happy with it, now, and that was all Ingrid had control over.

After a few seconds, Ingrid moved to pull away and break the hug, but you kept your arms wrapped around her, not quite ready to let go yet. Maybe it was the homesickness, or maybe it was your sister making you feel so known, and so loved. Whatever the reason, you just wanted her near you for a minute more, holding you nice and tight and safe against her.

“I love you,” she whispered, hearing you mumble the words back, your voice thick with emotion. When you did pull away, a minute later, it was to wipe at your face in an almost embarrassed manner.

Seeing how desperate you were for the attention to be off your tears, Mapi spoke up, her voice light and easy. “You can put them up in your room, you don’t have anything on the walls.”

You looked at the ground, then, almost sheepishly. “I didn’t know I could put anything up on them.” You admitted.

The room fell quiet, but even though you could tell that what you said had hurt Ingrid and Mapi, they just shook their heads softly. “It’s your room, for good, you can do whatever you want to it.” Ingrid told you.

You were about to thank her, and try to move the conversation long when Mapi let out a dramatic gasp. Both you and Ingrid whipped your heads to look at her, confused at the mischievous grin on her face.

“Ikea. WE CAN GO TO IKEA AND GET FURNITURE FOR SOLSTRÅLE’S ROOM.”

“María, calm down. Maybe she doesn’t want to redo her room.” Ingrid looked at you hopefully, and you knew it had nothing to do with your room, and everything to do with her not wanting to take Mapi to ikea.

You simply smirked back at Ingrid, who sighed and shut her eyes for a minute.

“Okay. Ikea.” She said finally. You and Mapi cheered, comically loudly, completely ignoring the rules she was setting in favor of high fiving each other and going to get ready to leave. “María, you are not building anything. Solstråle does not need her bed to collapse under her in the middle of the night. And kjære, please, please, don’t let Mapi talk you into a loft bed, you’ll fall off of it and break your arm. Amor? Kjære? ARE EITHER OF YOU LISTENING!” Ingrid shouted after you, rolling her eyes at the chants of ikea echoing around the house.

Mapi in Ikea was a handful. You, too, were a handful at the store. Together? She was going to lose one of you, she was sure of it. It had been a long day already. And it was only set to get longer.

--------

fluffy engen-león family trying to put furniture together in the next part?

yes, that IS all i have to say about this chapter thank you for your time.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #platonic reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #sol☀️#🍓☀️

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mswyrr · 1 year ago

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otoh, it's better off white parents who are able to defend that concept of "rights" over their children. poorer people, especially lower income people of color and their kids? Cps will remove kids from a home for being poor basically and then - give foster parents money we could have given the parents. giving foster parents money for disability accommodations after taking a child because the kid's parents couldn't afford those accommodations is a common thing.

child poverty doubled in recent years due to policy decisions under a Democratic president who hasn't fought for poor and working families. and kids removed to foster parents and situations make kids more likely to be pressed into the carceral system, which the Democrats are entirely complicit in. poorer schools similarly fail and abuse kids (cops and other security in schools literally hitting, cuffing, etc kids, and things like oppressive military recruitment). there should be no such thing as lunch money debt etc. in the US, society/government itself isn't such a great "parent."

i absolutely, as a kid of poor white parents, didn't tell anyone about abuse because it was the simple reality that (a) a lot of the abuse was due to the fact that my parents were poor and mentally ill and had little to no support and i knew this (b) i knew the alternatives were worse. i'd seen my brothers in those situations.

society abuses kids. kids are unsafe in unjust, exploitative, -ist societies.

I think the hardest part about addressing child abuse is getting people to acknowledge, not just intellectually but actually responding accordingly, is that the biggest threat to children, the biggest risk of abuse, is family and parents.

it is of course most often parents who are crowing about needing to protect children (often against far smaller threats than family), and pointing out that they are, statistically, the biggest threat to their kids is not gonna be received well.

#cw abuse #us politics tag #this country is a monster #it's a beast and it's an iron cage #and no other topic can be discussed #without including that #'parents are the biggest threat to their kids uwu' but no mention of all of that? no mention of structural violence?#no mention of the way toxic stress from poverty - from racism - from lack of access to mental health support shapes parents #away from being the parents they'd like to be to their kids?#no mention of the fact that 62% of the people working in this country #barely make enough to pay their bills and have nothing left over after?#no mention of the juvie system - the larger carceral system - the choice to make poverty to make exploitation to make conditions of abuse?#the ways poor kids are targeted for military recruitment?#no mention of ANY of that?#ooooookay tumblr #cool cool cool #this country is a monster that devours people including kids #to enrich the few #the biggest challenge in addressing child abuse is that #is that this society devours people and doesnt actually give a shit about kids #or human life generally #that's the biggest problem

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unconventional-lawnchair · 5 days ago

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Could you please do a poly marauders+lily with reader having to take some time off of school due to poor mental health/stress! This could be with an eating disorder or just simple depression or something like that. Feel free to adjust this however you like! Love your writings btw💙

AN: Thank you!! 💕 This is so cute I may have gone overboard.

Loving You is Easy

Marauders + Lily x fem!Reader

Summary: Being younger than all your respective partners was never a big deal; until they graduated and you were left behind. As your mental health declined and their lives started without you, a break was needed.

WC: 5.7k

CW: Mentions of Practice kissing, reader gets babied.

The morning light filtered through the large windows of James’s bedroom, the soft warmth of the sun brushing against your skin. Normally, this room was filled with life- James’s laughter, Sirius’s sarcastic remarks, Lily’s quick wit, and Remus’s calm steadiness. But today, it was just you, cocooned in the comforting scent of them, sinking deeper into the bed that had become your refuge.

James’s Quidditch jersey was bunched in your hands, the fabric soft from years of wear. You’d slipped it on at some point last night, the oversized garment brushing against your thighs as you curled tighter beneath the blanket. Lily’s pillow was tucked under your head, her faint floral scent surrounding you.

You knew you should get up. But the thought of facing anything beyond these four walls was suffocating. You had already overstayed your welcome- you should be at Hogwarts. In class. The winter hadn't even ended yet and you caved in on yourself.

The door creaked open, and James peeked his head inside, his messy hair sticking up at odd angles. He was always the first to notice when something was off, his intuition as sharp as his loyalty was- unwavering.

“Hey, love,” He said softly, stepping into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb your cocoon of blankets. “You’ve been in here all morning. Feeling stuck?”

You nodded faintly, burying your face deeper into Lily’s pillow.

James gave a heartbroken coo, his hand reaching out to smooth your hair. James's hand lingered in your hair, his fingers carding through the strands as if it might untangle the weight pressing down on you. He tilted his head, a soft, lopsided smile curling his lips despite the crease of worry in his brow.

“My little brave fox,” he murmured, the nickname rolling off his tongue like a secret he was sharing just with you. “You’ve got no idea how much I love you, do you?”

You didn’t reply, but your fingers tightened slightly on the jersey bunched in your hands. James’s eyes caught the movement, his chest aching at the sight of you clinging so tightly to anything that might bring you comfort. And it was a piece of him.

“I should really shower,” he said, his voice low, almost to himself. “I’m a right mess after that run.”

But he made no move to get up. Instead, he leaned down closer, brushing a kiss against your temple, his lips lingering there as he exhaled. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He murmured, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and awe.

Finally, he forced himself to pull back, though his eyes stayed locked on you. “All right,” He said, his voice soft and coaxing. “Here’s the deal: I’ll go shower, so I don’t stink up the place, and then I’m coming right back here to hold you until you’re ready to take on the world- or until Sirius bursts in and tries to steal you away. Sound good?”

Your nod was barely a movement, but it was enough to make his heart clench painfully.

“Good,” He said, a grin breaking through despite the worry etched into his features. “Don’t go anywhere, yeah? Not that you’d want to. You’re in my bed, after all. Best spot in the whole manor.”

His teasing earned him the faintest twitch of your lips, and his grin widened, his chest swelling with a bittersweet kind of pride.

“Be right back, love,” He promised, pressing another kiss to your hair before reluctantly standing and heading for the door. He paused in the doorway, turning back for one last look at you, his hand gripping the doorframe as though he couldn’t bear to leave.

“I mean it,” He said softly. “Bravest little fox I’ve ever known.”

And with that, he disappeared into the en-suite bathroom.

It wasn't long before Lily came in, her soft footsteps barely audible on the carpet. She carried a steaming mug of tea, the soothing aroma of chamomile filling the air.

Lily placed the tea on the bedside table with careful precision, as though even the smallest noise might disturb your fragile peace. Her green eyes softened as they took you in- curled up in the bed, buried under layers of blankets, clutching James’s jersey like a lifeline. She crouched down, bringing herself to your level, her voice gentle but purposeful.

"My sleepy girl," She murmured, her words carrying both affection and worry. “You’ve been working so hard, sweetheart. Too hard.”

You didn’t respond, but the slight movement of your shoulders, as though trying to disappear further into the bed, told her enough.

Without another word, Lily stood and walked to the windows. With a flick of her wand, the heavy curtains drew themselves shut, dimming the room to a soft, cozy glow. The harsh winter light was replaced by the flickering warmth of lanterns, which she conjured in the corners of the room, their golden light soothing rather than overwhelming.

She paused, surveying the space with the critical eye of someone determined to make it perfect. Another flick of her wand, and the fireplace roared to life, its gentle crackle filling the silence.

When she returned to your side, she adjusted the blanket around you, tucking it under your chin with the utmost care. “There we are,” She said softly. “That’s a bit better, isn’t it?”

You nodded faintly, though your grip on the jersey didn’t loosen.

Lily reached for the tea again, this time bringing it closer. “I made this just for you,” She said, holding the mug carefully. “Chamomile, with a touch of honey- exactly how you like it. You don’t have to drink it all right now, but just one sip, love. For me?”

Her voice was so patient, so kind, that you found yourself leaning up slightly to take the mug. The warmth seeped into your hands, grounding you as you took a small sip.

“There’s my girl,” Lily cooed, her smile soft and encouraging. “You’re trying, and that’s all I could ever ask of you.”

Lily didn’t linger with physical affection- she knew you needed space today. Instead, she moved around the room, her actions deliberate and filled with purpose. She tidied the bedside table, arranging your tea and the stack of books James had haphazardly left there. She straightened the extra blanket at the foot of the bed, ensuring you had everything you might need within arm’s reach.

“Sweetheart,” She said as she worked, her voice gentle but firm. “I need you to hear this. You are not overstaying your welcome. This is your home, just as much as it’s ours. And there’s no clock ticking down on how long you’re allowed to rest.”

Her words hung in the air, a balm for the guilt you hadn’t been able to voice.

“You give so much of yourself,” She continued, turning to look at you. “To your studies, to your friends, to us. It’s time to let us give something back.”

Once the room was to her liking, Lily returned to your side, settling into the chair James kept beside the bed. She didn’t press you to talk or move, simply grabbing her abandoned knitting project and watching you with the kind of quiet determination that made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere.

“You don’t have to face everything today,” She hummed, looking down at her project and after a while, her voice grew soft- steady. “Some days are for fighting dragons. And some days...” She gestured to the bed and the blankets enveloping you. “Are for letting us do it for you.”

You didn’t reply, but when she reached for the tea again, you took another sip without hesitation.

“That’s my good girl,” She whispered, her smile returning. “Just take it one sip at a time, love. I’ll be right here.”

Sirius burst in next, his energy as uncontainable as ever, though it softened the moment he saw you curled up in the bed. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed.

“Well, aren’t you a sight,” He teased lightly, though there was no bite in his tone- still earned him a glare from Lily. “What’s the excuse today? Too good for the rest of us? Or is this just another one of your ‘I’m not enough’ days?”

The humor was sharp, but the tenderness in his voice cracked through your defenses. You peeked out from beneath the blanket, giving him the smallest of glares.

“There she is,” He chuckled with a smirk, hands on his hips. “You’re lucky you’re adorable, you know. Otherwise, we might get offended by all this moping.”

Sirius strode over, his smirk fading into something softer as he crouched down to your level, his dark eyes searching yours. There was mischief there, of course, but also something deeper- concern, a kind of devotion that made you feel seen in a way that was both comforting and overwhelming.

Before addressing you again, Sirius turned to Lily, catching her hand and pressing a dramatic kiss to the back of it. “Don’t look at me like that, Evans,” He murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I’m here to help, not to make trouble. Mostly.”

Lily arched an eyebrow, but her lips twitched with a smile. “Be good,” She warned lightly, though the fondness in her voice betrayed her.

“Always,” Sirius replied, leaning forward to kiss her properly this time. It wasn’t quick or casual- it was intense and full of the kind of passion that made you look away instinctively, even though you were used to seeing it between them. When he pulled back, his grin had returned, brighter now.

“Merlin,” He sighed, turning his attention back to you. “Beautiful things you are. How’d I get so lucky, hmm?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. Sirius Black, the eternal flirt, wasn’t supposed to be this soft. And yet, here he was, looking at you like you were the only thing in the room that mattered.

He settled himself on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands as he regarded you with a lopsided grin. “You know, you’ve really done it this time,” He chuckled, his tone light but warm. “Stolen James’s jersey, taken over his bed, and now hoarding Lily’s attention. Such a spoiled girl.”

Sirius's grin softened as he leaned down, his lips brushing over the blanket-covered curve of your shoulder. His voice dropped to a whisper, rough with affection and sincerity.

“I bloody love it,” He murmured, his dark eyes locked on yours. “Such a pretty girl, even when she’s hiding from me.”

Your breath hitched, though you quickly averted your gaze, burying your face further into Lily’s pillow. Sirius chuckled, the sound low and warm, as though your attempt to retreat only endeared you to him more.

Lily cleared her throat pointedly, her knitting needles clinking together as she worked. “Sirius Black,” She said with mock severity, though the softness in her voice betrayed her. “If you’re going to flirt, at least make yourself useful.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her, leaning back with that ever-present smirk. “Flirting is useful, Evans. Keeps her smiling, doesn’t it?”

Lily rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, her gaze flicking back to you. “You’re insufferable,” She muttered, though her lips twitched with a smile.

Sirius turned back to you, his hand brushing against the blanket as if silently asking permission to stay closer. “She’s just jealous,” He teased lightly. “She can’t stand how good I am at making you smile.”

When you didn’t reply, his voice softened, and his grin faded into something more vulnerable. “I mean it, though,” He murmured, his tone low and sincere. “I love seeing you get what you deserve. Everything. And I don’t care if you want to hide away in this bed forever, I’ll be right here with you.”

Lily paused her knitting, her expression softening as she glanced at Sirius. “You’re not as hopeless as you let everyone believe,” She said quietly, the hint of a smile on her lips.

“Don’t let that get out,” Sirius replied with a wink, though his eyes remained fixed on you. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering for just a moment. “It’s our secret, yeah, love?”

Only then did you give a shy nod.

Remus entered the room quietly, his presence like the gentle warmth of a winter hearth. His amber eyes swept over the scene- Lily perched in her chair, Sirius lounging on the bed with a familiar smirk, and you cocooned in the blankets, clutching James’s jersey like a lifeline.

He crossed to Lily first, his movements unhurried, his focus unwavering. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple, the simple gesture filled with quiet affection. Lily looked up at him, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile as she reached up to touch his hand briefly before returning to her knitting.

Sirius, never one to be outdone, groaned dramatically from his spot on the bed. “Oh, come on, Moony. Where’s my kiss?”

Remus sighed, his lips twitching in amusement as he turned toward Sirius. “You’re relentless,” He muttered, though the corners of his mouth betrayed his fondness. He leaned down and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to Sirius’s lips, earning a pleased hum from the man sprawled beside you.

“There. Happy now?” Remus asked, his voice tinged with dry humor.

Sirius grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Ecstatic. Don’t let it stop there, though.”

You stayed quiet, sinking further into the blankets as you watched the interactions unfold. Remus hadn’t looked at you yet, hadn’t even acknowledged you, and the knot of guilt in your chest tightened. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was upset with you- if your inability to pull yourself out of this slump was finally wearing on his patience.

Lily must have noticed the way your fingers tightened on the jersey because she glanced at Remus pointedly. “Moony,” She said softly, her tone a mixture of gentle affection and subtle reprimand.

Remus’s gaze snapped to you, his amber eyes widening slightly as if realizing his mistake. “Oh, love,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that soothing tone he used when he wanted you to feel safe.

He crouched beside the bed, his hand resting lightly on the edge of the blanket. “I wasn’t ignoring you,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours for any trace of hurt. “I just didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you glanced away, feeling foolish for thinking he’d been upset.

Remus reached out, his hand hovering near yours before settling gently over it. “I could never be upset with you,” he said, as though he’d read your mind. “I promise.”

His touch was warm, grounding, and you felt the knot in your chest begin to loosen.

“You’ve been so strong,” he continued, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles. “But you don’t have to be. Not with us.”

Sirius leaned back, watching the two of you with a faint smile that lacked his usual mischief. “Told you,” he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Lily set her knitting aside and stood, crossing to place a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “She’s been feeling like a burden,” she said quietly, her green eyes meeting his.

Remus’s brows furrowed, his expression pained. “Love,” He whispered, turning his full attention back to you. “You are never a burden. You’re ours, and we’re yours. That’s all that matters.”

His words wrapped around you like a second blanket, his steady presence chasing away the lingering shadows. When you finally met his gaze, the soft smile that broke across his face was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“There she is,” He murmured, reaching up to brush a tear from your cheek. “That’s my girl.”

You sniffled, your lips trembling as you whispered, “I thought you were mad at me.”

Remus shook his head, his hand moving to cradle your cheek. “Never,” he said firmly. “Not in a million years.”

Lily bent down to kiss your other cheek, her voice gentle. “See? You’ve got us, love. Always.”

James emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and unruly, wearing nothing but his Quidditch shorts that clung low on his hips. He ran a towel through his hair, a casual grin already forming as he took in the scene: Sirius sitting on the bed beside you, Remus crouched at your side, and Lily perched back in her chair with her knitting. The room was soft with warmth, but James immediately noticed the slight redness in your eyes and the protective way everyone had positioned themselves around you.

“Oi, what’s this?” James said, tossing his towel onto a nearby chair. He crossed the room with his usual exuberance, his hazel eyes flicking between all of you. “You’re all hogging her. My bed, my girl, my jersey- where’s my share of the attention?”

Lily raised an eyebrow, though a small smile played on her lips. “Potter, don’t start.”

James frowned, his gaze finally landing on you fully. His teasing faded the moment he saw the way you were curled into yourself, the oversized jersey swallowing your frame as you clutched it tightly. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning closer. “Hey, what’s going on?” His voice was softer now, full of concern. “You okay, love?”

Sirius leaned back, his playful smirk replaced by a rare seriousness. He exchanged a glance with Lily and Remus before turning back to James. “She’s having a rough one,” Sirius said, his voice low. “Feeling like she’s not enough.”

James’s brows shot up in shock before knitting together in confusion. “Not enough?” He turned his full attention to you, his hazel eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? You- ”

He cut himself off, as if the thought was too absurd to finish. Instead, he shuffled closer, placing a hand over yours where it gripped his jersey. “Why would you ever think something like that?” His voice cracked slightly, the intensity of his feelings bleeding through. “You’re- Merlin, love, you’re everything. Don’t you know that?”

Your eyes welled up again, and you averted your gaze, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of their care. “You’re all out there, doing amazing things,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Graduated, working, making a difference. And I’m just... stuck. Still in school, not knowing what I’m doing with my life. I feel like I’ll never catch up to any of you.”

James looked like he’d been physically struck. He opened his mouth, closed it, then looked around at the others for help. “Did you hear that?” He finally asked, addressing the room as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “She thinks she’s not enough. Her.” He gestured toward you, his expression almost comically outraged. “How’s that possible?”

Lily sighed, placing her knitting aside. “We’re working on it, James,” She said gently. “But maybe you could use less dramatics and more comfort?”

James blinked, then seemed to deflate. He turned back to you, his hand now cradling your cheek. “You listen to me, and you listen good,” He said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “You are the bravest, kindest, most wonderful person I’ve ever met. You make every single one of us better just by being you. And I don’t care if you’re still in school or taking a break or deciding to be a bloody Muggle librarian- whatever you do, it’ll be brilliant, because you’re brilliant.”

You let out a soft, shaky laugh despite yourself, and James’s eyes lit up. “There’s my girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “No one’s allowed to make you feel like you’re not enough, love. Not even you.”

Sirius snorted, though his grin was soft. “James Potter, defender of self-esteem. Who would’ve thought?”

Remus reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he gave James a knowing look. “For once, I’m not going to argue with him,” Remus said softly, his hand lingering against your cheek. “He’s right, you know. We wouldn’t be us without you.”

Lily leaned forward, her green eyes warm with affection. “And we’re not moving forward without you. You set your pace, sweetness, and we’ll match it. Always.”

James looked between them, then back at you, his grin returning. “See? We’re a package deal. You’re stuck with us, love. No escaping it.”

You couldn’t help but smile through your tears, the warmth of their unwavering love wrapping around you like a shield. For the first time in weeks, the weight on your chest felt just a little lighter.

“It's not too much?” You muttered, sinking into the sheets as James' arm wrapped around your middle. Muttering something to the others about hogging you.

“What's that, my sweetness?” Lily furrowed her brow at you as you shied away from her look.

“Having to.. do this. Dote on me every time even the slightest thing goes wrong.”

James froze, his arm tightening around you slightly as he processed your words. His hazel eyes widened in genuine confusion, and he blurted, “What?”

Sirius snorted, his smirk quickly turning to a full-on grin as he lounged back against the headboard. “She’s lost it,” he declared dramatically, waving a hand. “Thinks she’s a burden. Absolute nonsense.”

Remus gave him a mild look but didn’t disagree. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his hand still resting on yours. “Love,” he said softly, his voice carrying that calming steadiness you always found comforting. “Why would you ever think that? We want to take care of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tightening on James’s jersey. “It just feels like too much sometimes,” You admitted hesitantly. “Every time I feel like this... every time something goes wrong, it’s like you have to put everything on hold for me. I don’t want to be that person.”

Lily set down her knitting with deliberate care, her green eyes narrowing slightly- not in anger, but in the kind of determination that made it clear she wasn’t letting this go. “Sweetheart,” She said firmly, leaning forward. “Do you remember the first time we really talked? Before all of this- before we were close?”

You blinked at her, startled by the question. “I... kind of?”

Lily smiled faintly, though there was a bittersweetness in her expression. “It was in our dorm, during fifth year. I had just gotten a letter from Petunia.”

The memory slowly surfaced, and your heart ached at the thought. You remembered that night vividly now: Lily sitting on her bed, trembling with silent tears as she clutched a crumpled piece of parchment. You’d found her there, completely undone by her sister’s cruel words.

“She’d written to tell me how much she hated me,” Lily continued, her voice soft but steady. “How I was a freak for being at Hogwarts. That I’d ruined everything for her. And I- I believed her, just for a moment. It was awful.”

You remembered sitting down beside her, your heart breaking for her pain. “I- I stayed with you,” you said quietly, piecing the memory together. “I hugged you, I think? And we talked for hours?”

Lily nodded, her smile softening. “You did more than that, love. You made me tea- awful tea, by the way, but I drank it anyway. And you told me stories about your family, about how proud they were of you, just to remind me that I had people who cared about me. You stayed up all night with me, even though I told you to go to bed.”

“I remember,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes again.

Lily reached over, her hand warm as it brushed against your knee. “You didn’t think it was too much then, did you? Taking care of me when I needed it?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not. You needed someone.”

“And now you do,” she said simply. “And we’re here. Just like you were for me. That’s what this is, love. It’s not about being too much. It’s about love.”

Remus’s soft chuckle broke the silence that followed Lily’s words, drawing your teary eyes toward him. He was leaning back slightly, his long fingers absently running along the edge of the blanket near your hand.

“Since we’re doing memory lane,” He began, his voice calm but with a faint note of regret, “do you remember that time in the boys’ dorm? It must’ve been third year. It was just us, and I snapped at you over- what was it? Something stupid. A book, I think?”

Your brows furrowed as you tried to place the memory. Slowly, the image came back: the two of you in the quiet of the boys’ dormitory, Remus unusually tense as he rummaged through his belongings. You’d picked up one of his books, curious, and asked an innocent question about it, only for him to lash out sharply- so unlike his usual gentle self.

“I remember,” you murmured softly. “You were really upset.”

“I was a complete prat,” He huffed, his amber eyes meeting yours with a mix of apology and gratitude. “It was a couple of days before the full moon, and I was already on edge, but you didn’t know that. Hell, none of you knew yet. And instead of being angry with me- or worse, scared- you stayed.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the rawness in his voice. “You looked like you needed someone,” you said simply, echoing Lily’s earlier words. “I could tell something was wrong.”

Remus’s lips quirked in a small smile, though his eyes shone with unshed emotion. “You didn’t just stay. You sat with me, kept asking gentle questions until I calmed down. You even brought me one of James’s chocolate frogs- though you tried to hide the wrapper like you hadn’t nicked it.”

A small laugh bubbled up from your throat, the memory vivid now. “I thought he’d notice if the stash got too low.”

“He definitely did,” Sirius interjected with a grin. “He’s still salty about it.”

Remus ignored him, his focus entirely on you. “The point is, you stayed when I didn’t deserve it. When I wasn’t kind, when I didn’t have the words to explain what was really wrong- you stayed. You always have.”

He leaned forward, his hand brushing against yours again, grounding you. “And now, it’s our turn. You don’t have to say the right thing or be the strong one. You don’t have to do anything but let us stay with you. Just like you did for me.”

Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Instead, you nodded, your fingers brushing against his in a quiet acknowledgment.

Sirius let out a low whistle, cutting through the quiet moment as he stretched out on the bed beside you. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was a softness to his expression that tempered it. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but tinged with something deeper, “if we’re sharing stories of how this one”- he nudged your arm gently- “has saved our sorry hides, I’ve got a good one.”

You glanced at him, your brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Sirius smirked, leaning back against the headboard. “I’m talking about how you pulled off the impossible- getting me and Regulus to talk without trying to hex each other.”

The memory came back slowly, hazy around the edges but vivid in its heart. You and Regulus had become friends in your third year, a surprising bond that Sirius had always half-envied, half-admired. Regulus had refused to speak to Sirius for years, his bitterness over his brother’s rebellion cutting deep. But on Sirius’s birthday in your fifth year, you’d orchestrated something you hadn’t even told him about until much later.

“You mean when I gave Regulus your gift?” You asked hesitantly, a flicker of guilt crossing your face. “I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do.”

“Didn’t know?” Sirius scoffed, sitting up straighter. “Love, it was brilliant. You handed him the gift and said- what was it again?” He snapped his fingers, grinning. “‘This doesn’t have to mean anything, but it might mean everything.’”

You flushed, your fingers tightening on James’s jersey. “I was just trying to make him see that you cared.”

Sirius’s grin softened, his voice dipping into something warmer, more sincere. “And he did. Merlin, he did. That was the first time we actually talked without shouting at each other. He came to me that night, you know? Told me about the gift- about you giving it to him. Said he’d been wrong about me.”

Your eyes widened. “He never told me that.”

Sirius nodded, his expression serious now. “He wouldn’t, would he? Too much like admitting he was wrong. But he did. And you- ” He leaned closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You were the one who made it happen. You gave me my brother back, even if it was just for a little while.”

You felt the sting of tears again, but Sirius’s grin returned, lighting up the room like it always did. “So don’t you dare think you’re too much, yeah? You’re just enough. Always have been.”

James, still holding you close, huffed dramatically. “Honestly, at this rate, we should start writing all this down. ‘A Hundred Ways She Saved Our Sorry Arses,’ by the Marauders and Co.”

Remus chuckled, his hand still resting lightly on yours. “Might be a bestseller.”

James cleared his throat, his cheeks turning an uncharacteristic shade of pink as he glanced around the room. “Erm, well, like when she, uh, helped me with- ” He coughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Lily perked up, her eyes narrowing with amused suspicion. “Helped you with what, Potter?”

“Nothing!” James blurted out quickly, his voice rising an octave. “Nothing at all! Definitely not learning how to- ”

“Oh, this I’ve got to hear,” Sirius interjected with a wicked grin, sitting up straighter. “Come on, Prongs, out with it. What was it? Dancing lessons? Your terrible piano skills?”

Remus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but said nothing, letting Sirius poke and prod instead.

James groaned, burying his face in his hands for a moment before finally peeking through his fingers to look at you. “You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”

You grinned softly, the smallest flicker of amusement breaking through the fog that had weighed you down all day. “Not a chance.”

James sighed dramatically, throwing himself back against the headboard. “Fine! She- ” He paused, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself for impact. “She helped me learn how to kiss, all right?”

There was a beat of stunned silence, followed by Sirius’s loud, delighted laughter. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as he tried to catch his breath. “You- what?” he choked out between fits of laughter. “She gave you kissing lessons? Oh, this is brilliant!”

“Shut up, Padfoot!” James snapped, his face now a deep crimson. He turned to you, his hazel eyes pleading. “You’re not going to let him tease me forever about this, are you?”

You bit back a laugh, the memory of that day rushing back to you like a warm breeze. “You were hopeless,” You said lightly, a teasing lilt in your voice.

James groaned again, covering his face with both hands. “I wasn’t hopeless. I just... needed a bit of practice!”

“Hopeless,” You repeated, grinning now as Lily let out a soft laugh.

“What’s this about practice?” She asked, her green eyes sparkling with curiosity.

You leaned back against the pillows, feeling lighter than you had all day. “It was fifth year. James had this huge crush on someone- ”

“Lily,” Sirius supplied gleefully.

“Shut it!” James hissed, his ears turning pink now.

“- and he was panicking because he’d never kissed anyone before,” you continued, ignoring James’s protests. “So, he asked me to help.”

Sirius looked like Christmas had come early. “And you said yes? Oh, Prongs, you’re lucky she’s nicer than me. I would’ve hexed you for asking.”

You laughed softly, your voice growing more confident. “It was actually really sweet. He was so nervous. I had to practically drag him to the Astronomy Tower so no one would see us.”

“I’m right here, you know,” James grumbled, though his lips twitched with a reluctant smile.

Remus chuckled quietly, his amber eyes warm as he listened. “So, how did it go?”

You smirked at James, enjoying his obvious discomfort. “He was a fast learner. By the end of it, I think I told him he’d do just fine.”

“You did,” James muttered, finally lowering his hands to reveal a sheepish grin. “And then you told me to stop panicking and just talk to her like a normal person.”

“And did you?” Lily asked, her tone both amused and affectionate.

James grinned, turning to her. “I think it worked out, don’t you?”

Lily rolled her eyes but leaned over to kiss his cheek, her smile softening. “I suppose it did.”

Sirius shook his head, still grinning. “Unbelievable. I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’re out here getting kissing lessons. Prongs, you’re a menace.”

James shrugged, his grin widening. “You're just jealous I got to her first.”

Remus leaned closer to you, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “And you didn’t charge him a single Galleon for the service? You’re too kind.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “It was worth it just to see him blush this much.”

James groaned again, but the warmth and laughter in the room were undeniable, wrapping around you like a blanket. For the first time in a while, you felt lighter- like maybe you weren’t so lost after all.

As the laughter settled, you found yourself leaning into James’s embrace, the warmth of your loves surrounding you like a safety net you hadn’t realized you needed. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet, but with them by your side, you knew you’d figure it out- one day, one step, one laugh at a time.

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sammyluvr · 1 month ago

Text

✶ . ၄၃ . noticed — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, implied depression, feelings of guilt and inadequacy, overall just poor mental health, swearing, 1.1K words. requested !

summary : your depression isn't making things easy for you these days. sam notices and gives you what small comforts he can.

sam can see you slipping. he can see how hard you’re trying not to, how you’re trying to hide it. he lets you, for a bit, because he knows that sometimes you don’t like for anyone else to give it any attention.

but you’re falling behind on research and dean doesn’t know why, so he’s cutting no slack. sam is soft and understanding with you, but he knows he can’t control dean and that you wouldn’t like him to intervene either. all this, and you hate to ask for help, too.

you’re in the library, stuck by your computer and overwhelmed by the amount of books on the topic for this long and tiring case. so you rest your head on the hard wood for a moment, trying to gather energy that you don’t have. then you hear the loud front door swing open, signaling dean’s return from the grocery store. you have to at least look busy, so you drag yourself back up into a sitting position and scan over the pages of a book that you’re not actually reading.

dean passes you with arms full of plastic bags and a half assed greeting. he’s tired from last night, and anything’s fine by you as long as he doesn’t say anything passive aggressive like he does sometimes. you know he’s frustrated with you, wishing you’d find something actually helpful. you just can’t bring yourself to do much of anything at all.

when you’ve finally heard the door to dean’s room shut, after staring at the page and listening to the sounds of him putting away groceries in the kitchen, you drop your head back down, feeling useless and restless but unable to act on it. the next time you hear footsteps, they’re sam’s. you can tell just by listening for a moment or two. he’s taller, but he walks quieter than dean. though his footfalls are a little heavy now, in the comfort and privacy of the bunker.

he approaches faster than you expect and most definitely catches you with your head on the table before you sit up to look in his direction.

the smile you give him when you lift your head is unconvincing and the one he returns to you is soft and understanding. it’s clear to you that he can see you’re unwell. you sigh and your smile fades.

“hey,” he murmurs, all gentle and kind, never pitying but certainly careful. he closes the gap between your seat and the doorway, quietly shutting both your laptop and the book before placing a hand on the side of your head and pressing a kiss to your temple. “let’s take a break, yeah? grab lunch in town, or maybe some ice cream. or both. how’s that sound, honey?”

you purse your lips, feeling loved by the gesture but wanting to do anything except go out right now. you lean into his touch anyway, then after a moment of hesitation, mumble back, “i’d rather stay inside.”

“okay,” he agrees immediately, “we can do that, too. why don’t you sit in the kitchen with me? i’ll make you something simple. dean should’ve gotten the stuff for those sandwiches you like, yeah?” he holds his hand out for you to guide you away from the library.

“alright,” you accept quietly after a moment of just looking at his hand, waiting for you, reaching out to you to pull you up. when your hand lands in his, it’s a little easier to breathe, somehow. he closes his fingers around yours and gives the gentlest of tugs to urge you up. you start to stand and the hand on your head reaches down to pull your chair out for you. his hand stays in yours as he leads you to the kitchen.

he has you sit as he makes a sandwich for the both of you, talking aimlessly about a documentary he watched last weekend but didn’t have the chance to tell you about until now. his voice stays muted and constant, knowing you don’t want anything loud but shouldn’t stay stuck in silence.

he’s right, of course. the lull of his voice keeps your mind off of all else, and you find yourself actually able to pay attention to the words that fall from his lips. it’s nice to watch him, too.

sitting across from you, watching you take the last bite of the simple food he made you, spreads the warmth of satisfaction through his chest. frankly, he’s worried about you, but it’s nice to know that you’ll let him take care of you like this. subtle and easy, but essential. not too loud and not too outwardly worried, but showing he’s noticed and is going to actually do something about it. there’s no judgment in his eyes or his actions, only care and softness and love.

sam’s serious about taking a break. he doesn’t let you go back to that library table to wallow in your self-criticism of being unable to get anything done. he brings you back to his bed and holds you in his arms and kisses the top of your head, maybe more times than he needs to.

“you can tell me when you need me,” he murmurs into your hair, his arms wrapped around your middle. “doesn’t have to be out loud. but if you can, and there’s something i’m not doing that i could be, you tell me, yeah? ‘cause i’ll do it. i want to, for you, honey.”

you take a deep breath in, let it out slow. “thank you,” you whisper, “this helps, really.” and you mean that, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. sometimes, walking away from the things you should be doing just makes you feel worse, like you don’t really deserve to do anything nice. if you can’t do what you should, it feels like the least you could do is sit there and beat yourself up about it.

sam pulls you away from that mindset. his love isn’t burdensome, he lets you believe you deserve it. his arms are a shield and his chest is a place for your head to really rest. he brings you both sleep and consciousness without guilt or anxious embarrassment.

and when you inevitably get antsy again, he notices that, too. he tells you sternly, sweetly, to stay comfortable on the bed as he fetches your laptop and book. once back, he still insists on keeping you settled right against him, your head slotted perfectly into the crook of his neck as he reads the book aloud to you, either until you find something useful or the pages run out.

no matter what, he’ll keep you held, keep you steady in his arms.

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whatifitis · 2 months ago

Text

♡ I See You - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando is under immense stress due to his career and he can't drag down his love with him. Will their relationship survive a horror movie?

Author's Note: This was requested and as soon as I saw it, I was excited to start it and I had so many ideas for this so I hope y'all enjoy it!

WC: 6k+ with some instagram posts

CW: poor mental health, a bit of angst, a kiss here and there, happy ending

-=+=-

479,271 likes

f1 Just one lap could’ve made all the difference for Lando’s race 😣

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User32 Lando needs to stop thinking he ‘should’ve won’ it’s starting to seem a little entitled.. The two ahead of him have 165 wins between them

User33 They completely ruined Oscar’s race

User34 the only thing he brings to McLaren and F1 is shame

User35 Geez people in the comments are so quick to say hateful things but don’t think about how their words hurt, lando is pressuring himself into doing good and yall just wanna hate on him at any chance you get

-=+=-

Liked by bestieusername and others

f1gossip sources close to the couple are saying that Lando Norris and Y/n L/n have split after just 7 months together

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User22 she was just one of the girls he’ll date for like a summer then leave when he’s bored. Can’t wait to see who the next slut is

User67 she lost color in her face since she’s been with him, glad she finally knows her worth

User54 she looked so bored recently, and i mean it’s her right since he practically love bombed her

-=+=-

“I can’t break you when I’m breaking.” - was all you heard before everything went silent.

You and Lando had been together for about 7 months, not all of which was rainbows and daisies.

When you first met, it was like stepping into the sun again after having spent so long in the dark. You had your fair share of heartaches before Lando. It was hard for you to give in to him at first, but after a few weeks, you gave in and you’re grateful for giving not only him, but yourself a chance.

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating him. You knew he was a driver in F1 and that his fanbase could be quite protective of him. You also were aware of his crazy schedule with the races and meetings and training. Lando also told you about how he and his ex had to break up due to the invasion of privacy that was experienced, and how his ex simply couldn’t do it anymore, which is more than understandable. But even with every warning he gave you, you still stayed.

These past few weeks have been chaotic though. Lando is a strong contender for the WDC this year against Max and there’s pressure and eyes all around him. You’ve watched as the media berated him for weeks and weeks, never letting up. Everyone has high expectations of him and it’s slowly destroying him, even if he can’t see it yet.

You won’t lie, it has indeed had an impact on your guys’ relationship. Not only is distance and time difference straining you two, but the constant analysis and comments from the media have taken a toll.

It was obvious to you that Lando would be gone for most weeks out of the year, but now, even when he is home, he’s not fully there. It’s like he’s a ghost in his own home, his own body.

“You’re not breaking me” - you tell him. But you both know you’re lying. As much as you may love him, his distance has been something that has destroyed you. You started to wonder what you were doing wrong, how could you fix this?

“I am, and it’s hurting me so much that I’m doing this to you when you don’t deserve all this shit. You deserve so much more. You deserve all the good things in life, like seeing your partner for more than a week, going to the grocery store without being stalked by fans, having someone who can be there for you, someone who won’t drag you down.” he says, tears streaming down his face. His hands are shaking at the thought of losing you, but he knows he loves you too much to let you down. He’s completely broken now. His heart aches and sinks every time he thinks about how you’re being treated. He doesn’t want to be the person who takes your sparkle, who makes you feel less of a person.

“You’re not. I’m fine. We’re fine, love. I can handle it, all the shit that’s getting thrown at us. We can survive this horror movie.” you try to convince him… convince yourself, as tears are now streaming down your face as well.

“We can’t. I’m not the way I was, I’m not the same person I was when we met.” you watch as he takes a shaky breath in, trying to compose himself, “All I ever wanted was to drive and race in Formula 1. But now that I have it, it doesn’t feel enough. As soon as I joined, so much pressure was put on me to be the best. When I started, the car was shit, so I helped make it better, and I did. I feel like all I’m doing is trying and trying to please everyone and to be who they want me to be, but it’s so hard. And this isn’t what I wanted. I just wanted to race and have fun, not drive myself to the point of destruction. I don’t want to be the machine that the team, media, and fans want me, and expect me to be. I feel like I’m giving my all to the team and to the sport but it’s not enough and it’ll never be enough. I feel like I’m stuck and I can’t get out no matter what I do. The one thing I wanted all my life, and now it’s mine. But it feels like I’m theirs.” he lets out an ironic laugh.

You slowly walk to him, moving to hold his hands in yours. Without missing a beat, one of your hands gently lifts his chin, making his eyes connect with yours.

“They’re feeding you to the wolves and it’s unfair. They cheer your name until the lights go out, then they throw you to the side and disregard you till the next time they need you. They’re not fair to you and it’s draining you. You have a look that I can’t recognize. You used to love this sport with all your heart but now it’s the thing that’s killing you.”

“But I need to keep going. I need to prove that I can be what they want. I need to prove that I’m not just some spoiled, ignorant kid who paid his way to this place. I need to show that I earned my right to be here and to have this seat.” he tries to explain.

“I understand that, Lan. But we need to find a better way to handle all this. It’s clearly taking a toll on you and your health. It’s been a long year. You’re constantly watched and analyzed, with people documenting your every move to create sickening plots for their stories of you, of us. They expect so much, so you’re expected to follow, but that’s not how it’s supposed to work.” He pulls back from you, removing his hands from yours and taking steps back. You watch as he begins to pace the room, shaking his head as he speaks.

“To know me is to hate me, and to hate what I’ve become. It’s to watch me fail over and over again, and I can’t keep doing this to you. I can’t let you hold my hand in yours anymore.” he says as he stops in front of you, trying his best to refrain from spilling more tears but it’s merely impossible. His biggest fear is coming into fruition, he’s losing you. He’s letting you go. He wanted to let you out of this mess before it was too far gone for you to come back to life. You gave him all of your best self and your endless empathy.

“What are you saying, Lan?” you barely let out as a whisper, afraid of the answer.

“I’m letting you go. I know I’m gonna sound like an asshole but I have to do this. All this shit is just gonna hurt you more. You can’t do this to yourself. It’s killing me to know I’m just bringing you down with me.” he practically pleads.

“I stay because I want to, not because I feel forced to or like I have to. I do it because I love you.” your voice cracks with the last bit.

“I’m sorry for all this. I care about you a lot and I hope everything goes well. I hope you get everything you could ever want. I’m sorry for all the mess.”

“Don’t be sorry. You are worth all of the shit. But can you please let me stay?” you beg through tears.

His lips are quivering, tear stains paint his face as he breaks himself in two. Cause truthfully, you will always hold a part of him. Through all the obstacles and shit, you stuck by him.

“Goodbye, y/n.” is all he says before he turns his back on you, walking out the door.

He didn’t even wait for your response, leaving as soon as he could because he knew if he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t have followed through with the breakup.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, in the middle of your living room. You had to watch the person you thought you would marry, walk out the door. You thought he was your forever. You shared your dreams with each other, planned out the house you two would grow old in. The house where you would have rocking chairs on the front porch where the two of you would watch the neighborhood kids run by, yelling at them to stay off the lawn. What dreams those were, dreams that would remain just that, dreams.

For a while after the breakup, all you did was lie in bed either sleeping the days away or doom scrolling on social media. It got so bad that your roommate/best friend had to physically drag you out of bed after a week of letting you rot in it.

The first day of what your best friend liked to call “post breakup, glow up”, you guys decided to just have a self care day where you took it easy and ordered in food and did face masks while coloring in some books.

It was fun and a nice distraction until your phone dinged. The look on your face scared your best friend so she looked over your shoulder to see who it was. Lando’s name was displayed along with a message, “Hey, how you been?”.

Was this how exes interacted after a breakup? Typically after the breakups you’ve experienced, there was no contact. What’s Lando up to? You knew he didn’t keep in contact with any of his exes after their break ups, so why was he texting you?

When you snap back to reality, your friend is giving you a concerned look, wanting to know what was going through your head so she could help in the best way possible.

“Should I text him back?” You asked.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, babe. He still hurt you towards the end of the relationship, although not intentionally, but it still fucked you up a bit. I don’t want you to lose the progress you’ve made.”

“Yeah, I understand. I won’t text him back then.” You tell her as you turn off your phone and throw it to the side, picking up your marker and starting coloring again.

You lied. You ended up texting him back later that night once you were back in bed, ready to end the night with what hopefully would be a decent sleep.

You and Lando exchanged a few texts, mainly just catching up and seeing how the other was. You weren’t gonna lie, it felt nice to talk to him again. But what was this gonna lead to? Hopefully getting back together, but what are the odds?

The occasional text conversations took place over the course of a few weeks. Lando knew he shouldn’t have been texting you, but he couldn’t help himself. The weeks following the break up, he went back and forth on whether he regretted it or not. He wondered if it was the best thing to do.

Every day, he saw you in everything he saw or did. When he goes to get coffee, he swears he can still hear you laughing at the mustache of foam that would appear on his face after his first sip of coffee.

When he’s outside in the park for a run, he’s reminded of you when he sees the rabbits hiding in the bushes. You always used to squeal out of joy and cuteness from the rabbits, even if you’d already seen them about 20 times prior.

Every song, every film, every color reminded him of you. He thought about you every single day, wondering what you were doing and how you were. He even went as far as stalking your Spotify profile. He knew you made playlists for everything and he would watch your listening activity to see what mood you were in.

He wasn’t surprised when he saw you listening to Taylor Swift and Gracie Abrams for hours on end. Those two were your go to sad girls. But he was surprised when none of the songs were about how shit the guy was. All the songs you were listening to were about regretting breakups and just missing someone.

The night he texted you for the first time since the breakup, he had been gaming with Max and a few of his other friends, trying to take his mind off things.

He didn't know what he texted you, he just did. He didn’t even have a plan for what he wanted to say. It turned out all right in the end though. You guys had a peaceful conversation and shared a laugh or two, for which he was grateful.

Maybe you guys could remain friends?

-=+=-

Liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and others

y/n_l/n i’m on my knees at the altar, baby

Asking God to wash you from my soul

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User4 he’s a waste of running mascara, you’re on to greater things

alexandrasaintmeux the most beautiful girl in the world

User97 ummm, what’s lando doing in the likes?! Didn’t they break up…

User23 she was a fool for thinking she could be enough for him

User10 lando leave the poor girl alone, you’ve done enough damage

-=+=-

Everytime he texted you, you came back. He’d ask to try again and you’d say yes. You’d come back to his place and spend nights there, only for him to break things off again. He keeps saying he can fix it and do better. But then he sends you on your own again. He keeps telling you how much he loves you, only to tell you he’s not good enough for you and that you should break up, again.

For two months, the two of you went back and forth. You would break up one week then get back together the next. It felt like a game that you kept losing and you were tired of it.

It felt like you were always taking one step forward and two steps back. Now you know, none of this is fair to you. You keep trying to give him your all, trying to be there for him when he needs it but he still doesn’t change.

You know you’re not falling out of love for him. But you think you have to fully let him go now. Do what he did to you to protect you, but actually block him out after. Instead of stringing him along like he did to you.

It’s a week before the Belgium GP so it’s now or never.

You asked Lando to meet you in your shared hotel room as the Hungarian GP just ended earlier. He’d gotten P2 which is amazing. But he still wasn’t entirely happy with his performance as he thinks he could’ve done better. The team thinks he should’ve gotten P1 and that it would’ve helped gain more points for the championship.

You would’ve preferred to pick a better time to do this, but there is no other time, at least anytime soon. But you don’t want to be stuck here forever, in this loop of false hope.

When Lando gets back to your shared room, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, picking at the skin on your fingers.

“Hey, stop doing that. It’s not good for you.” He gives you a smile as he takes off his shoes and meets you in the bed. As he sits next to you, he lands a kiss on the top of your head and then a kiss on your cheek before finally connecting your lips with his in a sweet, warm kiss.

“You said you wanted to talk to me about something? What’s up? Everything alright?” He asks, a bit of concern laces his words.

You take a deep breath and sit up straight, trying to gain the courage to follow through with your plan.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You say. Lando’s heart drops at your words.

“What’d you mean?” He stutters a bit.

It takes everything in you to look him in the eye as you say “I’m breaking up with you, for good.”

“Oh.” Is all that comes out of his mouth. He’s turned his body forward, staring blankly at the wall as he processes this.

“I’m sorry, Lando. But it’s not fair to either of us. We keep stringing each other along. Hoping for something that’ll never happen. I’m tired. It feels like I’m the only one fighting for us.”

Lando suddenly sucks in a breath of air, furrowing his eyebrows and turning his body to you before telling you “no”

“No? Lando, what do you mean no?”

“No, we’re not breaking up again.”

“You can’t just say no. I’m- I’m making this decision for the both of us. For our best interest, we have to break up.”

“No, I’m not having it. I’m not doing it. It’s you and me til the end.”

“Lando, please can we ju-“

“Nope.”

You sit there dumbfounded at what’s happening. Is he refusing a breakup like it’s a piece of fish?

You sit there and stare at him for a hot minute before crossing your arms and asking “why?”

“Cause”, is all he says before he stands up and goes to take a shower.

Ain’t no way.

You’re so confused and amazed at what just happened. He really just denied a breakup.

As Lando took his shower, you took this time to process what happened and how to go about this conversation again once he comes back.

After about 15 minutes, Lando leaves the bathroom in fresh clothes and stands in front of you, “what’d you want for dinner?”

“Did you disregard my breakup speech?” You stand and ask.

“Yes. Now, where’s the room service menu?” He asks as he pads around the room, genuinely looking for the room service menu.

You bring your hands to your face and roughly rub your eyes to try and approach this correctly.

“Lando, stop thinking about the menu for 5 seconds and look at me.”

He’s stopped dead in his tracks and looks at you innocently.

This guy.

His bottom lip begins to quiver and his eyes become glossed with tears.

With a bit of rasp in his voice he tells you “We’re not breaking up. I can’t lose you again, I won’t do it. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had and pushing you away was awful. I missed your laugh, I missed your jokes, I missed your loose hairs all around the flat, I missed your snoring when I tried to sleep, I missed you. Please don’t go again.”

Tears are streaming down his face as he begs you to stay.

“Lando, we can’t keep doing the same shit over and over again. We break up one week then get back together the next. You tell me you’ll do better and you’ll fix things but nothing changes. You’re still under immense stress and letting people walk all over you. I don’t know how we can survive this anymore if you don’t try to change that.”

You start to wonder if breaking up really is the best solution. You would still be sad about losing him and you would still constantly worry about him. He would still be stuck in this toxic place where everyone puts all their expectations on him. Everyone would still harass him and analyze his every move. What would breaking up really fix?

“Please. I’m standing here trying to be honest. We’re a thousand miles away from the day that we started, and I’m still in love with you. I just wanna forget everything that’s come and gone cause I hate not being with you. The stars don’t shine as bright when you’re not here.”

Slowly, you walk up to him, reaching for the sides of his face and using your thumbs to wipe away some of his tears. He instinctively moves his hands to your hips, holding you as tight as he can, as if you’re water in his hands. You look him in the eyes and realize you love him too much to let him go. You two love each other too much to leave it like this.

“Hey,” you say softly, “why don’t we do this? The Belgian GP is next week, right? You’ll go do that and I’ll go home for a bit. After the Belgian GP, I’ll meet you in Glastonbury, yeah? We’ll spend your break there and we’ll try and sort out whatever’s going on up here?” You ask as you gently tap the side of his head.

All he can do is smile, grateful for you and your patience with his shit. He nods his head yes before pulling you closer and holding you tight, burying his face into your neck.

With a deep breath, you feel Lando relax in your arms.

“Thank you.” He whispers in your neck. He can’t believe he’s able to keep someone as special as you in his life, even with the war in his head.

“We’ll be alright. We’re okay”, you don’t say anything else, just holding him closer, knowing it’s enough for him right now. Maybe you two could try to go back where you started.

Lando booked a flight from Belgium to go back to his hometown almost immediately after the race. He just couldn’t bear being away from you for so long, especially after all the shit you guys have been through, especially after all the shit he put you through.

You decided that since he’ll be landing quite late, the two of you would spend the night watching movies and eating some home cooked food. The beginning of the healing journey could start tomorrow.

When he landed at the airport, he was greeted by you with a massive sign that said “Lando Norris - STD clinic emergency shuttle”.

The amount of laughs that the sign got was a joy to you. Especially the laugh Lando had let out upon reading the sign. He knew you were gonna pull some shit like this, although he was surprised you didn’t wear scrubs to add to the bit.

With a big warm hug, Lando finally felt like he could start to relax and let go, at least until the next race.

The two of you made your way to your car, then headed back to a secluded airbnb that you had rented for the next few weeks. Although the two of you were more than welcome to stay with Lando’s family, the pair of you thought it would be best if Lando had a place with some real peace and quiet to be able to sort through his mind.

During the drive to the airbnb, you put on a playlist that you had made for drives with Lando at the beginning of your relationship. It had been a while since you’d played it, so it was a pleasant surprise for him when he realized what playlist was playing after a few songs.

“I forgot about this playlist. Missed it." He gives a soft smile. The one he used to have before all the chaos had been inflicted. You can tell this little break will definitely bring back at least a small piece of your Lando.

“I did too. Found it the other day when I was clearing my playlists. I added a few more songs as well. I know we usually pick the songs for this playlist together but I thought it’d be nice. Hope you don’t mind.” you tell him, wondering if maybe he’d be upset that you messed with the playlist without him.

“Nah. I like it. Like a bit of a surprise for me.” he says as he shrugs his shoulders. You smile as you look at him for a moment. Your boy is coming back to you, slowly but surely.

“Oh, don’t speed here. There’s always this one fucking guy sitting in a corner, ready to give anyone and everyone a ticket.” he tells you as you turn onto a certain street.

“You know every road in this county, don't you?” you tease, watching as he gets a bit shy.

“Yeah, let’s just say he may or may not love to see me coming. He used to catch me speeding all the time and he gave me too many fucking tickets.”

You just sit there and laugh at him. Of course the Formula 1 driver always gets caught speeding.

Once you pull into the driveway for the airbnb, Lando is smiling, already getting out of the car and closing his eyes, breathing in the fresh air and taking it all in. He’s excited and grateful for this break from the races. As much as he does enjoy the actual racing, all the other factors were pushing him to his breaking point. The sun was collapsing but he didn’t realize until everything came crashing down all at once.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when you close the car door. He starts moving to the trunk of the car to pull out his luggage. You wait by the front of the car, watching him roll his way to you and taking your hand in his as he leads you to the door of the house.

The second you unlocked the door and opened it, Lando ran in like a kid and immediately dropped all his belongings before flopping onto the couch.

Yup, that’s my man.

“You like it? Out of all the rentals available, I thought this one was the best. It’s a bit far from everything and there’s a hiking trail not far.” you tell him, walking to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Lando is rolling on the couch as if he were a dog trying to get into a comfortable position. His head pops over the back of the couch to look at you, “Yeah, seems quite cozy. Thanks for this, darling. I know I don’t really deserve you but I’m really grateful that you’ve given me so many chances.”

“Don’t thank me, love. I love you and I want you to be okay,” his cheeks blush at your words. It’s been a while since you’ve called him ‘love’, “Put something on the tv and lie down for a bit while I prepare dinner, yeah?”

“You sure I can’t help you? I can peel a potato or something… okay maybe nothing as advanced as peeling a potato but I can boil noodles or something.” he chuckles a bit.

“Gorgeous, last time you tried to boil noodles, you burnt the water. I still don’t know how you managed that.” you couldn’t contain your laugh at the memory. It was one of your first dates with Lan and he’d wanted to make you a home cooked meal. Take out ended up being delivered.

“Yeah, alright. We’re watching Hannah Montana.” he said as he flopped his back against the couch.

When dinner was cooked, you and Lando plated the food before moving to sit on the floor in the living area, using the coffee table to eat off.

The two of you continued watching Hannah Montana until the episode where Blue Jeans became ill. Lan immediately changed the show to play the movie rather than the tv series.

“Lan, you do know Blue Jeans recovers at the end of the episode, right?”

“Yeah but he still has to go through the traumatic experience of being bitten by that snake and I just can’t. We’re gonna watch the Hannah Montana movie now and slow dance to ‘Crazier', cry to ‘Butterfly Fly Away’, and dance to ‘You Can Always Find Your Way Back Home’.” he tells you sternly. He's made up his mind and nothings gonna change that. So that’s just what you do.

When Taylor Swift appears on the screen and starts singing ‘Crazier’, Lando jumps up off the floor and leans his body towards you, holding his hand out for you to take. Once you place your hand in his, he pulls you swiftly off the floor, pulling your body close to his. You wrap your arms around his neck while his hands are secured on your waist. The two of you swing your bodies slowly and effortlessly to the melody that’s playing in the background.

When the lyric “you lift my feet off the ground.” Lando does exactly that. He’s gripped your waist and lifted you in the air, bringing a squeal out of you as you were not expecting that. He keeps you above him as you let out a fit of giggles. Once your feet land back on the ground, you fall into Lando, trying to catch your breath. You listen to his heartbeat and hold him tight. He really is your favorite person.

In true Lando fashion, he knows all the words to this song. As he should since he decided it was one of your songs a while ago. You watch as he sings the words to you, and you realize just how truly in love you are with the person in front of you. You would wait forever for him. He’s the closest to heaven you’ll ever be.

Once the song ends, the two of you sit back down and continue watching the movie. You were cuddled up to Lando, wrapping yourself around his arm as he rested his head on yours, occasionally leaving soft kisses.

The beginning chords of ‘Butterfly Fly Away’ play and Lando is already in tears. He’s already buried his head into your shoulder as he sobs about how emotional the song is. “He was always there for her. He tucked her in and turned out the light. He had to do it all alone!”

All you could do to comfort him was hold him close to you and rub his back. You hummed along to the song, Lando loved it when you did that. You never sang in front of him, but when you did, it was like God's greatest gift to him.

The end of the movie was near as the opening chords of ‘You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home’. The two of you were already on your feet, ready to dance and sing along. Lando had even pushed some of the furniture out so that there was more room for dancing.

With some crazy moves and a whole lot of jumping around, you and your love had the time of your lives.

Lando is pointing at you when he sings the lines “‘Cause, when I’m feeling down, and I’m all alone, whoa, oh. I’ve always got a place where I can go.” singing completely off key but who cares, he’s having fun, and so are you.

When the song comes to an end, you’re in Lando’s arms, trying to catch your breath again. But it feels impossible when everytime you look at him, he takes your breath away. The most beautiful man ever is yours? Crazy, really.

You stay in his arms for a moment, looking into those eyes that looked like sunlight was filtering through leaves.

“Home.” he breaks the silence, smiling down at you wholeheartedly. He cocks his head to the side before continuing, “You’re my home.”

It took everything in you not to break down into a puddle of tears at that moment.

Instead, you bring your lips to his, connecting them in a sweet, soft exchange.

After putting the furniture back in place and cleaning the dishes from dinner, you lead Lando to the room you’ll be sharing during this little vacation.

After a quick shower, Lando meets you on the bed, almost collapsing onto it due to the exhaustion he’s been in.

There’s no need to exchange any words at this moment. You just pull Lando into you, watching as he rests his head on your chest and wraps his arm around your waist. You scratch the back of his neck, messing with his curls a bit as your other hand draws patterns on his bare back.

After a minute, you feel Lan relax into you, watching as his breathing becomes shallow and steady. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep and you're thankful. He truly does need sleep, especially for the talk you two will have in the morning.

You follow suit with Lando and fall asleep soon after him. It was the best sleep you’d had in ages.

The sun shines through the thin, cotton curtains that cover the windows. Lando’s chest is warm against your back, his arm wrapped around your torso, keeping you close to him. The steady breathing lets you know he’s still sound asleep. You check the time, reading 7:24 am. It’s still a bit early so you decide to get some breakfast prepared for when Lando wakes up.

You slowly and quietly move out of his arms, careful not to wake him as you know he won’t stay in bed if he knows you aren’t next to him. Once you’re out of bed, you brush your teeth and

make your way to the kitchen.

Breakfast is kept simple, just some overnight oats with some fruit and honey. After a few minutes of washing and cutting some fruit, you watch as Lando emerges from the bedroom, sleep lacing his features.

“I didn’t hear you leave the bed.” he frowns at you.

“Sorry, darling. I knew you were tired and I didn’t want to wake you so soon. But your timing is perfect! I've just finished preparing breakfast.” you smile gleefully, presenting him with a beautiful bowl of fruits and oats.

The smile on his face is enough to brighten the whole room. “Thanks, baby. Looks amazing, as always.”, he walks around the kitchen counter to kiss you.

Once he’s sat down and begun eating, you tell him your plan for the day, or his plan.

“I was thinking we could go on that hiking trail I told you about. Getting some fresh air and some sun could be good for you. We could also talk a bit? About everything?”

You can tell he’s a bit uncomfortable from the way he stiffens when you mention wanting to talk. He was never really one for talking about himself and the things he’s struggling with. He much prefers listening but he knows he has to let you in a bit.

Without looking up at you, he responds, “Yeah. Sounds good.” continuing to stuff his face with his oats.

Once you two had finished breakfast, you put on your shoes and made your way to the hiking trail.

During the beginning of your walk, you decided it would be best to get Lando to feel comfortable before jumping into the whole discussion of him and his mental health. So you begin by asking, “So, Tarkov, how have you been doing in it?”

He looks at you with genuine surprise, wondering why the fuck you’re asking about Tarkov when he knows it’s not your type of game. But, he answers anyway, “Erm, it’s turned into more shit and giggles if anything. A lot of messing with Max and them. Oh, the other day I stabbed Max’s character in the leg cause he stabbed my foot. And then I stabbed him again but his game was glitching so he couldn’t heal. He was actively dying and couldn’t stop it so I shot his guy. Let’s just say he wasn’t exactly joyful about that. But in my defense, he would’ve died anyway. It was a mercy kill.” he laughs to himself.

After almost 45 minutes of walking, you guys stumbled upon a nice lake that was surrounded by trees. There was a shore with some large boulders so you led Lando there for a bit of a break from walking.

You two sat there for a moment before you broke the silence to try and talk to him.

“You know I love you right?” you ask him, watching him look down at his hands and start to fiddle them.

“Yeah.” he responds quietly.

“I want you to be okay, Lan. I can see you being torn apart by everyone and everything. I don’t want to watch you fall because you don’t deserve that.” “It’s hard, being me. I know I should be happy for everything that I have. I mean, I have money, a house, so many fucking cars that I don’t need, a loving family, and the most amazing and beautiful girlfriend. But, it feels like I’m drowning in everything with racing.” - he confesses, his tone is low, matching the way his reality makes him feel so small.

You scooch closer to him, taking his hand in yours, “I know it’s been hard. And you have the right to feel the way you do. You’re the person who gets the most shit right now with the media. They’re all twisting shit to fit their narrative. But you need to keep pushing back, don’t let them walk over you anymore.” “My mind is complicated. But when you’re here, next to me, it quiets a bit. I know that when I’m with you, everything is easy, like a million things can be thrown at me, but at the end of the day, if you’re here, I’ll be okay. I know I sort of broke you, someone I love so much. It’s all me, in my head. I burned us down and I’m sorry I did that to you. I don’t wanna lose you.” “You’ll never lose me, Lan. I’ll keep your hand in mine, until we’re food for the worms to eat, til our fingers decompose. This love of ours isn’t temporary. So I’m not gonna give up on us, on you.” - your hand touches the side of his face, bringing him to meet your eyes before you continue, “I’m still yours, even when you lose your mind and try breaking up with me a million times. None of this is your fault. You’re all I want.”

Tears begin to stream down his face as he leans his forehead against yours, “I just want you to know who I am, outside of the racing and the drama. I don’t want them to see me, just you, cause you’re the only one who understands me.”

You lift his chin so he can look in your eyes again as you say, “I know who you are. You’re the best thing that’s ever been mine, and I’m never letting you go again.”

-=+=-

Liked by y/n_l/n, maxverstappen1, and others

Tagged: y/n_l/n

landonorris baby, you showed me what living is for and i dont wanna hide anymore

Thank you for everything, my love. I wouldn’t be where I am without you 🧡

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User23 now wait a min ✋ how many chapters did i miss?

User54 i told y’all they were fine! No way a couple as in love as them would ever break up

User75 alexa, play ‘that should be me’ by justin bieber 🫠 User13 omg, and the taylor lyrics 😭 she loves taylor swift and he dedicated it to her 😭😭😭😭😭

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redfoxwritesstuff · 2 months ago

Text

All fics contain adult content, read at your own risk. Minors bugger off.

Hate Mail part 1 and Part 2 (Human!Alastor x Reader)

CW: Rough oral, Dub con, rough sex Summary: Alastor has been on the receiving end of some nasty letters at the station. With the help of some rather unique penmanship and a stroke of luck, the culprit finds herself in his crosshairs. What sort of lesson will Alastor teach his little hate fan and how will that change when he uncovers the reason why she is sending him the letters?

Late Meetings (Vox x Reader)

CW: Dub con, Somnophilia, Weirdly fluffy Summary: Vox comes home from a meeting that ran late to find himself entranced by the beauty of your sleeping form, lit by nothing but the dim glow of his screen. *Technically a sequel to Home but not required reading*

Hush Hush (Valentino x Charlie)

CW: Dub/Non con, leaning hard toward noncon, Valentino is in hell for a reason, Valentino is a warning on his own, Mirror sex, belly bulge, suggested nonconsensual recording. Summary: Charlie has had enough of Angel Dust coming back to the hotel broken. She was the princess of hell, surely she could make a deal Valentino would have no choice but to agree to. There was no price too high to buy her friend's freedom but when it comes time to pay the cost, is she willing to?

Antler Play (Alastor x Doe!Reader)

CW: Lightly used incorrect deer facts, ruts and seasons, insertion of an item 100% not safe or intended for insertion, light fem receiving oral, female masterbation Summary: Alastor, having just rode out his rut alone is faced with the startling realization that you, a fellow deer demon in the hotel, have not just come into season but your first season since your death. Alastor is left unable to mate you due to the poor timing but finds other ways to see to your needs and trick your body into thinking the deed has been done.

Mine (Alastor x Doe!reader)

CW: Smut, blood, knots, ruts Summary: Alastor and his Doe have weathered the passing of the seasons, though he has failed to define their relationship and she's been too afraid to ask. Now, Alastor's Rut is upon him and it's time for her to return the favor. *Follow up to Antler Play*

Curiosity (Alastor x Reader)

CW: Sensory deprivation, established situationship, smut, porn with way too many feelings, love confessions. Summary: Alastor overhears Angel Dust telling you about Val's latest thing- sensory deprivation. Curiosity wins out over sensibility.

Not afraid Of A Little Blood (Human ALastor x Reader)

CW: Public sex, period sex, vaginal fingering, licking fingers clean Summary: Out at Mimzy's Speakeasy for a night on the town, Alastor finds himself feeling rather amorous and isn't swayed by your monthly condition or the public nature of the location. You find your will crumbles as he shows he's simply not a man who's afraid of a little blood.

Teaching Him A Lesson (Lucifer x Reader) (Cucked Alastor x reader)

CW: Drunk sex, Dub con due to drinking, cream pie, breakup rebound sex, noncon cucking, fem receiving oral, bondage for Alastor Summary: After being dumped by Alastor, you soothe your heart at the hotel bar. Lucifer is more than willing to listen to your sorrows and even indulge you when you take Angel Dust's advice of fucking your way over Alastor. Unfortunately, when Alastor sees you slip into your room with someone else, he regrets his choice and Lucifer decides to teach him a lesson.

Praise Be Thy Tongue (Lucifer x reader)

CW: oral, fem receiving, slight praise kink Summary: After turning your back on Heaven in favor of the man you had fallen in love with, you present yourself to Lucifer asking that he show you the ways of pleasure…

I Own You (Alastor x Reader)

CW: Suicidal thoughts, suicidal actions, Anxiety, depression, shitty fuckin mental health, Pissed off Alastor, possessive Alastor, Branding, blood as lube, Toxic ass relationships, self doubt, smut, mirror sex Summary: After getting a bunch of comments telling you you're not good enough for Alastor, old demons come back to life in your mind sending you to embrace the coping mechanism that sent you to hell in the first place. Alastor stops your plans in their tracks and is rather displeased by your actions.

Lost Flowers (Lucifer x Human!Reader)

CW: Sex pollen, compromised consent, smut, oral sex, fingering Summary: Imps doing whatever the fuck they did dropped a sex flower in the human world and it's Lucifer's problem as the king of Hell to find it. When he finds it, picked up by you, he has a obligation to help you ride out the effects.

A Pirate, A wench and Whisky (Alastor x Reader)

CW: Closet sex, drunk sex thus murky consent, clothed sex, p n v sex, cream pies, thigh riding, biting, blood drinking Summary: Charlie decided hosting a costume party would be the best way for the residents to celebrate the season and for the hotel to get some grand publicity. Dressing up wasn't optional. Though you were proud of your bar wench costume- not too skimpy but just skimpy enough, not everyone announced their plans.

The result was a bar wench that did everything you could to avoid the red pirate, drowning your anxiety in shot after shot of whiskey only to find yourself cornered by the very man you could hardly look at when you made an attempt to retire for the night.

Titties (Adam x Reader)

CW: Titty fucking, large breasts, Adam being adam, oral, cum shots, facial Summary: Adam and his new, large breasted lover have been fucking like rabbits but you're tired and sore. Adam though, in love with your curves will gladly take the chance to lavish your chest with some affection.

Incomplete Summonings (Demon Alastor/Alastor shadow x Human reader)

CW: Creampie, temperature play, demon summoning, virginity, light blood, Sex with Alastor's shadow, Sex with Alastor, human Vox cameo Summary: You summoned a demon to remove your romantic competition from the equation. When your sacrifice was far too little, earning you only the shadow of the demon you had called, you had to find something else to sacrifice to pay the price.

What's This (Lucifer x Fallen!Reader)

CW: Cock ring, overstimulation, pleasure Dom undertones, wings, Luci a bit in his feels, Begging, praise, multiple orgasms Summary: Lucifer's lover, a newly fallen Angel continues her exploration of sinful pleasure as Lucifer teaches her what the cockring she found in his nightstand is for.

KittyCat (Vox x Kitty!Reader)

CW: Public sex, heats, electric play, collars, public nudity, breeding, creampie Summary: Being a cat demon, you suffered some of the most extreme heat cycles in all of hell. Every few weeks you went out of your mind with the need to be bred. It didn't matter who, when, where or how.

It was a good thing you belonged to Vox. But what happens when your cycle sneaks up on you, slamming into you a little earlier than expected while Vox is at a meeting? Can you make it to your powerful lover before someone else takes you or will you fall for the first male you see?

The Original Dick (Adam x Reader)

CW: Rough blowjob, semi public blowjob, m receiving oral, stalking, reader is a bit craycray Summary: After repeated encounters with Adam at work, through the hole, you have no choice but to follow him in hopes of finding an organic way to meet again. When you're less of a skilled stalker than you thought, you're faced with the repercussions of your actions.

Crash Landings (Adam x Reader)

CW: Rough sex, Dub con, sex pollen, degradation, pussy slapping, fingering, compromised ability to consent Summary: After taking damage to his wings, Adam has no choice but to make an emergency landing in a clearing of purple flowers, unaware of the unique flora of hell. While he waits for his flight feathers to regrow, he's met with some rather unexpected side effects of exposure to Hyperrigidus Purpureus pollen. His luck this extermination had been shit but when a pretty little demoness all but trips over him, he is pretty sure his luck was about to change.

Stuff You like a What?! (Alastor x reader)

CW: Tentacles, gags, edging, orgasm denial, established relationship, suspension, cream pies Summary: As your lover is just about to reach his finish, you complete a dare issued by Angel Dust. The unexpecting words leaving your mouth leaves Alastor's finish in ruins and he is a man that feels an eye for an eye is far too merciful...

Knife's Edge (Human!Alastor x reader)

CW: Knifeplay, stranger sex, smut, creampies, dub con Summary: Stepping away from the party, you tried to get some are. It's a chance encounter with a dangerous stranger that leaves your dress ruffled, your panties missing and you facing some new facts about yourself.

Satin Ribbons (Adam x Reader)

CW: Smut, Adam typical degradation Summary: It was once a year that you got to see your angelic lover. A romantic, or perhaps just sexual, tryst you waited all year for. This year, you dressed yourself in something you hoped Adam would think about all year long.

Quiet In the Theater (Human!Vox x reader)

CW: Power dynamics (Boss/assistant), Public sex, public fingering, public cockwarming, edging. Summary: As a reward for years of diligent service, your boss rewarded you with a movie date. Except, it wasn't a date and you watching the movie was more of a chore... Follow up to: Dressing Room but not required to be read together

Joint Broadcast (Alastor x reader x Vox)

CW: Cheating, Dubcon, brat taming, Anal, double penetration, caught cheating, nonconsensual broadcast Summary: You thought you could have your cake and eat it, too. In this case, your cakes were Alastor and Vox in romantic and sexual relationships. Sure, you didn't disclose your entanglements with the other but what were the odds they would find out? When the unexpected comes to reality, you're left alone with two angry men who could end your existence. They intend to punish you but in the last way you expect…

To the Beat of the Music (Human!Alastor x reader)

CW: Smut, sexual harassment, 3rd person, pussy slapping. semi public sex, smut, creampie. It's fucking. Summary: When a flapper won't take the hint that Alastor isn't interested in her, he has no choice but to shut her up and make a point. Sometimes, punishment can be pleasure.

Package Delivery (Vox x Reader)

CW: Roleplay, Electric stim, Blowjobs, doggy style, p n v sex, she really corny porn dialog, oops I spilled a little angst Summary: After working too many late nights and canceling too any dates, Vox decides to make it up to you with an unplanned surprise. New desires are unlocked and explored as two lovers who’ve been apart for too many nights fall back together.

What’s more romantic than a stiff, cheap VoxTek delivery uniform and a new work laptop, anyway?

Casting Call (Valentino x Reader)

CW: Sex machine, sex work, casting call for adult films Rating: Adult Summary: Having grown tired of scraping by, you attend a casting call for the leading pornography studio in hell. You're surprised to find the casting call takes place with the head director himself, Valentino.

Fallen For Glory (Sinner!Adam x reader)

CW: Glory holes, sex work, Oral (M receiving), fem masterbation Summary: Seven months after your fated encounter with the First man, you struggled to get him off your mind. Even after a unexpected failed early extermination and the broadcasted slaying of Adam on the battlefield, you couldn't get him off your mind as rumors of him being reborn, sentenced to hell himself made it impossible for you to let go.

And then, sitting in the both of the shitty glory hole joint Valentino ran, you heard his voice once again. Rumors were true. Adam lived and your obsession was fueled by nothing more than the taste of him on your tongue.

This was the best day at the office...

Dressing Room (Human!Vox x Reader)

CW: Light cockwarming, Power dynamics, Vox's bad temper, dressing room smut, creampie Summary: Vox was a charming man, the face of the channel and soon enough, the face of the station. It was just a matter of time. But he had a darker side. He was a man that was quick to anger and today, you were tasked with bringing him last minute changes to the show. It's alright though, he offers you a chance to make it up to him.

A Monstrous Broadcast (Monster!Alastor x reader)

CW: Post Stayed Gone Monster Al, Size kink go brr, Blood, DubCon, belly bulge, broadcasting sex, cream pies, cum painting... Summary: You were sent to Alastor's Broadcasting tower to tell him something just in time to catch the tail end of Stayed Gone. Alastor is in a rather unique mood and in terrifying form as he decides the best way to work his excess energy off is with you.

Hot and Cold (Lucifer x Fallen!Reader)

CW: Wax play, Ice play, Ice put inside the body, Oral, It's just smut, don't put ice cubes up your whooha, only use body safe wax for wax play Summary: Lucifer treats his newly fallen love to a picnic and on a whim decides to expand her pleasurable horizons using the ice from the champagne bucket and the wax from the candles.

A follow up to Praise Be Thy Tongue

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fairytaleendingss · 22 days ago

Note

Hey lovely, first, I just want to say I love your work so much. I wanted to request a poly Marauders fic with a female reader who's struggling with schoolwork and is overall feeling depressed. She starts to isolate herself from everyone, her grades drop, and she stops taking good care of herself. I understand this is a heavier topic, but I've been stuck in a slump and would love an angst/comfort fic. Either way, thank you!

Thanks for the request! Generally, I don't mind writing about heavier topics so don't be afraid to ask (hurt/comfort is my favourite thing to write tbh). I'm sorry you're not doing well but I hope this makes you feel a little better.

Overworked

Summary: The boys comfort you when you've been struggling with your school load.

Pairing: Poly!Marauder x fem!reader

CW: Angst, reader not taking care of herself, poor mental health.

—

It was getting dark outside, you noticed, glancing out the window of the library. Silver stars had began to twinkle in the inky black sky and the moon, in it's waning phase was hanging just outside of window, casting gentle rays off light over the table before you.

You didn't know how long you'd been there but from the looks of things, it'd been a while. It had been mid-afternoon when you'd decided to venture into the library for a study session.

Now it was late, it seemed, and your half-written essay sat before you, staring into your soul like it was mocking you. You rubbed your eyes, in an attempt to clear your blurring vision.

You'd been working on this essay for what seemed like days but for some reason, you just couldn't make it work. This was your fourth re-write and you still weren't satisfied. You resigned yourself to the idea that you may have to pull yet another all-nighter tonight if you were going to get it ready for submission in a few days.

It had been like this for weeks. A constant cycle of submitting essays and starting new ones, in preparation for your upcoming NEWTs. It was becoming overwhelming. The work was piling up and this point you were struggling to see the finish line. It felt as though no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't manage to keep up and it was killing you.

You'd barely had time to sleep over the last few weeks and when you did, it was full of horrid dreams of missing due dates and failing exams. You we're completely drained of energy, engulfed by stress and had barely had time to take care of yourself amongst the hours of exam prep you'd put yourself through. Your friends had started to notice it too, the way you'd withdrawn yourself. You'd begun to pull out of group events and stop engaging with conversations on the rare occasions when you did find time to spend with them.

And the worst part of it all is that you'd had to blow of your amazing boyfriends more times than you could count. You were sure it was starting to take a toll on them as well but you were too embarrassed to tell them about what was going on. They were all so naturally smart and got good grades without barely having to try (apart from Remus, of course, who studied like his life depended on it.)

So instead of opening up to them about your struggles and your concerns, you'd taken to avoiding them where you could, which was only proving to fill you with guilt on top of everything else.

You noticed a splash of water drop onto the parchment in front of you but you were quick to wipe it away. You had to remain focused.

You didn't know how much time had passed when you heard the gentle pitter patter of footsteps across the stone floor. You looked up to see the one and only James Potter, eyes scanning the space, clearly in search of something.

You raised a brow at the sight. You weren't quite sure what he was doing here. James rarely entered the library of his own volition. You wondered for a moment if he had gotten lost.

Then his gaze landed on you and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He jogged over to you, placing a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek. Then he crouched down beside where your form was slumped over the desk.

"Hey there, lovely. We've been looking for you everywhere. You missed dinner."

He was looking into your eyes with such affection that they once again, welled with tears. He looked beautiful in the low light of the library. His dark curls were disheveled as usual, flopping down into his eyes, and he was wearing his signature lopsided smile, the one that usually never failed to cause butterflies to flutter in your stomach. However, in this moment in just caused a wave a guilt to wash over you. You didn't deserve him. You didn't deserve any of your wonderful boyfriends.

Sensing your distress, a crease of concern formed between James' eyebrows. He reached out a hand to every so gently brush a stand of hair behind your ear, his thumb hovering for a moment, rubbing small circles in your cheek.

"What's wrong sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry I missed dinner," you pouted, trying to keep your tears at bay. "I didn't mean stand you up again."

"That's okay, love," James chuckled sympathetically. "We're just worried about you is all."

Your bottom lip wobbled at that. You knew you'd been slack in your efforts with the boys recently and it hurt your heart to make them upset like this.

"Oh darling, come 'ere." he tugged you towards him, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his muscular arms around your shaking frame.

This is when the floodgates opened and you found yourself sobbing into the front of James' shirt. You gripped the fabric for dear life as he held you, not taking any notice of the wet patch you were creating on his front. He whispered soft reassurances in your hair, rubbing your back gently and you finally let the emotions wash over you.

Eventually your tears began to slow and you pulled away, sniffling pathetically. You looked into James' hazel eyes, which were now clouded with concern.

He opened his mouth to say something more but you were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps rushing towards the two of you.

"Prongs?" Sirius voice echoed out through the Library. "Are you in here?"

"Yeah, I found her," he called back.

A moment later, the figures of your other two boyfriends peered around a bookcase. The relief melted from their expressions when they took in the sight of year tear stained cheeks.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Sirius rushed towards you and James moved aside to let him take a closer look at you.

"Did someone hurt you? I'll kill them."

This elicited a chuckle from you as you wiped your eyes with a shaky hand.

"No Sirius, I'm okay. You don't have to fight anyone."

"Well thank god for that," Remus sighed teasingly. "We wouldn't want anyone messing up that pretty face of yours, would we?"

Sirius took on a look of mock offense. "How dare you! They wouldn't have time to get a lick in if they hurt our girl."

"Well, luckily you don't have to worry about fighting any imaginary people just yet," you giggled.

Remus took a seat at your other side, happy to see Sirius was able to make you smile. He hadn't caught many of those as of late. As he sat down at the table, he noticed your unfinished essay.

"Darling, tell us what's got you so upset?" he pressed.

You took a deep breath. "I've just been so overwhelmed lately. I just feel like I can't keep up and the work just keeps piling up. I don't know if I can do it anymore."

"Oh, love," Sirius cooed, a deep frown gracing his delicate features. "Why didn't you tell us."

"I don't know. You guys are so good at school. I was just embarrassed I suppose."

Remus reached out a gentle hand to rub your back. "You never have to be embarrassed around us, lovely. We just want to help you. We can't do that if we don't know what's going on."

"I'm sorry," you mumbled pathetically. You felt a bit silly now for ever thinking they'd judge you.

"It's okay, sweets," James muttered. "We'll always be here for you if you need us. No matter what, alright?"

"Yeah," Sirius added. "Even if it means I have to fight someone."

You chuckled, shaking your head.

"There's that gorgeous smile of yours," he exclaimed and placed a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Now, what can we do to help?" Remus asked gently. He had this kind, nurturing aura about him that always had a way of putting you at ease.

You sighed, mentally assessing your list of tasks. "I need to finish this essay but I just can't seem to get to the end."

"It sounds to me like what you need, love, is a good nights sleep. You need to take care of yourself before anything else." He suggested, looking at you sweetly.

"Maybe you're right," you relented. Remus always was the wise one of the group.

"Come on!" Sirius exclaimed. "Lets get you up to bed. James can sneak down to the kitchen and grab you some food and then Remus can help you with your work in the morning. How does that sound?"

He helped you up from your chair and James swung your bookbag over his shoulder.

"That sounds nice," you told him earnestly.

Sirius tucked you under his arm while Remus gently grabbed your other hand in his and you began to make your way towards the tower.

"I have one more thing to ask though," you announced as you made your way through the castle halls.

"Anything," Remus answered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

"When we get back to the dorm, do you think we can cuddle for a bit?"

James turned around to face you from where he was walking ahead, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

"Darling, you never have to ask for that."

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