#that being said though i would NOT want to fight her | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

formula-ghost · 2 days ago

Text

The Driver (FC43 x fem!reader)

SUMMARY: After years of being with your boyfriend, Franco Colapinto, you should feel secure and ready for your budding future. When old anxieties creep in, will your relationship withstand the pressure?

WORD COUNT: 9.5k

WARNINGS: Semi-public car sex (reader and Franco are both switches, fingering, p in v). Angst, mentions of cheating. Heavy mentions of marriage, incredibly Champagne Problems coded but I have to stick to the Måneskin theme. Probably incorrect geographical depictions of Spain. Reader has an anxiety disorder/struggles with mental health. Same universe as Supermodel/RYD (in RYD, Franco’s Aston Martin contract is only one year, so we’re just skipping ahead here).

A/N: You all asked for Franco car sex and instead I gave you emotional pain :) I don’t think I’ll ever stop writing for RYD!Franco, I just love him too much. After this I’ll keep writing for Wildflower and then maybe do a few one shots before the next series perhaps? Either way, hope you enjoy!

TAGLIST: [COMMENT TO BE ADDED TO MY FRANCO TAGLIST!] @scopeiguess @storyteller-le @xivilivix @htpssgavi @wierdflowerpower @justsisse @uncreativetm @ncrsbrg @tillyt04 @amz824 @ellelabelle @aliwritex

If you gonna set fire to the night, baby let me be the lighter

If you’re already high and you wanna fly, I’ll be the hit that takes you higher

If you wanna love when you touch the sky, you can be my midnight rider

If there’s nowhere to go when you wanna go wild, I wanna be the driver

After getting his first multi-year Formula 1 contract—complete with a hefty sign-on bonus—there were three things that Franco Colapinto needed to buy.

The first was a house for his parents.

He led his mother around the massive home, showing her every little detail that he had noticed when he chose it, all perfectly arranged according to her taste. At first, she wasn’t sure what her son was doing; he had wanted it to be a surprise, so he didn’t tell her anything.

“Yes, Franquito, the home is beautiful,” she said, craning her neck to look at the high ceilings, the sunlight from the massive windows illuminating her face. “But why would you buy a house here in Argentina? You’re hardly ever home, you can just stay with us in the off season.”

Franco, like his mother, was a pragmatist. He’d never buy himself a mansion in Argentina unless he had retired from F1 and decided to settle down. But his career was just getting started.

She continued, “I mean, you and YN don’t need this much space—”

“It’s not for us, Mami,” he said, finally letting loose the smile that he’d be fighting all day. He was never able to keep secrets, too much of a chatterbox. “It’s for you.”

“Franco—”

“Mami,” he said, already anticipating her hesitation. “It is the least I can do. I can never repay you for all you’ve done for me.”

“That’s my job. You don’t need to repay me.”

“Maybe I don’t need to, but I want to.”

Tears had begun to well up in his mother’s eyes. She knew it was impossible to stop him. It was every athlete’s dream to make enough money to buy their mother a house one day; she wouldn’t take that from him. “I’m so proud of you, mijo,” he said, enveloping her son in her arms. “You have made me proud beyond measure.”

It was Franco’s turn now to tear up, though he blinked them away and smiled. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I figured something was up,” she laughed, “this house is too much my style for you to buy it. I think YN would like it, though. How is she doing?”

“She’s good,” he answered, unsure of how to proceed. His mother let him pause, knowing he was about to say something. “I’m… thinking about asking her to marry me.”

“Oh, wonderful!” she replied, her smile now stretching ear to ear.

“We haven’t talked about it yet, though. So don’t get your hopes up. She might not say yes.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” his mother questioned. “You’ve been together for years, through thick and thin.”

“I don’t know,” he said, scratching the back of his neck in nervousness. “We just…haven’t talked about it. I’m nervous.”

“Well, don’t ask her until you’ve talked about it. But I see no reason why she’d say no.” She reached out to smooth over a piece of his hair that was stuck up at an odd angle. “Take your time,” she continued. “If you all aren’t ready now, there’s no harm in waiting. You have the entire rest of your lives to be together.”

Franco gave her a weak smile, his expression still plastered with nervousness. “But when you do get married,” she continued, as if it was a fact, “I expect grandbabies.”

He laughed, despite knowing that she was dead serious. That would be a bridge to cross later.

For now, he had a second purchase to make: his first real car.

Franco, despite being a Formula 1 driver, had always been down to earth. When he drove for Williams, they had to fight him over taking the bus every day. Even in his early days, his future had been too unstable to spend all his hard-earned money on something like a flashy car, especially since he’d be away so often that he’d hardly be able to use it.

But now, he knew that the time was right, and he’d more than earned it. So, when Franco woke you up at the crack of dawn to go to the luxury dealership in Madrid to pick up his new car the second that they opened, you obliged him despite the hour being far too early.

As the salesman handed him the keys, Franco beamed as if he was holding his newborn child, his eyes wide with love and anticipation.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered, running his hands up and down along the hood of the flashy luxury car.

You stood back, afraid to even touch this car that was more expensive than your net worth.

“She’s perfect. She’s the most perfect car I’ve ever seen.” He looked up at you, smiling like a giddy child. “Isn’t she perfect?”

You smiled back, amused by Franco’s happiness. “It certainly is a nice car.”

“It’s not just a nice car. She’s a machine.” You chuckled back at him. “Let’s go for a ride.”

You were honestly a little scared of getting in the car. But when Franco crossed over to open your door for you and help you inside, you couldn’t tell him no.

Sitting inside, you had to admit that it was a really nice car. Franco yapped on about the technical abilities of the engine, but it was in one ear and out the other—despite his many years in F1, you couldn’t say you had learned anything about the machines that your longtime boyfriend drove for a living. But you loved to hear him talk, especially when he was this happy, so you nodded as if you were listening intently.

Franco went to back up the car, putting his hand on your headrest and leaning over his shoulder. The move showed off his prominent muscles and instantly melted you. Even after all these years, it was the little things that you never got tired of.

He sped along the highways, giggling to himself as he heard the engine rev and felt the smoothness of the ride. His smile never wavered as he increased his speed and weaved through the slower cars.

He skipped the exit that would lead back to your home, though. “Where are we going?” you asked.

“I want to show you something,” he said, being intentionally vague with his intentions.

You raised an eyebrow. Franco wasn’t one for surprises; he talked too damn much to ever keep them. If he hadn’t told you before now, it must be something serious.

He moved his hand over to hold your thigh, another one of those little things he did that still made you crazy no matter how many times he did it. “Trust me, amor,” he said.

Of course, you trusted him. So when he exited the highway and began driving into the Spanish countryside, you said nothing, instead choosing to enjoy the feeling of his hand rubbing soft circles into your thigh as the trees blurred past you and the engine purred.

After a while he finally slowed his speed, bringing the car up to an empty overlook off the main road. Through the tinted windows, you could see that this place was hidden, nestled off by the trees so that you could only get here if you knew where you were going. The view was gorgeous; miles and miles of lush greenery, and in the far off distance, the city that you had just left.

“Wow..” you whispered. “How’d you find this place?”

“I used to run on these roads out here when I was younger,” he said, admiring you as you admired the view.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I don’t get to come here much anymore,” he said. “I never thought I’d come back here one day as a Formula 1 driver.”

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. His face had the slightest tinge of blush, so subtle that only you could see it.

“Come on, let’s get a good look,” he said, turning off the engine and opening his door.

You got out of the car and softly gasped again when you saw the view with your own two eyes, rather than through the tinted glass. It left you breathless.

You sat cross legged next to Franco on the grass, taking in the sights of the countryside around you. For a while you were quiet, just soaking in the sounds of nature.

Then Franco broke the calmness. “Have you ever thought about getting married?”

His voice was soft, but his words startled you. “Married?”

“I mean, we’ve been together for a while. About time, no?”

Truthfully, you had thought about marriage quite a bit. The mere idea of it scared you. And talking about it scared you even more.

“You sound enthusiastic,” you joked.

“You know what I mean.” He looked down, clearly also nervous for this momentous discussion. Still, he kept his voice light and steady. “I love you. I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“I’d hope not,” you chuckled. But your attempts at diffusing the tension with humor failed.

He adopted a more serious tone. “YN, I want to marry you,” he said. His eyes looked up to meet yours, and for some reason, you felt your heart drop into your stomach. “I’m not proposing right now, but it’s something we should start thinking and talking about.”

You looked out into the distance and took a shaky breath. Why was this so difficult?

“So, talk to me, amor,” he said.

“You want to marry me?” you asked, your voice small and squeaky.

“Of course I do,” he replied, brushing your hair out of your face. Now there were no barriers between you. “You’re the love of my life.”

You wanted to cry. “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t know. It’s just so…final. What if something goes wrong?”

“Then we work through it, like we always do.” He was right. Your relationship with Franco had certainly had its rocky patches, but he treated you like a queen. You two overcame every obstacle, including your own mind that often worked against you. You often felt like you didn’t deserve someone so patient and kind.

“Things change when you get married.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m not saying any of this lightly. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

Even after years of loving him, it still surprised you whenever Franco told you that he thought of you. You could never get used to existing in his head when you physically weren’t there.

“What do you think about?” you asked, moving closer to him.

He reached his arm around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. “I think about you, in a white dress. We’d be in the church in Argentina.” You knew the one. He’d gone there growing up, and had shown it to you several times when you went to visit his family. “And we’d have a ridiculous party, into the morning,” he said smiling, leaning his head down closer to you. “And, a while after that, maybe a few months or a year or so, you’d be eating for two.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop your eyes from watering. “That sounds…”

“Perfect?”

No. You were going to say real. That sounds real. And it scared you.

Truthfully, you could imagine the wedding, and the babies, and the many happy years of being Franco’s wife.

But you could also imagine the distance. The exhaustion. The bitterness.

“Growing up, I never thought I’d get married,” you said, shifting the conversation. “I just… I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to marry me,” you laughed.

“I do,” he said. The effect of his words weren’t lost on you; the same words he would say to take the vow. “I want to marry you.”

You had told him a long time ago that your insecurities weren’t something he could fix. He remembered that, and he respected it. But still, it always broke his heart when he realized that even after years of loving you, those old wounds refused to heal.

“Why?” you asked. Your head was beginning to hurt from holding in all the tears.

“Why?” he echoed, incredulous at why you’d even need to ask such a ridiculous question. His voice held no malice, though. “Because I love you.”

“Don’t you get tired of this?”

“Of what?”

“Of…me being difficult for no good reason?”

“You’re not being difficult. Marriage is a huge deal, obviously. I don’t want us to rush into it if you’re not ready.”

“What if I’m never ready?”

He sighed. “Then…well, honestly, that would break my heart. I’d want you to work through whatever is holding you back. But I’d be with you every step of the way.”

You looked away into the distance. Part of you wanted to run and disappear in the thick foliage of the Spanish countryside. The other part of you wanted to bury your head in Franco’s chest, finally letting go of all the reservations that had haunted you for years.

You knew Franco. You loved Franco. You trusted Franco.

So why were you still so afraid?

“Mi amor,” he said, gently guiding your head so you had to look at him. “Do you want to get married?” He tilted his head closer to you.

You knew what he was asking. Not if you were ready right now, not if you were scared; but deep down, in your heart of hearts, did you want to marry Franco Colapinto?

“Yes,” you whispered. Just as he didn’t have to explain, neither did you. He knew what you meant; yes, but I’m scared. Yes, but I’m not ready. Yes, but I’m afraid I’ll never be ready.

He brought his lips to yours, gently kissing you as you let the few tears that had been welling up in your eyes finally go. When he pulled back, he wiped them away.

“We don’t have to make a decision now,” he said. “We’ve got time. I want us both to be ready.”

You kissed him again, this time more forceful. There was nothing sexier than a man with emotional intelligence.

He pulled away again to finish his thought. “Just keep thinking on it, okay? We can talk about it as much as you want.”

“Okay,” you said, smiling as he looked at you.

“What?” he asked, his own playful smile dancing across his face.

“You’re so hot when you respect my boundaries.”

He laughed. “Mi amor, that’s the bare minimum.”

“Keep going,” you joked, “I’m so close.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, leaning down to kiss your neck. “I’ll start misbehaving.”

“Maybe I want you to,” he said, sharply inhaling as he gently bit the skin on your neck, sure to leave a mark.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he nibbled on your earlobe.

“Get me home and show me how horrible I am, then,” you teased, reaching out to touch his waist.

“We don’t even need to get home.” He reached up to hold your neck with one hand as he continued kissing up and down your jaw.

“Here?” you said, darting your eyes around.

“In the car,” he said, his voice already getting breathy.

“No,” you urged. “It’s new.”

“Exactly. We have to break it in, no? Or bless it,” he said. His hands were beginning to roam underneath the hem of your shirt now.

“You’d never forgive me if I messed up the seats.”

“They’re leather, it cleans easy. I can get it detailed.” He stifled your next complaint with a deep kiss. “No one is ever around here. And the windows are tinted,” he whispered into your mouth.

You laughed. “You’re a freak.”

“I’m your freak. And don’t lie, you love it,” he said, snaking his hand down to tease its way under your skirt. “I can tell how much you love it.”

You stopped him before his hand could go any further—after all, you were technically still in public.

“Get in the car, whore,” you joked, before Franco hopped up and nearly sprinted to open the car door and set his seat back as far as it could go.

He sat in the seat and patted his lap. “You joining me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, getting up to meet your lover at the car and carefully climb onto his lap, occupying his lips with a deep kiss that he moaned into.

“Did you plan this?” you asked.

“Plan what?” he said, a devilish grin across his face.

“Bringing me out to your scenic spot to fuck me in your new sports car?”

“Wasn’t planned at all. I’m a spontaneous man.”

“Mhm. How many other girls did you bring here before we started dating?”

“Less talking, more fucking, yeah?” he said. You probably didn’t want to know the answer. But that was all in the past. Franco was yours—he had been for years now, and he wanted to be yours forever.

There would be time to think about that later. Right now, all you could think about was the beautiful boy sitting beneath you, looking at you as if he needed you as simply as he needed air. You could feel him hardening beneath you.

You shifted your weight to straddle him, grinding down on his length, eliciting a sharp exhale from him.

“You’re so needy today, Franco,” you said as you ran your fingers through his soft curls.

“I’m always needy for you.” He brought his lips back to yours, hungry for the taste of you. His lips trailed down to your jaw and neck. “YN, you don’t know what you do to me…”

“I think I can feel it,” you joked, softly grinding your clothed pussy over the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Don’t tease me,” he begged, roaming his hands up the hem of your blouse.

“But it’s so fun,” you said, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “I love to see you fall apart underneath me.”

“Fuck, YN—”

“Less talking, more fucking, no?” you said, mocking his statement from earlier. You met his mouth in a kiss, and he moved his hands down under your skirt, running up and down the soft skin of your thighs. When he finally teased his fingers over the wet spot that was already growing in your panties, you softly inhaled, showing your desire for him.

“I’m not the only needy one,” he teased, breathing in the smell of your perfume and shampoo, his head buried in your neck.

You softly moaned as he moved your panties to the side and began circling his fingers around your clit.

“Franco, fuck…”

“What happened to all that talk, huh? Or are you too busy trying not to cum on my fingers?”

All you could do was breathe as his fingers found their way inside of you, pumping in and out to prepare you for his cock.

“Don’t try to stop it,” he said, “let go. Cum for me.”

You obeyed, your legs shaking as your walls pulsated on his fingers. You whimpered into his neck, steadying yourself by holding him.

He kissed your cheek, but wasted no time in unzipping his jeans and plunging into you while you rode out the waves of your orgasm. He let out a breathy moan as he felt the sweet warmth of you wrapped around him.

You were overcome with sensation; the burn of his cock stretching you out, the last dregs of pleasure now mixed with the pain, and the burn in your legs from sitting in the same position for too long.

It was all the more motivation to bounce up and down on his cock, finding a steady rhythm as he guided his hands to your hips.

You rested your head next to his, moaning into his ear with every thrust. The small space of the car may be cramped, but you couldn’t help but appreciate the intimacy of the moment. Franco’s eyes were closed in sensual bliss, his breath ragged as you increased your speed.

You wanted to watch him come undone from the sinful pleasure that your pussy brought him.

“YN—” he moaned, his hands digging hard enough into your hips to leave bruises, “Oh, God, YN, you always feel so fucking good. So good for me.”

You whimpered from both the praise and the pleasure. You had to slow down—the fast stamina was too much on your legs, which were now burning from the awkward position you were stuck in.

“I think you were made for me,” Franco whispered. “And I was made for you. See how well we fit together?” He took control, lifting you up as if you were weightless and bouncing you up and down on his own. You yelped at first, then your surprise gave way to bliss as you both chased your release.

But Franco was relentless in his praise. “You’re my fucking soulmate. I wanna fuck you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“Franco, I’m so close—”

“Cum for me, mi amor. Again.” His own voice was strangled with desire, so close to his own peak.

With a high pitched whine, you obeyed, and the heavenly feeling of your walls contracted around him brought your lover to the edge soon after.

And when you did both finish, you held each other, too tired to even move from the uncomfortable position from the car.

Franco was a talker. You always knew that. He loved nothing more than to fill your ears with sweet nothings when you made love. But the context of the conversation that just transpired weighed on you, even with the comfort of Franco’s hands rubbing small circles into your back as you both tried to catch your breath.

“You okay?” he asked, and you murmured in response, unable to form any coherent words in the aftermath of everything. “Let’s get home and we can take a shower, yeah?”

A warm shower sounded heavenly right now. You awkwardly shimmied your way into the passenger seat and took one last look at the view, thankful that the overlook was still deserted. You sighed as you settled in and buckled your seatbelt, relishing the relief of finally being able to stretch your legs.

“Hey,” Franco asked as he readjusted his seat and turned on the car. “Are you okay, really?”

“Yeah,” you said. It was true; you were exhausted, overwhelmed, and hurting, but it was all worth it for him.

He leaned over to kiss your cheek and smiled before putting the car in reverse.

The third item that Franco had to buy was the ring.

Truthfully, the conversation hadn’t gone as smoothly as he would have liked. In his dreams, you'd jumped for joy when he’d broached the subject, and you’d live happily ever after.

But despite his disappointment, he understood your hesitancy. He was just as afraid to ask the question as you were to say yes. He knew that your struggles with self esteem and anxiety were lifelong. He knew all this about you from the very beginning, and he loved you anyway.

Still, it was times like this when it broke his heart that he couldn’t fix it.

It didn’t matter. You’d come around eventually, you always did. And you had been honest when you said you wanted to marry him—there was just a lot of stuff in the way, mentally and emotionally.

So yes, he’d wait a while before he popped the question. But that didn’t mean he had to wait to buy the ring.

He knew the exact one. You had fallen in love with it years ago, when you had worn it in a PR shoot for one of his high profile sponsors. Though time had passed, he still remembered the sadness in your eyes when you had to give it back after the photoshoot. He had vowed to himself that day that he’d earn enough to get you that ring.

And now he finally had.

A few days after your conversation, he found the now faded card that he had stuck in his wallet and called the number. When the same brand rep picked up, he exhaled, letting go of his fear.

“Franco! How nice to hear from you. I was beginning to think we’d scared you away.”

“No,” he laughed. “The opposite, actually.”

“Let me guess. You’re ready for that ring?”

‘How’d you know?”

“I’ve been doing this a long time. When a woman looks at a ring like that, and she’s with a man that truly loves her, it’s just a matter of time.”

He had swiped another ring of yours to get the measurements, and he completed the entire order over the phone on his drive back home from a day of pre-season meetings. He had three months before the beginning of the new season, and he wanted to propose before that so you could start wedding planning once the season started. Would three months be enough time for you to think about it? He didn’t know.

But he couldn’t wait any longer. The giddiness was eating him alive.

You could tell something was amiss, but the idea of a proposal was the last thing on your mind.

Franco was hiding his phone from you. Which meant that Franco was hiding something important from you, and he was doing a horrible job of it.

Your lover was never the type to be quiet or secretive about…anything really. He talked too much. You had to physically restrain him every Christmas from spoiling what he got you weeks in advance. So if there was something that he was truly trying to hide, it was something major.

And it scared you.

The thought that you had been holding back for years finally broke through one night where he put his phone face down at the dinner table after his phone lit up with several notifications.

“Who’s texting you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice innocent despite the rush of dread that was rising in your stomach.

“No one,” he answered, too quickly for your liking. You didn’t respond.

You knew Franco was attractive. Every girl would kill to have him. He was kind, funny, beautiful, and flirtatious. But he was yours. Right?

Franco had never crossed the line before. You trusted him with your life. But something within you just felt deeply, deeply wrong, and it came spilling out later that night when he tried to touch you.

His phone was left on the nightstand, untouched since dinner; his focus was on you, running his hand up and down your side, gently dressing his lips to your shoulder as you faced away from him.

“Not tonight,” you whispered, unable to keep your voice from shaking.

“All you alright, mi amor?” he asked, pulling back your shoulder to make you face him, seeing how you were desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.

“I’m fine,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek.

Even after all your years together, Franco never quite knew when to press on and when to keep quiet when you said those two infamous words. And he didn’t have much time to think, because you rose from the bed and left the room, mumbling about needing a minute to get fresh air.

You stepped onto the back porch and took a deep breath, steadying your heart rate and calming your nerves, if only for a moment. The night air was serene; you felt vile contaminating the peace with your anxiety.

Would this last forever? You couldn’t remember a time when you hadn’t felt this push and pull. You wanted to tell Franco to go, to relieve himself of the burden of your mental illness. You wanted to bottle up every insecurity, every doubt, every negative thought into a vault that you didn’t share with anyone.

But you couldn’t. If Franco left you’d be broken. You couldn’t stop yourself from letting these thoughts and fears control you. In the past, therapy had helped, but you knew this was a weight you’d always have to carry. And that made you miserable.

So yes, maybe it was for the better that Franco move on, find someone better, more stable, and build a life with her.

“Mi amor?”

Franco’s voice broke your hopeless contemplation.

“Talk to me,” he said.

You just shook your head. He must be so tired of reassuring you, endlessly, knowing that it didn’t help one bit.

“YN,” he urged, “you know I don’t like it when you try to shoulder everything alone.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. That was all you could say. “I’m sorry that I’m like this.”

“Like what?”

“Impossible.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. We have the same conversation over and over again. Don’t you get tired of it? Of having to reassure me and it never helping? Of me crying over every little thing? Franco, I’m a mess!”

“YN…” he sighed, “When have I ever said any of that?”

He was right. He had never expressed any frustration regarding your mental struggles. He had always been there when you needed him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Have you just been up in your head, or did something happen?”

You contemplated lying, but you knew better. “You set your phone face down at dinner.”

“I— did you think I was…?”

“It’s not you, Franco. It’s never you. That’s the worst part. You have to deal with all of this and it’s not your fault at all,” you said, not even allowing him to say aloud what you both knew was true.

Franco took a deep breath. “YN,” he said, calmly, “let’s go back inside and go through my phone.”

“No—”

“Yes,” he commanded. “I want you to be 100% confident that I love you and only you.”

“Franco—”

“Let’s go.”

He had a firmness in his voice that only made your anxiety worse, and immediately you felt horrible for even insinuating anything to the opposite. But he was your rock of reason in times like these when your anxiety took over, and so you followed his command, unlocking his phone when he handed it to you.

As expected, there was no incriminating evidence, just far too many unopened emails and messages left on delivered. Even his recently deleted texts showed nothing.

The buzzing that you had been so afraid of turning out to be…emails from a jewelry company?

“I ordered a custom necklace for your birthday,” Franco explained. “They’ve been so difficult, though. They lost the order and then sent me the wrong thing. It’s been hell.”

You handed back the phone with your head hung low, ashamed. “I’m sorry I ruined the surprise.”

“You know I would have ruined it beforehand anyway,” he said. “I’m not upset at you.”

“You should be. You deserve someone who trusts you.”

“You do trust me,” he said, “I know you do. It’s not you that’s saying this.”

Fuck. Franco really did know you too well.

“You know why I stay with you, even with all this?” You looked up at him, curious for the answer. He had never been this direct before. He continued, “Well, first of all, because I love you. But even during times when I’m frustrated, I remember everything we’ve been through, when you forgave me and were there for me when I didn’t deserve it. I was so close to losing you and it terrified me.”

Once again, your eyes were watering. He said, “I promised myself that if you really gave me a chance, I’d never forget it. I’d be there for you and be the best boyfriend I could be. Because…” he paused, searching for the right words, “I know that some of why you feel these things is because of how I acted in the past. I’ve done my best to make it right, but some things never leave you.”

“When did you become so damn wise?” you said, laughing through the tears as he smiled and wiped them away.

“You bring out the best in me.”

The conversation was laid to rest then. Franco held you until you fell asleep, safe in his arms. As he heard your soft breaths even out, he grabbed his phone and frantically searched for a necklace to buy to cover his lie.

He hated lying to you, but in this case, what else was he to do?

The necklace and the ring arrived a few weeks later, right before you all were scheduled to take a flight to Buenos Aires to spend the rest of the break with his family.

But he had a plan. The break in Buenos Aires would be one to remember—for your “birthday” he was also flying out your friends and family for a few days. He had the whole idea plotted out, with help from many others, to plan a surprise karting birthday celebration, with all your loved ones there. Then, he would propose.

It seemed so perfect—surrounded by all your loved ones, doing a fun activity, the perfect balance between public and private. He knew you’d love it. He knew you’d say yes.

He was giddy as he carefully packed the two jewelry boxes in his luggage, surrounded by clothes for safe keeping.

And as the day of the birthday party came closer and closer, he could barely hold in his excitement. Everyone knew but you; he had colluded with every guest, telling them his plan and getting their blessing to finally ask you to spend the rest of your life with him.

Everything was perfect. The day before, you parents and friends arrived, and Franco told you everything but the grand reveal.

He gave you the present, a beautiful necklace that complimented your tastes perfectly. You split a bottle of wine amongst loved ones, and your parents brought out their own gift: a photo album of pictures that they’d never been able to show Franco.

You cringed at the embarrassing baby photos and records of bad middle school haircuts, but you couldn’t help the tipsy smile on your face. You leaned your head on Franco’s shoulder as he flipped through the pages.

Franco’s mother got out her own photo albums, showing picture after picture of him as a baby, his blonde curls and toothy grin smiling from ear to ear.

“You were such a cute baby,” you giggled, and he blushed.

“Were? I’m still a cute baby,” he joked, kissing you on the cheek. You scrunched your nose and smiled.

You were so in love with this man that it hurt.

That night, when you all retired to your room, he rubbed your back, enjoying the simple quiet between you two.

“I love you,” you said to him out of the blue. He smiled; he said those words often, and you always said them back, but it was rarer, more meaningful, for you to say them unprompted.

“But it’s not fair. You were a cute baby and you’re cute now. You can’t have both,” you giggled.

“We’d make cute babies,” he teased, and you blushed.

“You trying to find out?” you responded, the alcohol in your veins giving you more boldness.

“Not when you’re this tipsy,” he said. “Besides, I need to put a ring on your finger first.”

At the mention of marriage, you sobered up quickly. You hadn’t really been thinking about that conversation you’d had back in Spain—in fact, every time you thought about it, it just made you more anxious, so it had the opposite effect of you actively avoiding it.

Of course, you were still scared. You loved Franco more than words could say, and that was the problem—it was so good that eventually, it would have to not be good. It was a backwards logic, yes, you had convinced yourself that at some point, things would only be able to go down.

You didn’t want to lose this beautiful thing you had created. But Franco had said he wasn’t planning to propose any time soon, right? In your mind, you still had plenty of time.

But Franco did not, and the next morning was chaos.

His phone was blowing up with last minute organizing and words of encouragement from your friends and family in the proposal plan group chat. He was sweating bullets, constantly checking his pockets before you all left for the kart track to make sure that yes, he had the ring. He contemplated putting it in his bag instead, but he didn’t want to lose it, so he ultimately settled on his pockets.

He knew that he needed to stop checking them or else you’d notice and ask. You were always observant, in that way.

But every time he sat down, the stupid box kept falling out of his shorts. The pockets were too small. He’d just have to check one last time before he left the house and be careful. Yes, everything was going to go according to plan.

And as you all arrived and he changed into his race suit quickly, all he could think about was the speech he had tried to memorize. You were a woman who appreciated words; he wanted to express how you made him feel, but in his head, he kept stumbling over them.

YN, you make me so happy. No, too simple.

YN, will you make me the happiest man in the world? No, too cliche.

YN, I never knew happiness until I saw your smile. No, too melodramatic.

He’d have to figure out the words as he said them. For now, he’d just focus on enjoying the moment with you.

And that wasn’t hard; you were as giddy as a child as you sped around the track, spinning out and pushing the poor kart to go faster and faster.

Franco had arranged a tournament of sorts; of course, he had spoken with everyone beforehand to rig you as the winner.

On your end, you knew everyone was letting you win. You were awful at karting. But it was your birthday event, after all. You didn’t care, you were having fun.

It came down to the “championship” battle: you versus Franco. Of course, you knew your boyfriend would let you win, as he always did, but you loved the rush of adrenaline as the wind whipped past you anyway. You couldn’t stop smiling as you crossed the finish line and took off your helmet, flipping your hair out.

You heard Franco stop his car behind you and get out, too.

“I can’t believe YN won!” Franco’s mother said, smiling wide.

“Thank you all for so graciously giving me that win,” you joked, looking to all your family and friends circled round, cheering for you. Franco was behind you still. You almost turned to him, but his mother interrupted. “Let me take a picture!”

This was the moment. All he had to do was take the ring out of his pocket and get down on one knee.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out… nothing.

His pockets were empty.

He looked back at his father, the fear of God in his eyes, and patted his empty pockets. No one said a word.

His mother, now done with taking the picture, leaned over to give you a hug. She sent a death glare to Franco over your shoulder, but still gave him the time to sprint back to the locker room to try and find the goddamn thing.

He ran faster than his F1 car could drive, cursing under his breath at how stupid he could be. He could still save this, though.

He found his bag and shook out the contents, frantically searching, until finally, at the bottom of the bag, he saw the box. He must have stuck it there while changing and forgot about it.

He let out a breath with enough power to shake the entire building. He opened the box to get a quick glance just to make sure everything was okay.

Except, everything wasn’t. There was no ring in the box.

He had grabbed the empty necklace box.

Knowing you were far enough away to not hear him, he sweared very, very loudly. Unbeknownst to Franco, his father had followed him back to the locker room.

“Did you find it, mijo?”

“I brought the wrong box,” he said, “This is for the necklace.”

His father sighed. “Franco…”

“I know, I know.”

“We can still fix this. Give her the ring at dinner!”

“I guess I’ll have to,” Franco said. He had never been more disappointed in himself. He had ruined everything.

“Hey,” his father said, “chin up. You’ve still got this. The ring will be the perfect end to the perfect day, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, still not entirely convinced. But you would be wondering where he went soon; he couldn’t stay and mope too long.

His father left him to go relay the information to the rest of the group. Franco took a few deep breaths as he changed, mentally readying himself to see you again. He put on a smile as he saw you waiting for him outside the track with the others.

“So, we’ll all head back and get ready, then meet for dinner tonight?” his mother said.

“Sounds good,” Franco answered, wrapping his arm around you as he walked you back to the car.

Thankfully, when you got back to his parent’s house, you immediately wanted to take a shower and wash your hair, giving him time to search the entire room. Which he did, from top to bottom, and he still couldn’t find the ring.

It was just…gone. He had gone through every compartment of his suitcase, every pocket in his clothes, every hiding space. Still, it was nowhere to be found.

His parents even helped him look, carefully parsing through every possible place until it was too late. You were nearly ready for dinner, and they all had to rush to get ready to make it to the restaurant in time for the reservation.

Franco texted the groupchat the horrible news—he had fucked up. He had lost the ring. There would be no proposal.

Kind words flooded his phone, but they meant nothing to the depressed Argentine. He had planned this out so perfectly; how did it end so badly?

And the worst part? He couldn’t even tell you.

The atmosphere at dinner was more somber than usual. His sister had bought a bottle of nice champagne that would now have to go unopened. He would just have to propose some other time.

That’s what he reminded himself, every time the thought came up and threatened to choke him. Maybe next time he would fly his family out to Spain instead. He wasn’t in any rush. And you’d never have to know how badly he fumbled.

Well, while you didn’t know the details, you could tell something was up. You mentioned it to Franco on the way home.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, and Franco cringed internally. He was always bad about hiding his emotions.

“No, I’m fine,” he answered.

“Well, everyone at dinner just seemed…off.”

“Probably just tired.”

You just hummed to yourself, refusing to allow your thoughts to wander any further. You, too, were tired. When you got back to the house, you both started to get undressed, taking off your fancy heels and jewelry.

You took off your necklace—the beautiful gift that Franco had given you, that you’d now treasure forever—but the box wasn’t on the nightstand where you had left it yesterday.

“Franco, have you seen my necklace box?” you asked from the bedroom. He was in the bathroom washing his face, and only barely heard you over the running of water. The mention of the box just made the whole night worse.

“Yeah, it’s in my bag,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow. How had your necklace box ended up there?

You leaned down to his bag, rustling around until you found the familiar box, though it was heavier than you remembered.

When you opened it, you were nearly blinded by the glint of a beautiful diamond engagement ring.

It was familiar; the same ring you had fallen in love with years ago. And it was in Franco’s bag. He had…bought you an engagement ring.

He was going to propose.

You could feel your heart rate increasing by the second. But you weren’t ready. You had only talked about it a few weeks ago. You were scared.

It was okay, though. It was okay. You would just put the ring back. You’d find a way to hint to him that it wasn’t the right time. You could just fake it. He’d never have to—

“YN?”

You looked up at Franco’s face, widened with shock. You didn’t respond.

“Where did you find that?”

“In your bag.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I—” Franco was too stunned to speak. You quickly closed the box and put it back in the bag.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see anything. This never happened,” you said, your voice rapidly talking without even thinking. You got up to leave the room, too anxious to stay seated, talking to yourself even after you were out of earshot of your lover.

Franco sat on the bed and sighed. Now he had majorly fucked up. First of all, how had no one found the ring in his bag, even after 3 people looked in there? And second of all, how did you find it?

But that wasn’t the biggest issue anymore. His plan had already been ruined, but he knew by the look on your face that your surprise was not a good one. He saw that fear that nestled itself into every crevice of your expression.

You weren’t happy to find that ring. Not because it had ruined the surprise element—you just didn’t want him to propose.

He now had two options. He could do what he knew you’d want: act as if nothing ever happened and never broach the subject of marriage for several years to come, allowing you to shove away all those scary feelings until you’d deluded yourself into thinking you were over it.

Or, he could do what he needed to do, and talk to you.

He took a deep breath and followed you outside.

You were sitting on the back porch. Not crying, just quiet, looking out into the backyard. When Franco sat next to you, you didn’t say anything. He reached out to grab your hand, and you let him, softly admiring how he curled his thumb around your palm in soothing circles.

“The plan,” he began, “was to ask you today. At the karting track. But I brought the wrong box.” He softly smiled at the absurdity of it. “When you were getting ready we were all frantically looking for it. I don’t know how we missed it.”

You just hummed in response, unsure of what to say. You needed to be honest. You needed to say the difficult things.

You began, though your voice felt choked. “Franco, if you would have asked me today, I would have said no.” You felt his hand tense up. “I mean, I would have said yes, because everyone was there. But…”

You trailed off, your words fleeing from you now.

“I don’t understand,” Franco confessed. “We’re happy. You’re happy with me, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“Then why don’t you want to marry me?” His voice dripped with sadness, and all you wanted to do was hold him. You turned your head to face him, and the deep sorrow in his eyes nearly brought you to tears.

“I do want to. I just…”

“I’ve done everything I can to be good to you. I’ve tried to always be there. I know I’m not perfect, but—”

“It’s not you, Franco. It was never you.”

“Then why? What can I do?” His voice cracked, seeping with hopelessness and frustration. “If it’s not because of me, then what am I supposed to do?”

You got up. “Come here,” you said, and led him to the living room. The home was quiet; his parents were asleep, and the vast emptiness of the home was eerie.

You grabbed the photo album that your parents had given you, and sat down on the couch, motioning for Franco to sit next to you.

You opened it to a picture of you at your 4th birthday party. In the photo, you grimaced though the uncomfortable sensation of a plastic party hat. “Do you see her?” you asked him. He nodded.

“I remember feeling like this when I was that little. This…fear. I desperately wanted friends but was too afraid to talk to anyone.”

You flipped to the next page, pointing to a photo of you sitting alone in a park, a forced smile across your face. “What do you notice about this picture?” you asked him.

Franco leaned in closer to look. “I don’t know,” he said.

“I’m alone. See all the other kids in the background?”

You kept flipping until you found the first photo of you when Franco knew you. You were fifteen, smack in the middle of your awkward teenage years, in the stands at one of his races.

“I remember that,” he said.

“That’s me, spending time with my first real friend,” you said. “I didn’t know it yet, but I had a huge crush on him,” you joked.

“He was going to ask you to marry him today. And you just told him you would have said no.”

“I know,” you said, trying to be gentle with your tone. “But what I’m trying to say is that you’re not just asking me. You’re asking her. And she feels so alone, and she’s scared to trust anyone.”

Franco sat with the thought for a moment, before getting up to grab his own photo book. He opened it to the first page, and pointed to a photo of him as a toddler, wrapped in a scarf, toothy grin spread wide.

“And that’s who asked you.”

You felt a knot of emotion in your stomach break. All you wanted was to cry.

“This goes both ways, YN,” Franco continued. “I understand that you’re scared. But I can’t fix that fear. Only you can.”

The dam broke, your tears flooding forth. He was right. So you told him.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you said, and he wrapped his arm around you, rubbing your back through the tears.

“I’m not perfect either. I shouldn’t have rushed it, I was just excited.”

“Don’t apologize for being excited to propose,” you laughed through your tears. “I should probably go back to therapy.”

“If you think that’ll help,” he said.

“It will,” you sniffled. “I just… I’ve been so afraid that I’ve been ignoring all the signs. I should have seen this coming. You’re never that excited to let me beat you in karting.”

He smiled at your banter. You continued, “But really, you’re right. I’ve just been avoiding this because I’m scared, getting up in my head. I just feel so happy and that scares me, because at some point it has to fall apart, right? You’re never happy forever.”

“You’re not unhappy forever, either. Of course we’d have rough spots. But that’s the beauty of marriage,” he said, “you vow to be there for each other through it all.”

“How did I get so lucky to have you?” you asked, meeting his gaze.

His eyes were full of compassion and love. “I’m the lucky one.” He leaned down to kiss you.

You didn’t really believe him. You still didn’t understand how someone so perfect could love you, someone so…broken. But one day you would. You had to.

The next year was difficult. You began your healing journey again—a journey you were convinced you’d be on your entire life. But you’d do it for him, and for you.

And slowly, bit by bit, the wounds began to heal.

It wasn’t linear. With Franco’s new contract, he had lots of attention and responsibilities. He was away from home more. He was tired, stressed, more short-tempered. There were arguments. Some days it felt like you took one step forward and two steps back.

But you made it through. For every argument there was an honest conversation. For every night away there was a sweet gesture or text message to remind you that he still loved you, and from it grew a solid, blooming trust. For every mistake—on both ends—there was an apology and a commitment to be better. For every night of tears, there was a night of laughter with the man you loved most in the world.

And by the end of the season, you and the relationship were stronger than ever.

Of course, things weren’t perfect. But the fear that had once held you hostage was an adversary you knew you could overcome.

Franco kept the ring in his nightstand. You had found it again one day while cleaning. It wasn’t really hidden, as if to say, we’ll get to this later. It was no secret now. You just put it back in its place and smiled, going on about your day.

But Franco had been giving the proposal much thought. He decided against inviting anyone again, wanting it to be a tender moment of vulnerability between you and him.

No, he wanted this time to be simple. Honest.

He just hoped you were ready.

A few weeks before the beginning of the next season, he took you out to the place where all this had begun; the outlook in the countryside, where he first told you that he wanted to marry you.

This time, he double and triple checked to make sure the ring was there in his pocket.

The sun was setting over the Spanish countryside, painting the sky rich shades of orange and yellow. The air had cooled with the impending coming of night.

He opened your car door and set up a blanket on the ground, where you sat and he laid his head in your lap, letting your fingers run through his hair as a way to calm his nerves.

He took a deep breath as he sat up, and you knew what was coming. Again, he had rehearsed a speech, but almost instantly forgot it the second he opened his mouth.

“YN,” he began, looking you directly in the eyes, “I… I love you. So much. More than words can say.” He was nervous, swallowing before he continued, letting his eyes wander off to the picturesque view. But he had more important things to be looking at.

“I can’t imagine a version of my life without you in it. I grew up with you. I want to grow old with you. You’ve made me into the best version of myself. We’ve gone through so many things and come out on the other side so much stronger. And I want this,” he said, reaching out to wipe away the happy tears that now flowed down your cheeks. “I want to be with you. Even though we’re both imperfect, even though we both have our problems to work through, YN, I want to do this with you, forever. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up next to you. I want to have children and grandchildren with you. I…” he trailed off, not knowing how to finally say what he really wanted to say.

You smiled through the tears. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring, flipping it open and showing it to you.

“Marry me,” he whispered.

Your smile widened. “Yes,” you answered. “Yes.”

He kissed you with a fervent passion. When he pulled away, his smile couldn’t be contained.

“She said yes!” he cried out, though you both were alone. “I did it! She said yes!” You laughed at his antics.

In a few weeks, you’d have the official photo shoot where he got down on one knee. You’d show the world the carefully constructed version that was all they got to see.

But this was real. And maybe it was imperfect; maybe he hadn’t really asked, more instructed, and maybe he hadn’t gotten down on one knee, and maybe, yes, you had found the ring beforehand.

But this was real. In all the ups and downs, the hurt and healing, this love you shared with your now fiance was real. The world didn’t get to see that.

And maybe that fear was still within you. It was smaller now. And when you had seen that shine of the ring, maybe you had felt it rise within you again. But you knew now that it was just a feeling, something you could control. You didn’t have to ignore it or let it reign you. It was just there.

It wasn't real though. And this was. The cold metal of the ring slid onto your finger. The feeling of Franco’s lips on yours. The strain in your face muscles from all the smiling. His hand around your waist, pulling you closer as the sun dipped below the sky, leaving you and your lover alone in the dark—yes, this was real.

And this was yours; he was yours.

For the first time in a long time, you knew you had nothing to fear.

238 notes · View notes

blxxmingrose · 2 days ago

Text

the movie was a blur for hans too, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud. there were movements on screen that captivated his eyes, but his being was somewhere else, encapsulated in this moment, fully aware of june’s presence near him. fully aware of how that presence made him feel.

it made hans feel like he had been given permission to sit back and figuratively let his hair down, like nothing else would happen. he felt safe in the knowledge that they were all here, he wouldn’t worry about june while the snowstorm raged on, and he wouldn’t worry about june worrying about them either. he didn’t need to worry at all. he smiled to himself, allowing himself to bask in this feeling of safety and belonging, letting it chase away the coldness of the night.

“i have a lot of free time to think when you and sunny are at school,” he said jokingly, and even how that sounded felt different to hans. he didn’t feel lonely being alone in his flower shop anymore. even in those moments, he could feel june’s presence, and the way they found the time to talk to each other when they could, made him feel like he truly existed in someone else’s life. that he mattered.

“and if you’re easily convinced for future movie nights, then i have a lot more thinking and preparing to do.” he wanted june to stay, in so many words. he felt brave in that moment, and he gave a wink as he ended his words, though the gesture made him chuckle as he did so. it was so unlike him to be this carefree around someone, but that’s what june brought out in him. and, if he was being honest, he never wanted to lose that feeling.

sunny’s small frame leaning on him was starting to feel heavy, and it could only mean one thing. he moved slightly to see her eyes fighting the urge to close, a yawn escaping her lips just at the right moment to confirm hans’ suspicion. as the ending credits started, he gave june a quick look and mouthed, “i should put her to bed. but you can pick another movie if you want.”

and with that, he carried sunny in his arms, her tired arms circling around his neck as her final attempts to keep her eyes open scanned for june in the room, making sure he was still there. “he’ll still be here tomorrow when you wake up,” hans whispered reassuringly, taking careful steps toward her room as she closed her eyes completely.

hans laid her down gently and made sure she was wrapped up nicely in her covers, planting a kiss on her forehead before he straightened up. he kept her door open wider this time, so he could hear her even from the living room, where he headed back with his heart feeling full.

“she was fast asleep as soon as i put her down. i wonder how long she’s been trying to stay awake,” he said, still whispering as he returned to his seat. with sunny vacating the space between them, hans felt even more conscious of their closeness, and it filled him with a cocktail of emotions all at once. as he repositioned the blanket around him, he turned to glance at june, taking in the moment and smiling fondly, “ready for one more movie?”

june accepted the other end of the blanket without hesitation, pulling it over himself and adjusting it slightly so it covered his shoulder. the warmth was immediate, seeping into him in a way that had almost nothing to do with the fabric itself and everything to do with this*. the closeness, the way hans had thought to prepare for tonight, the way sunny nestled so easily between them, content and secure.

“you really did think of everything, huh?” june murmured, his voice carrying the kind of fond amusement that settled low and comfortably in his chest. his gaze flickered to hans briefly before returning to the screen, though he wasn’t really watching the movie anymore. he could hear it, the dialogue blending into the soft rustle of the blanket and the occasional sound of sunny shifting, but the details blurred.

because the thing about a moment like this was that it held you. it wrapped itself around you like the blanket over their shoulders, tugging you deeper into its warmth. it didn’t need to be spoken about, only felt.

and june felt it.

he exhaled, sinking further into the couch, allowing himself the luxury of letting go. of not needing to be anywhere else. he wasn’t used to this — this quiet contentment, this ease of existing with someone else without worrying about when it might slip away. but hans comment made something tug in june’s chest, a promise he wanted to believe in. “you know,” he started again, tilting his head slightly toward hans, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips, “if you ever need an excuse to have more nights like this… i’m not exactly hard to convince.”

it was a quiet offering. a way of saying i’d stay if you let me.

406 notes · View notes

writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink · 3 days ago

Text

No cause you know what would be funny as fuck Ras Al ghul randomly showing up to the Wayne Manor and just letting himself in doesn't wait for anyone to let him in and he doesn't even tell Talia he's stopping by Wayne Manor and it's the anniversary of Jason's rebirth and Ras accidentally missed Damian's birthday because he was out of the country so here he is just waltzing into the manor here's how I think it'll go

Ra's: breaks into Wayne Manor and bee-lines to the batcave cause his spies told him Damian and Jason were down there

Bruce:has his back turned to the entrance in the middle of lecturing Jason for being reckless and for rigging his batmobile to shoot fucking glitter bombs whenever he tried to fire any kind of projectile

Jason: come on it was funny and it worked honestly I thought you'd be happy no one's dead they're just covered in glitter

Bruce: eye twitching

Damian: notices Ras just casually waltzing into the bat cave

Damian: hello grandfather

Bruce:spins around to find Ras in his lair bracing himself for a fight or some type of bad news only for ras to by pass him entirely and beeline to Jason and Damian

Ra's: snaps his fingers and assassin's come out of nowhere seemingly appearing from the shadows one is holding a bear cub with a little bow on its head and hands it to damian and steps back meanwhile another assassin appears with a giant stack of first edition leather bound classic literature and some rare ones that are almost unheard of to have

Ra's: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY GRANDSON'S :)

Bruce: is baffled because why is Ras calling Jason his grandson where did he get a bear cub why is he gifting Damian a bear cub, Damian's birthday was a month ago wtf Bruce's eye is twitching

Jason: oooo these are really hard to get, oh all of these are leather bound this is awesome thanks gramps though it's not really my birthday is your memory going old man

Ra's: this is the anniversary of your rebirth

Jason: ...

Damian: I appreciate the gift grandfather I shall name this bear lilly

Bruce: Damian I ... Look okay.. it's nice your .. his eye is twitching and he's trying to not lose his patience because again wtf.. grandfather has put an effort into this uh. Gift but you simply can't keep a bear in the manor much less in Gotham it's a wild animal

Damian: 😐 so isn't Jason and we keep him around and he gets to waltz around Gotham and the manor

Jason: hey listen here ya little shit

Bruce: exasperated first off your brother is not an animal secondly I'm not sure it's legal to keep a bear cub as a pet in Gotham

Damian: like running around Gotham dressed as a bat to beat up bad guys is legal, or that time you purposely broke into Arkham asylum to free Selina Kyle because her input on your suit was just sooooo important

Bruce: looks to Alfred

Alfred: well we do have the land space to build a sanctuary for the cub and the permits it would be quite an easy task to say the Wayne foundation is funding a bear sanctuary

Damian: ☺️ thank you Alfred

Bruce: turns to Ras why would you gift Damian a bear cub

Ra's: it was on his wishlist, and only the best for my grandsons, also you owe me child support

Bruce: ready to throw hands at this point

Alfred: smirks

Jason: trying really hard not to laugh

Ra's: ofcourse I'll let it go if you let the boy keep the bear cub in fact I have another gift but it won't be arriving for about a week 🙂.. he then turns to Damian you should give your mother a call she said something about wanting to plan something I'm really not sure what it is she's on about but regardless I think she'd like your input ... Well actually both your inputs

Bruce: sighs fine they get to keep the bear and we'll build the damn sanctuary but Damian i expect you to have it at least potty trained and do not under any circumstances let it in the kitchen I do not need a repeat of last time you got a new pet

Ra's: happy that he's annoyed the fuck out of Bruce and got his grandsons Great gifts my job here is done he claps his hands and his assassins fade back into the shadows

Jason: already lounging on a couch reading

Damian: holding the bear in his arms and patting it let's go get you some apples covered in honey 😊 walks out the cave with the bear cub

150 notes · View notes

favefandomimagines · 2 days ago

Text

I Know Places 2 (r.c)

Summary: Rafe goes to Y/N at the bait shop and his presence is not celebrated

AN: part 2 of ‘I Know Places’ and I’m deciding to go the traditional route! I’m used to the old school way of fics so this will be fully written out and not SMAU! Though I do love how that’s on trend right now!

Previous part

The next morning, Y/N Maybank was up before the sun had fully risen, her mind too restless for sleep. She had spent the night tossing and turning, debating whether or not to tell JJ and the Pogues about what happened at Tannyhill. It wasn’t that she wanted to keep secrets—she just didn’t know how to explain the strange feeling of being pulled into Rafe Cameron’s world, if only for a fleeting moment.

By the time the bait shop was ready to open, she was already elbow-deep in her morning routine: feeding the live bait, checking inventory, and wiping down the counters.

Summer was here, which meant the shop would soon be crawling with locals and tourists alike, and she needed everything to be in order.

The small bell above the door jingled, pulling her attention away from the tank of minnows. She glanced up to see Rafe Cameron standing in the doorway. His broad shoulders filled the frame, his usual air of arrogance replaced by something quieter.

“Hey, Pretty Girl,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Y/N quirked a brow, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. “Rafe Cameron on the Cut? You must’ve hit your head harder than I thought.”

“Funny,” he replied, stepping closer. “How’s business?”

“It’s early,” she said flatly, then tilted her head. “How’s your head?”

“Better,” Rafe said, though his hand instinctively went to touch the bandage she had applied the night before. “Still aches.”

“Maybe now you’ll listen to me and see a doctor,” Y/N said, crossing her arms. “What if you’ve got brain damage? You must have if you thought coming here was a good idea.”

Rafe chuckled under his breath, but his expression quickly sobered. “I need to talk to you about last night.”

Y/N set the container of fish food on the counter, her brows knitting together. “What do you mean?”

Rafe leaned against the counter, his blue eyes scanning the shop briefly before landing back on her. “How many people did you see leave the house?”

“Three,” she said slowly, thinking back to the shadowy figures slipping through the side gate. “They looked like men, but I couldn’t see their faces. They had black hoods on.”

She watched as Rafe’s jaw tightened and his eyes clouded over, clearly running through a mental list of possibilities. It didn’t take a genius to realize there was more to the break-in than he was letting on.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Y/N asked, her voice softer now.

Rafe shook his head quickly. “No. Don’t worry about it.”

“Rafe, someone broke into your house and assaulted you. You need to tell Shoupe,” Y/N said firmly.

“I’m sure they didn’t find what they were looking for,” he replied cryptically.

“What does that even mean?”

Rafe ignored the question, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “I just... I wanted to see you. And to thank you again for helping me last night.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “It’s no problem,” she said, though her voice faltered slightly. “But you should probably go before JJ finds you talking to me.”

“Do you always do what JJ wants?” Rafe asked, but there was no malice in his voice.

Y/N hesitated, his question catching her off guard. Did people really think that? “No,” she said finally, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It’s just that a fight is bad for business.”

Rafe returned her smile, a rare softness in his expression. He pulled out his phone and handed it to her. “Here. Put your number in. You know, in case I need another house call.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, her instinct screaming at her to say no. But Rafe seemed... different. The last time they’d spoken, he’d been consumed by grief and arrogance, still reeling from his father’s death and struggling to take over the family business. But now, he seemed calmer—more grounded, though still carrying an edge.

She grabbed his phone and began typing her number. Her head was screaming at her to not do it, don’t give him access. But she did it anyway.

“Rafe?”

Both their heads snapped toward the dock, where Sarah Cameron was walking toward the shop. Rafe stepped back from Y/N, his demeanor instantly shifting.

“What are you doing here?” Sarah asked, her gaze narrowing suspiciously.

“Thought someone broke into the house last night,” Rafe said smoothly. “I knew you parked outside when you went to that party, so I came to see if you saw anything.”

Before Sarah could respond, Y/N interjected. “I already told him I didn’t see anything. We were still at the party when it happened.”

“Someone broke into the house? Did they take anything? Are you okay?” Sarah questioned. “I’m fine. It didn’t look like they took anything. Just a window and a door I have to replace.” Rafe answered.

“I uh, gotta go, I’ll see you around.” He added, his gaze fleetingly on Y/N.

He walked past Sarah and up the dock, leaving Y/N standing there, her heart pounding for reasons she couldn’t fully understand.

“Was he bothering you?” Sarah asked, stepping into the shop.

“No, no,” Y/N said quickly. “He just wanted to ask if we saw anything.”

But even as she spoke, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Rafe’s visit meant something more. And as much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t entirely mind.

“JJ is going to freak when he finds out.” Sarah commented. “We don’t need to tell him. I’m sure Rafe came here looking for you but I was here.” Y/N quickly replied.

As Sarah stepped closer, Y/N busied herself with the container of fish food on the counter, her mind racing. She could still feel the heat of Rafe’s presence lingering in the room, and her stomach twisted at the thought of Sarah catching onto something she hadn’t even figured out herself.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, crossing her arms as she studied her friend.

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, hoping her casual demeanor would be enough to shut the conversation down. “Nothing.”

“Since when does Rafe come to you for answers?” Sarah’s tone was skeptical, her piercing gaze making Y/N feel like she was under a microscope. “And why didn’t he just ask me?”

“Maybe because you were at the party too?” Y/N said, raising a brow. “I don’t know, Sarah. He didn’t exactly give me his whole life story.”

Sarah frowned but didn’t press further, instead moving to grab a soda from the mini fridge behind the counter. “Still... I don’t like him showing up out of nowhere like that.”

Y/N let out a short laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “What, you think he’s gonna rob the bait shop? Pretty sure we’re not hiding any family heirlooms in the minnow tank.”

Sarah snorted, but her expression remained thoughtful as she leaned against the counter. “I just don’t trust him, Y/N. You know how he is.”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her shirt. Sarah wasn’t wrong—Rafe Cameron was trouble. He always had been. But last night, when he was bleeding and vulnerable, he didn’t feel like the same guy she’d written off.

“Yeah, I know,” Y/N said quietly. “But he’s your brother, Sarah. He can’t be all bad.”

Sarah gave her a sharp look, clearly not expecting that response. “You’re defending Rafe now?”

Y/N shook her head quickly. “No, I’m not defending him. I’m just saying... people can change, right?”

Before Sarah could respond, the bell above the door jingled again, and John B strolled in, followed closely by JJ, who was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning, ladies,” John B greeted with a grin, grabbing a bag of chips from the shelf. “What’s the gossip?”

“Rafe was here,” Sarah said bluntly, making both boys freeze in their tracks. Y/N glared at her friend, eyes saying ‘why the hell would you do that?’

“What?” JJ’s tone immediately turned sharp as he walked over to Y/N. “Why the hell was Rafe Cameron here?”

“Someone broke into his house,” Y/N said quickly, trying to downplay the situation. “Wanted to know if we saw anything suspicious last night. That’s it.”

JJ’s jaw clenched, and he let out a humorless laugh. “Since when does he care about what we saw? He’s up to something.”

“Relax, J,” Y/N said, placing a hand on his arm. “He wasn’t here to start trouble. He just... wanted answers.”

“Well, he better not come around again,” JJ muttered darkly, his protective instincts kicking in. “I don’t care what he wants. You don’t need to be talking to him.”

Y/N bristled at his tone, but before she could respond, Sarah spoke up. “Let’s not make this a thing. Rafe’s gone, and he’s not coming back here.”

JJ muttered something under his breath, clearly still annoyed, but he let it go for now. Y/N, however, felt a tinge of annoyance in her chest. She loved her brother, and it was just the two of them at the end of the day so it makes sense he’s protective. But he’s not her father, she’s 20 years old, she doesn’t need her brother telling her who she can and can’t talk to.

The fire crackled softly, its orange glow casting warm shadows on the Pogues as they lounged in the cool evening air. John B was sprawled out on the sand with Sarah curled up beside him, their laughter intertwining as they recounted the story of JJ’s infamous fight with Topper outside the country club.

“And then Shoupe shows up, and Y/N’s out here sweet-talking him like she’s auditioning for a soap opera!” JJ exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis.

“Sweet-talking?” Y/N interjected from the hammock, her tone dripping with mock offense as she rolled another joint. “I’ll have you know I was using logic and reason to keep your ass out of juvie.”

Kie snorted. “Logic and reason? You told Shoupe Topper started it and then cried about how JJ was just trying to defend your honor.”

“Exactly,” Y/N said with a smug grin. “And it worked, didn’t it?”

JJ grinned back, leaning over to flick sand at her. “I owe you for that one, Sunshine.”

“Damn right you do,” Y/N quipped, expertly twisting the joint closed.

The group dissolved into another round of laughter, the kind that came easy after a long day and a few too many hits. Pope was stoking the fire while Cleo leaned against him, teasing him about his terrible impression of Shoupe. It was one of those rare nights where everything felt simple—just them, the stars, and the stories they carried.

“Hey, Sunshine!” JJ called, breaking through the chatter. “Toss me one of those masterpieces!”

Y/N smirked, flicking the newly rolled joint in his direction. JJ caught it with ease, holding it up like a trophy before lighting it.

As she reached for another paper, her phone buzzed against her thigh. She picked it up without much thought, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the name.

Rafe.

The text was simple but enough to tug at her carefully guarded smile.

RC: Hey, Pretty Girl.

Y/N: Can I help you, Cameron?

RC: What are you doin’?

Y/N: Currently? I’m rolling a joint.

RC: Lol, save one for me?

Y/N: Maybe.

The next text froze her in place.

RC: Just wondering, is asking you out against doctor’s orders?

Her breath hitched, her mind racing. Was Rafe Cameron—Rafe Cameron—really asking her out? She stared at her phone for a moment too long, trying to process what this meant.

Y/N: Hm, that might be bad for your health

RC: What if we don’t tell anyone?

This wasn’t the Rafe she’d known before. The old Rafe was reckless, arrogant, and self-absorbed. But now? He felt different, quieter. Something had shifted, and Y/N couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

RC: Did I lose you, Pretty Girl?

She glanced around the fire. Her friends were laughing, oblivious, completely immersed in the stories of summers past. Sarah was teasing John B about his failed attempts at surfing, JJ was leaning back with a lazy grin, and Kie was high enough to be softly singing to herself.

Y/N was the odd one out—always had been in a way. The one without a partner, without a storybook romance. And yet, there was something undeniable about the way her chest had tightened in Rafe’s bathroom, how she’d felt something she couldn’t ignore.

Y/N: Better plan a good date

The reply came seconds later.

RC: Is that a yes?

Y/N: It’s a yes. Don’t mess it up.

Y/N set her phone down, the smallest of smiles playing on her lips as she leaned back in the hammock.

“Who are you texting?” Kie’s voice came from beside her, making Y/N jump. Kie had slid into the hammock, her eyes glassy but curious.

“My cousin,” Y/N lied smoothly, reaching for another paper. “We need more weed, and he’s got the good stuff.”

Kie leaned her head on Y/N’s shoulder, her movements sluggish. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Y/N froze, the lie suddenly feeling heavy in her chest. “Of course, Kie,” she murmured, though her voice felt hollow.

“You’re my best friend,” Kie continued, her words slurring slightly. “You and me, we’re a team, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said softly, guilt twisting in her stomach.

But as Kie drifted into a half-asleep haze against her shoulder, Y/N’s thoughts drifted back to Rafe. Whatever this was, it wasn’t something she could tell them. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

#imagine #imagines #outer banks #jj maybank #rafe cameron #outer banks imagine #kiara carrera #john b routledge #sarah cameron #rudy pankow #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader

126 notes · View notes

maretinelli · 17 hours ago

Text

A NON-SEPARATION²

DadLewis Hamilton X Mom!fem!reader

Summary: When Lewis and the girls return from their trip, and things with Y/n start to improve. And then, he confesses something that was on his mind during the days they were apart.

Words: 5.8K+

Warnings: Mentions of the past fight, Lewis being a loving husband, Pietra being very funny, Marie's cuteness and a happy ending.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. You can request stories on my profile, in questions. By the way, I loved writing for these four, if you want, I can make a parallel world and write more stories about this family!!!!! (Comment if you want, so I know)

Part 1

MASTERLIST

The weekend passed more quickly than Y/n expected. With Anne in town, she had a chance to take her mind off things, even though the silence in the house still bothered her. They went out to lunch, watched movies, and talked about everything but Lewis—at least until the last day, when Y/n finally admitted that she missed him. Anne wasn’t surprised, but she didn’t press her either.

Meanwhile, Lewis and the girls had an emotional weekend. The race was intense, and the girls cheered in the Ferrari garage alongside grandma Carmen, cheering for their father.

Pietra, always spontaneous, made a point of shouting "Go, daddy!" right in the middle of the post-race interview, making the journalists laugh. Marie, more reserved, just covered her face with her hands, pretending she didn't know her sister.

Now it was Tuesday, and Y/n had already returned to her routine—or at least she tried to. She was on vacation from the office, Anne had already left, and the big house was silent again. Too silent.

She had never spent so much time away from her daughters, and every corner of the house felt empty without them. Roscoe was her only company, but not even the dog could fill the void left by Marie and Pietra. And, of course, by Lewis.

Y/n sighed, sitting on the couch, fiddling with her phone without really paying attention. But suddenly, a loud horn echoed through the condominium, and she practically jumped off the couch, running to the door. Roscoe ran after her, knowing exactly who had arrived.

Opening the door, Y/n saw the two girls getting out of the car, their faces lit up with huge smiles.

Marie wore the denim jacket she had asked her mother to pack, paired with her black pants and white sneakers. Always stylish and authentic. Pietra, on the other hand, well, she looked different. Very different.

The sparkly dress was expected. But braids in her hair?

Yes. The same braids Lewis wore.

Y/n's eyes widened, holding back a laugh as Pietra and Marie ran to hug her. She bent down, wrapping her arms around her daughters, feeling their familiar scent.

"I missed you guys so much" She murmured, closing her eyes.

"We miss you too, Mommy!" Marie replied, squeezing her tighter.

In the middle of the hug, Y/n looked up and found Lewis. He was leaning against the car, watching the scene with a smile. And God, how handsome he was. How handsome he IS.

His eyes lit up when he saw his wife looking at him like that, and he smiled even wider when she whispered a brief "Hi."

Lewis returned the greeting with a loving look, but then Y/n looked at Pietra's braids again. She arched an eyebrow and pointed at her youngest daughter's hair, exchanging an amused look with Lewis.

He just laughed and gestured with his hand, signaling that he would explain later.

Marie pulled out of the hug and looked at her sister. "Grandma took Pietra to the salon and she wanted to do the same as daddy."

"Exactly the same!" Pietra said excitedly, bending down to pet Roscoe.

Y/n smiled, running her fingers through Marie's straight hair. "And you, my love? You look beautiful in that jacket." Marie smiled shyly and pulled her mother into another hug.

Y/n melted. Since the girls were born, it was like this: Marie was her shadow, and Pietra was her father's copy. Even though physically the two had inherited more of Lewis's features, their personalities balanced everything out.

Suddenly, Pietra looked up at her mother, excited. "Daddy bought you flowers, Mommy!"

Lewis rolled his eyes near the car, while Yin looked at her daughter and then at him, holding back a laugh.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes! And they're red flowers and they have a pretty bow and..."

"PIETRA!" Marie and Lewis said together. The girl's tone was one of authority, her father's was one of amusement.

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head. "That little girl needs to learn how to keep secrets."

Y/n laughed, standing up, but still keeping one hand in Marie's hair. Pietra, oblivious to the small chaos she caused, ran with Roscoe into the house.

Marie looked up at her mother. "I'll go in too."

Y/n kissed the top of her head. "It's okay, love."

As Marie entered, Y/n looked at her eldest daughter and then, Lewis finally approached. He was holding a beautiful bouquet of red roses. Y/n's favorites.

He handed it to her, his gaze soft. "I know a bouquet can't fix everything...but I want you to remember that I still love you very much."

Y/n's heart sank. She held the flowers tenderly, inhaling their scent and blinking back a few tears. "Thank you, Lew. They're beautiful." There was a brief silence between the two, just the soft wind blowing through the garden. "Do you want to come in and talk about it?"

He hesitated for a moment, as if choosing the right words. His gaze softened, and the way he held his car keys indicated he was more nervous than he wanted to show.

"I don't want to talk about this here, with the girls around," he said, his voice filled with genuine regret. "I want to do this right, without rushing, without distractions. I want to take you out to dinner, like before. So we can have some time alone."

There was something vulnerable in his expression, a mixture of guilt and a sincere desire to make amends for whatever harm he had caused. As much as they had both said hurtful words, he clearly carried the weight of it in a deeper way.

Y/n felt her chest warm, gripping the bouquet tighter. Lewis had never been good with words when it came to deep feelings, but she knew that when he tried like that, it was because it really meant something.

He didn't just want to settle the fight. He wanted to reaffirm that, despite everything, the love between them was still unshakable.

Y/n took a deep breath and nodded, her voice as soft as his. "I'd also rather we not talk about this in front of the girls."

Lewis nodded silently, and Y/n stepped aside, making room in the doorway for him to enter.

But he smiled and shook his head. "Actually, I just came to drop off the girls and the bags. My dad is in town with Linda, we planned to meet up."

Y/n smiled slightly, knowing that Lewis didn't see his father that often and that those moments were important.

However, he sighed and ran his hand over the back of his neck, suddenly looking uneasy. "But I promised that nothing would be more important than you. That I would pay more attention to you and the girls." He began to stumble over his words nervously. "If you want, I'll cancel. It's no problem, really. I-"

Y/n's eyes widened, smiling at his sudden rambling. She gently reached up and touched Lewis's face, calming him down. "Lew, it's okay," She said, looking deep into his eyes. "Your father and Linda are your family too. They deserve priority sometimes."

Lewis blinked, absorbing her words, before letting out a small sigh of relief. A grateful smile appeared on his face.

"Thank you, love."

The nickname came out so natural and full of affection that Y/n felt her heart beat faster.

It was as if he were truly giving himself over, breaking the distance that had formed between them over the past few days. The way he called her, with the softness and vulnerability that touched her so much, made her feel reconnected to him, as if everything that had happened up until that moment was something temporary, a storm that would soon pass.

Before they could say anything else, Pietra shouted something inside, making them both laugh.

Y/n laughed and shook her head, calling out, "Marie, help your sister with whatever she's asking for, please!"

Lewis smiled and went to the car to get the girls' bags, placing them in the entrance hall. When he returned, he approached his wife and placed a light kiss on her cheek.

“You’re free tomorrow night” He said, a twinkle in his eye. “I already have some restaurant ideas for us.”

Y/n smiled. "I'll stay."

Lewis gave one last smile before leaving, and Y/n closed the door, now surrounded by the sound of her daughters' cute laughter echoing through the house. But even so, she felt like something was still missing. And she knew exactly what it was.

Holding the bouquet, she walked to the kitchen to put the flowers in water. The girls followed her, excited.

She smiled at the two of them, leaning slightly over the counter. "Now, girls... tell us all the cool things you did on your trip!"

••••••••••••••••••••••••

The day dawned softly, with the first rays of sunlight crossing the bedroom curtains. The house, previously silent, was filled with lively laughter and small, hurried footsteps down the hallway.

Marie and Pietra, full of energy, ran to their mother's room and, without hesitation, jumped on the bed. Roscoe, excited by the excitement, climbed right behind, wagging his tail and settling down next to Y/n.

The daughters' laughter mixed with the dog's low, happy barks, while Y/n, still sleepy, received the girls' excited hugs. She felt the warmth and love in the contact, enjoying that moment of purity before finally promising to get up.

At the mention of breakfast, the girls rushed down the hallway, eagerly leaving the room in an instant. As Y/n turned to get out of bed, her gaze fell on the empty side of the mattress. Still empty.

She knew what she wanted. And no matter what conversation they would have later, one thing was certain: she wanted Lewis back there. With her. With her daughters.

And before she could get out of bed, her cell phone beeped and a message from her husband appeared.

'Linda and my dad are excited to see the girls. They want to hang out with them tonight, and that's a good thing because we have plans later too. I'll pick you up at 7pm. Love you, babe!'

Night fell quickly and the house was silent, except for the distant sound of water running in the girls' bathroom. In the bedroom, Y/n looked at the clothing options spread out on the armchair: an elegant long dress and a more casual combination consisting of a black satin shirt, jeans and heels.

She ran her fingers through the fabric of his shirt, a soft smile playing on her lips. She felt as if she were preparing for a first date. Her heart was pounding with anticipation, something she hadn’t felt in a while. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the first time she had gone out with Lewis, all those years ago. She remembered the way he had looked at her that night, as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts. Before she could react, a voice came from behind her. “Satin shirt and heels, Mommy.”

Y/n turned around and found Marie standing in the doorway, wrapped in a fluffy robe, with a towel too big for her head. The sight made Y/n laugh softly. Marie looked so small in the midst of so much fabric.

The girl shrugged, a shy smile on her lips. "You look beautiful in both, but I like it better when you wear a shirt. It makes you look... powerful."

Y/n let out a laugh and walked over to Marie, placing a loving hand on her shoulder. Her chest hurt a little from seeing her first baby girl grow up so fast.

"Thank you for the compliment, little one. Then I'll choose that one." She led her daughter out of the room and toward the girls' room. "Now it's your turn, Marie. Choose something just as powerful." Marie laughed and nodded, following her mother.

In the girls' room, Pietra was already wearing her going out clothes and Y/n just needed to help her put on her shoes, since she had her braids done.

As she tied her shoelaces, Y/n couldn't help but smile. The braids were still flawless, and she made a mental note to ask Lewis whose idea it had been in the first place.

She always made sure to respect her daughters’ personalities, helping them get ready with care and patience. As she adjusted Pietra’s clothes and fixed Marie’s hair, she felt grateful for those simple but loving moments.

Suddenly, the sound of a horn echoed outside. Marie and Pietra looked at each other and then looked at their mother.

"Daddy can't come yet!" Pietra exclaimed, starting to leave the room. "Mommy hasn't gotten ready yet!"

Y/n and Marie exchanged an amused look before laughing together. "It's Grandpa and Grandma Linda," Y/n said loudly, so that Pietra could hear her.

Marie smiled and left the room with her mother, she went downstairs excitedly too, happy to see Grandpa and Grandma Linda. When Y/n got to the door, Pietra was already anxious, jumping up and down.

"Open up, Mommy! Open up, Mommy!"

On the other side of the door, she heard the familiar laughter, they probably heard P's excited screams. As soon as she opened it, Pietra let out an excited little scream and threw herself into her grandfather and grandmother's arms.

Linda and Anthony laughed, hugging the little girl.

"You were really excited to see us, huh?" Linda joked.

Y/n laughs. "When Lew said you guys were coming to get them she wouldn't stop talking about you guys!"

Anthony and Linda give Y/n a warm smile as they hug their youngest granddaughter.

Marie soon joined in the group hug. "Miss you, Grandpa and Grandma Linda!"

"I miss you too, little one." Linda hugs her eldest and Anthony strokes his eldest granddaughter's straight hair.

Y/n smiled as she saw the scene.

Linda stepped back a little, studying Pietra and smiling. "I love the braids."

The little girl smiled proudly. "Right? Just like daddy's!" Everyone laughed.

Anthony then bent down and asked, "So, are you guys excited to go out?" The girls smiled and nodded excitedly.

Y/n bent down to their level, fixing Marie's hair and caressing Pietra's cheek, while giving some instructions to her daughters. "Behave yourselves and have fun, okay?"

Linda smiled. "They always behave, don't they, girls?"

They both nodded with shy smiles.

Anthony smiled and they walked towards the car, while Y/n watched the scene with a sweet smile on her face. Linda helps Marie and Pietra put on their seatbelts. Lewis's father waves to Y/n as he starts the car.

Y/n smiles friendly and when they leave the condominium, she closes the door behind her and runs to the stairs, climbing quickly, as now it was her turn to get ready.

When he arrived at his room, he stopped for a moment, looking at the clothes he had laid out earlier. The long dress was still there, but her eyes returned to the black satin shirt and jeans, already deciding what to wear. Marie was right—there was something powerful about that combination, something that made her feel confident and beautiful.

Calmly, Y/n took off the comfortable clothes she was wearing and put on the shirt, feeling the soft fabric slide over her skin. She continued to change her clothes and think about what awaited her tonight.

Y/n went to the large vanity she had and began to put on some light makeup, but something that matched the night and the outfit she was wearing.

As she finished applying mascara to her eyes, her cell phone beeped next to the products on the table, when she picked up the device and smiled when she saw Lewis's name on the screen, along with a message.

'Honey, coming in 10 minutes. Can't wait to see you.'

Her heart warmed, and the smile on her lips became even bigger, feeling a good shiver at the thought that, in a few minutes, she would be with her husband.

And exactly ten minutes later, when she finished arranging her hair in loose waves, a horn echoed outside her house. Y/n smiles and stands up, grabbing her bag and walking down the stairs excitedly, because Lewis had arrived.

When she opened it, she found Lewis standing a few feet from the door and a smile from someone who knew exactly the effect he was having on her. He wore an elegant formal outfit, but what caught her attention most were his loose braids, giving him a charming and relaxed look.

Y/n raised an eyebrow and smiled, tilting her head slightly. "Look at you... You look handsome, huh? Are you going out with someone special today?" She closed the door behind her and approached her husband.

Lewis chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. "Only with the love of my life and mother of our children." The touch was brief, but full of affection. "You look beautiful in that outfit!" He grabbed his wife's hand and twirled around. Making Y/n laugh and her heels make a satisfying click as she twirled around.

"Your eldest daughter chose the outfit" He said, shaking the shirt slightly, with an amused look.

Lewis smiled even wider, his eyes shining. "Marie has good taste." He leaned close to her ear. "But honestly? You'd look beautiful in anything. Even without."

Y/n laughed, feeling completely melted and hit by Lewis's teasing comment. He noticed and smiled. Satisfied that he had that effect on her for so many years.

Arriving near the car, Lewis opens the passenger door for Y/n and she gets in, smiling in gratitude and resting her bag on her lap, as she watches her husband walk around the Ferrari they had and get in on the driver's side.

Automatically placing one hand on Y/n's thigh, while with the other he put on his seatbelt and started the car.

The night was calm and illuminated by the silver lights of the streetlights and the luxurious facades of the buildings. The city glowed with a sophisticated charm, reflecting in the city's lakes.

Y/n, leaning comfortably on the bench, looked away at her husband and smiled. "Okay, now tell me... Whose idea was it for P's braids?"

Lewis laughed, shaking his head as he remembered the scene in the paddock. "Oh, that's a good story! I don't know if the girls told you," he began, still laughing. "While I was in the pit, Charles came out of nowhere saying that I had a "mini-me" walking around the paddock with my mother. I didn't understand until I looked to the side and saw Pietra with a Ferrari cap, sunglasses and her hair tied back, with defined curls." Y/n laughed out loud, already imagining the scene. "And it doesn't stop there! Pietra looked at me and said: "Daddy, I need to have braids like yours! So everyone knows that I'm your real daughter!"

Y/n covered her mouth, trying to contain her laughter. "Oh my God, Pietra!"

"And of course my mother was thrilled and the next day took her to get her braids done. You should have seen her happiness when she came back to the paddock showing off her hair."

"And what was Marie's reaction?" Y/n asked, amused. As she looked at her husband, with the tattoos of the girls' names tattooed on his neck, made on the day they were born.

"Ah, Marie rolled her eyes and said, "You don't need to have braids to look like Daddy, everyone already knows you look just like him!" Lewis imitated his eldest daughter's intonation, drawing more laughter from Y/n.

"Our daughter has an old soul, Lew!"

He chuckled, nodding. "I know, she talks like she's had 40 years of life experience." Lewis looks at his wife with amusement.

As the laughter faded, Y/n leaned over to fiddle with the car's dashboard, putting on some low music that matched the lightness of the moment.

Her eyes wandered around the brightly lit city, and suddenly she recognized the road. Her lips parted in surprise, and she turned her gaze to Lewis, who was driving with a smirk on the corner of her eye, clearly expecting this reaction.

"Lew..." Y/n began, suspicious. He just kept driving, keeping the suspense.

When they finally approached the restaurant, Y/n's eyes widened and she turned completely to him. "The restaurant where we first met!"

Lewis parked and looked at her with a warm glow in his eyes. "If you're going to work things out, let's go back a little bit." The comforting answer made Y/n's heart warm.

Lewis gently cupped her face and placed a kiss on her cheek before getting out of the car and walking around to open the door for his wife.

"Always the gentleman, Sir Hamilton." Y/n joked as she left.

"For you? Always."

He handed the keys to the valet and took Y/n's hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. The feeling of home, of belonging, of everything returning to its rightful place, took over Y/n.

As soon as they entered, Lewis approached the front desk. "I have a reservation for tonight. In the name of Lewis Hamilton and Y/n Hamilton."

The receptionist checked the list and smiled, nodding. "Of course, Mr. Hamilton. This way, please."

They followed the man through the restaurant, which had a welcoming yet elegant ambiance. The space combined warm wood tones with modern touches of glass and soft lighting. The tables were arranged to provide couples with some privacy, without losing the vibrant atmosphere of the place.

The receptionist led them to an outdoor area, a secluded balcony, where a few tables were set up. The lighting was perfect: fairy lights entwined in the trees around the large lake, which reflected the soft glow of the city. The setting was magical and captivating.

"I hope you enjoy the atmosphere. The waiter will be here to serve you soon." The receptionist said politely before walking away.

Lewis pulled out a chair for Y/n, who sat across from him. Seconds later, the waiter arrived with menus and a bottle of wine, serving them both before leaving.

"Thank you!" Lewis smiles gently.

When they were alone, a comfortable silence hung in the air, until, at the same time, they both opened their mouths to speak.

"I'm sorry!" They stopped and looked at each other, surprised that they had spoken at the same time, and then laughed.

"I guess that means we feel the same way." Y/n smiled, holding the wine glass.

"I guess so." Lewis agreed, leaning his elbows on the table and looking at her fondly.

Y/n lightly swirled the wine glass between her fingers, watching the red liquid move. She took a deep breath before looking up at Lewis.

"I'm... I'm so sorry it got to this point. Spending days apart and putting the girls through it too." Her voice was soft, but full of sincerity. "I hate fighting with you, I hate when things get like this between us." Lewis didn't answer right away, just watched her, allowing her to continue. "I didn't mean to turn our conversation into an argument. I just... I was just tired and frustrated, work was taking its toll on me and I ended up taking it out on you. It wasn't fair."

Lewis sighed, running his hand over his face before finally answering.

"I'm sorry too, love." Her voice sounded full of regret. "When you asked me to leave home... that was a shock. But thinking back now, I understand." Y/n he fell silent, allowing him to continue. “You were right.” He let out a weak, humorless laugh. “I was spending too much time in Maranello. I was so focused on work, on the team, on training… that I didn’t even realize what I was leaving behind.”

He looked away for a moment, staring at the reflection of the light on the wine glasses on the table.

"Three weeks away from you made me realize how much I was wrong. How much I was missing. I only really realized this when Pietra called me crying because I wasn't home to tell her the story before bed."

Y/n felt her chest tighten. She remembered that night. Pietra had clung to her, sobbing softly and asking if Daddy still liked them.

"Lewis..."

He shook his head, his eyes shining with restrained emotion.

"It destroyed me. Knowing that my daughter thought I didn't like her because I wasn't there. And it wasn't just her... Marie too. I realized how distant I was, how much I was letting you carry everything on your own."

Y/n took a deep breath, squeezing the glass a little between her fingers. "But you were also right..." She admitted, her voice lower. "I also buried myself in work. I was frustrated because I felt like you were distant, but the truth is, sometimes I was too."

Lewis reached across the table, waiting for her to take it. "I don't want this anymore, Y/n. I don't want to fight with you anymore, or put our daughters through this. I want to be a present father, I want to be a better husband."

Y/n's eyes filled with tears, but she smiled, holding his hand tightly. "I want to be a better mother and wife too."

Lewis squeezed her fingers between his, as if afraid that if he let go, everything would fall apart again. "Shall we fix this together?"

Y/n nodded, her heart pounding. "Sure. Of course." She smiled.

Lewis smiled, bringing her hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on her fingers.

"I love you, Y/n."

"I love you, Lewis"

In that moment, they knew they were on the right path to finding each other again, to rebuilding what they had almost lost. Because, at the end of the day, they were still a team. They always had been.

"Now, let's enjoy our evening." Lewis smiled and looked at the menu. "So, do you want the same order as the first time?"

Y/n laughs at the memory and shakes her head. "No! You know, I didn't know you were allergic to shrimp and you had to spend two days with me in the hospital. And we were only on our first date, how embarrassing." She puts her hand over her face.

Lewis laughs out loud. "But that was a reminder, wasn't it? That no matter what, I'd be by your side."

Y/n smiles lovingly. "It was, and I love it."

Dinner was lighthearted, the weight of the argument that had kept them apart for weeks seemed to have been lifted, giving way to smiles and natural conversations. They talked about past moments, laughed at old stories and shared knowing glances, as if they had rediscovered the comfort of each other's company.

Between a glass of wine and another, they also discussed ways to better balance their routine so that the family could spend more time together. It was a sincere dialogue, without demands, just with the mutual desire to do better.

As they left the restaurant, Lewis linked his fingers with Y/n's, walking with her to where the car was parked. The valet handed over the keys, and Lewis nodded in thanks before opening the car door for his wife.

"I had an idea on how we can spend more time together, especially with the girls." He says as he walks in too.

Y/n turned her face to him, curious. "Oh yeah? What did you think?"

"Well... I realized that I need to organize my schedule better so that I don't spend so much time away from home. So, I want to reduce the number of days in Maranello and make up for that time by being here more. Also, I thought about taking Pietra and Marie to see the Ferrari factory. They always ask what it's like there, and I think it would be an incredible experience for them."

"They'll love it. They'll want to touch everything and ask every detail about the cars." Y/n smiled at the idea. "Marie especially, she loves taking part in the races"

Lewis laughed.

"Yes, I'm already preparing to answer a thousand questions about engines and front wings. He starts driving around the city.

Y/n leaned her head back against the bench, thoughtful. "I can also adjust my office routine better so I can spend more time at home. We can arrange a few days to do something just the four of us."

Lewis nodded, satisfied. "That sounds perfect."

They talked a little more about the details of the plan, and when the topic came to an end, Lewis asked, "Do you want to go anywhere else before we go home?"

Y/n smiled and shook her head. "No, we're too old to stay out all night."

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. "Speak for yourself. I could hold out for a few more hours."

"Oh, sure, Lew. As if. Another half hour and you'd be asleep in the middle of the conversation."

He laughed and, without arguing, turned around and headed home.

The journey was peaceful and surrounded by a pleasant atmosphere, the feeling between them was light, filled with genuine joy, as if the storm of the last few weeks had finally dissipated.

When they arrived home, Lewis parked the car in the garage and got out, accompanying Y/n to the door. Even on the short journey, he kept one of his hands on her waist, a natural and instinctive gesture.

"Anne brought some great wine back from France when she traveled. I saved it for us to open together. Would you like to try it?"

"Sure" Lewis replied, following his wife into the kitchen.

Before they could do anything, Roscoe came running up to Lewis, barking and wagging his tail excitedly.

"Hey, buddy" Lewis smiled, bending down to pet the dog, who soon settled down next to him.

"He missed you too, you know? You're the oldest son in the house, Roscoe."

"Good to know at least he wasn't mad at me." Lewis laughed.

As Y/n opened the wine, Lewis approached from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder. She smiled, enjoying that affection, and handed him a glass before turning around, facing her husband.

It was then that she realized he was deep in thought. His expression changed subtly, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"What it was?"

"There's something I've been thinking about since our fight..." Y/n waited, curious, until he finally revealed: "I want to retire from racing."

Y/n's world seemed to stop for a second. "WHAT?!" She exclaimed, looking at him in surprise. And almost dropping the glass she was holding.

Lewis remained calm and repeated: "I want to retire."

Y/n blinked, processing that, and stepped back a little, starting to pace around the kitchen. "Lewis, you can't do this!" Her voice came out fast, almost nervous. "You're only in your second season with Ferrari! You can still win so many titles! And, my God, I never wanted you to give up on your dream because of a silly fight we had. We've worked this out! You can't give up on your dreams!"

Her words came out in a rush, her mind wandering, and she felt her eyes fill with tears.

Lewis smiled and walked closer to her, cupping her face gently. "Y/n, I'm not letting go of a dream," he said softly. "Because everything I've ever dreamed of is right here, right in front of me."

Her eyes filled even more, and a tear fell silently.

"But..." She whispered, not knowing exactly what to say. Without the strength to argue any further, she let herself be wrapped in Lewis's arms, resting her head on his shoulder. "You've always dreamed of this..." Her voice was muffled against his chest.

Lewis stroked her hair and smiled against the side of her head. "My dream has always been to have a family. To have you guys. Racing has been a big part of my life, but it's not my whole life. I want to be here for every moment of the girls, for every phase of our life together. That...that's what really matters to me."

Y/n closed her eyes, absorbing those words, feeling herself overcome by an intense wave of emotion.

"Do you really want this?"

"I do. With all my heart." She pulled back a little, looking into his eyes, and Lewis smiled, touching her face tenderly. "I love you" he said softly.

Y/n smiled, still with tears in her eyes, and shook her head. "I love you too, Lewis."

Lewis slid his fingers down Y/n's face before finally sealing his lips on hers. The kiss was slow, full of feelings, as if it sealed everything they had just said. Their lips moved in perfect sync, and a small smile formed in the middle of the kiss, as if they were celebrating that moment. It was a kiss of love, of understanding, of silent promises.

Suddenly, a horn honked loudly from outside, breaking the moment. Y/n smiled against Lewis's lips and pulled away, chuckling softly.

"The girls are here" she said, giving him one last peck before walking away completely. "I'll go get them."

Lewis smiled, watching her rush towards the door. As soon as she opened it, the girls practically threw themselves into her arms, laughing and hugging their mother tightly.

"Mommy!" Pietra exclaimed excitedly, while Marie held tightly onto Y/n's waist.

Y/n laughed and bent down, planting kisses on them before saying in a mysterious voice, "I think there's something waiting for you in the kitchen."

Pietra's eyes widened, always the most excited, and suddenly screamed: "OH MY GOD, IS THERE STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM?"

She ran into the house with her sister, running towards the kitchen without even confirming if what she said was true. Linda, Anthony and Y/n burst out laughing, infected by the girl's naive excitement.

"Thank you for keeping them" Y/n said, smiling at them.

"Imagine, dear" Linda replied. "We are the ones who appreciate you spending time with our granddaughters."

Y/n smiles. "We can arrange dinner here tomorrow. Are you up for it?"

"Sure!" Linda says smiling.

"We'd love it!"

"Great then" Y/n smiles. With that, they say their goodbyes, exchanging hugs before Linda and Anthony leave.

Y/n closed the door and began walking to the kitchen, hearing the mix of her daughters' and Lewis' voices echoing through the room. The sound filled her chest with a cozy warmth, and an involuntary smile appeared on her face.

When he entered the kitchen, he saw a scene that made his heart warm even more: Marie was on Lewis' lap, along with Pietra, while the two laughed and chatted excitedly.

Suddenly, Marie turned to Y/n with a bright smile and asked, "Did Daddy come home?"

Y/n looked at Lewis, who was already watching her with a tender smile. Her heart clenched with love.

"Yes, my dear. Daddy's back!" She said softly.

The girls squealed excitedly and wrapped their father in a tight hug, making Lewis laugh. He then looked at Y/n and extended one of his arms to her.

"Come here, love"

Y/n smiled and walked over to them, joining the family's embrace. Between laughter, kisses and hugs, she knew, in that moment, that they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

Author: So, my initial idea was to have the ending with Y/n saying she was pregnant with her third child, but I didn't know if you guys would like it, so I changed it to the idea of Lewis retiring. I don't know, which one would you like more? (By the way, whoever read the introduction above, could you answer the question I left? About continuing with a parallel universe of this family?)

#fanfiction #y/n #romance #imagines #one shot #marriage #formula 1 #formula one #fem reader #female reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x y/n #dad and daughter #mom and dad

101 notes · View notes

thatbitchery · 2 days ago

Text

Last night decided to give in to the pressure and watch Love is Blind Habibi 100% for Nour because apparently we are bringing feminine and classy back and now see I know the bar is in hell I really do and I will give credit where credit is du ma'am knows how to hold herself but then she did the dumb girl thing and I had to pause the show and take a walk around town to cool down the second hand embarrassment of someone that seems to have it all just- falling apart but on national TV.

Ladies we DO NOT tell people our standards we live by them and they either match up or fall off. When ma'am said she does not pay the bill she needs to- I had to go take a breather and recollect myself because. Ma'am. 100% of all the crap she went through on that show would have been avoided if she wasn't trying so hard to be this season's IT girl (it worked though, she is. So from a marketing perspective - 10/10). We do NOT tell people what our standards and expectations are we live them and either they are it or they are NOT.

Shut Up and Do You then go home.

EVERYTHING. EVERY single THING that you say not only can but will, as a matter of undeniable and unavoidable fact, WILL BE USED AGAINST YOU in the court of social groups. Learn to SHUT your mouth. This is where therapists and I don't match up, they want you to be open and communicate and I want you to (in real life)

NEVER part with a fact unless you have to

Shut uppppp and observe

After initial outspreading, DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS YOU'RE SPOKEN TO

If you can't do this have an anon account on here and on Instagram or something and yap and say all that and be real so you can satisfy that need/desire and move on be a baddie IRL.

Human and literally animal communication is non verbal/literate. Even before you say anything subconsciously we have you boxed, but we can't quite put a finger on what we already know. Like that weird guy said in that equally weird interview- the thing with Noor is that she's a liar. Her actions do not match her words. She's fake. Because Queens don't tell kings treat me like a queen it just happens. Because queens live like Queens and everyone just automatically fall inro service.

If i had a dollar for every time I was told 'I told him/ her I don't like X and they still did it and now I'm hurt' uh huh and you deserve it. And I pray to God it keeps happening till you learn your lesson and stop being embarrasing.

Human beings- specifically men, are naturally competitive and combative. They want to turn No into Yes. When you tell a man no he automatically wants to make it a yes if they didn't we as a species would have died when the meat said no don't hunt me and they said aight bro bye. It takes combat to be a hunter. It's instinct. Notice how when you tell a man something they do the exact opposite. It's instinct. Outside men it's human and animal instinct to want to survive for longer by preserving energy so people naturally push boundaries & you see it so much in kids when you say don't do that and they do it looking at you to see if they can preserve the energy of not doing that by just overruning you. People are naturally combative we pyush boundaries that's why we have aeroplanes someone pushed the walking boundary.

No oneee wants to be told what to do. No oneeeeee. Not even you. It's degrading. It assumes you have no free will or the comprehension to exercise it and naturally people will fight back to maintain their independence.

You do know you're teaching people how to manipulate you do ypu not? By telling them what you like or dislike from the onset you take away the requirement to work hard to know you and handing them yourself on a platter. You tell a man you like flowers you give him a great path to just manipulate you bc now he can just buy you them whenever you're mad and it's good? If you shut it he'd have had to figure that out which would stress him which would force him to cherish you because he had to work? When you tell a girl 'don't talk to me like that' you teach her how to tick and trigger you but if you'd just walked out or shut her out she'd have had to make her way back?

I don't have standards for men because I have standards for me. Or friends or family. I'm a narcissist so I run everything by me to decide if it's worth it or not and just remove myself? I buy myself flowers sir? I don't talk to myself like that? I don't do that to me why the fuck would you think you can?

Shut. It.

53 notes · View notes

deaddovedecadence · 2 days ago

Note

"trans tim making reader chose the strap they want to get fucked with."

"cass is generally uninterested in sex but loves to have you in her lap and kissing you while your being fucked."

"dick is always trying to teach you how to fuck tim but invevitably ends up with reader being fucked by Tim while dick fucks him."

I don't know why but I got so turned on by this! Can we get a few headcannons about this? Absolutely perfect.

Trans tim supremacy

Tim is honestly a really mean dom because he learned to dom from Damian who is mean. Sure he could have learned from someone else but he thinks that Damian's teaching voice is hot.

he likes to make reader choose from a selection of big straps and/or dildos because he's both a masochist and a sadist.

sometimes he does want something gentle. That's when he'll eat darling out or kiss them gently and remind them why they like him so much, remind them that Tim could be so good to them if they stopped fighting so hard

likes to tag team darling with Damian or dick because they're so good at managing two at once, and with Jason there's a lot of push and pull between them. doesn't want darling to see the family as anything but a united front

the cruelest when it comes to punishing you because he's so tired of having to fight darling, don't they see that the family is saving them? protecting them?

Cass is demisexual and honestly isn't really that interested in sex. She's not on the aromantic spectrum at all and loves romance and affection because it reminds that she has a choice, that she is strong.

generally isn't really that interested in sex like i said but when she is, she's a service dom. likes to take care of darling because she views them as weak and something to protect.

Cass likes to work with steph who's a switch and is generally a chaos causer even when she's domming.

dick is always trying to help tim and darling get along so he figured darling feeling like they have some sort of power even though they don't would help.

Dick gets bored, and easily. darling is having fun but he's not so he needs to fuck everything up.

feels like having Tim fuck darling while he watches which is fun for both him and Tim but darling gets overwhelmed by the both of them together

#yandere #batboy tag #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #romantic yandere #yandere romantic #batcest #stephcass

39 notes · View notes

marylight098 · 2 days ago

Text

꧁Blossoming Love ꧂

Summary: It was a normal day for you: tending the garden... painting... taking care of your aunt... being the healer of your village... amongst other things. That's until you find a dying kitsune close to your village pleading for your help; in a world where mythical creatures marginalized humans and humans tried their best to live hidden from them all. But you weren't just going to leave him there to die (even if you were full of fear). As always... empathy was one of the biggest weaknesses a human could have. And sadly you were one of those humans.

Rating: 🔞 mature bruh

Couple💕: Jeon Jungkook/Reader

Tags/Warnings 🚨🗯️: Fluff and Smut, Spit Kink, Hybrid Jeon Jungkook, Kitsune, Fantasy, alternate universe, Light Masochism, Dirty Talk, romantic, Animal Instincts, Past Lives, Oral Sex, Loss of Virginity, healer of the town, human and kitsune, Painter Jeon Jungkook, Painting, draw me like one of your french girls lol, Fox, Masturbation, some choking, He loves the smell of your arousal, Creampie

Word count: 15,541

Side notes: i usually write about dreams I’ve had. This is one of them. And if you see typos or something similar… english is not my first language; sorry 🤡 Im just testing the waters here… i usually post only in Ao3…. Meh hope you dont hate it lol

Pic of JK by @jkxxth1 (tiktok)

🌸

Your hometown was small; it only consisted of a few houses and a small plaza where everybody gathered to do their activities or do festivals. All of you were part of the small percentage of humans who still resided in this world full of mythical creatures; looked down upon because of your “weak useless nature”.

But the majority of you didn't care much for the opinions of the other races. You all knew you were so much more than what they had stamped on your foreheads.

You smiled to yourself as you painted the mountains on your canvas, thinking how lucky you felt to be part of these people. But that was not the only reason you were smiling right now… you were also smiling because you could hear your aunt fighting in the background with one of your chickens because it had pooped on her balcony.

You were laughing now as your aunt kept arguing with the chicken as if she could understand her. She quickly noticed, giving you a glare. But even though she was trying to be intimidating at first, she ended up giving in with a smile.

“Don't laugh, _____. This is a serious situation.”

“Yes, auntie… it's very serious that one of our chickens shat on your balcony.” You nodded and continued laughing.

She shook her head with a sigh and a smile, accepting defeat. “Could you at least bring me a bucket of water to clean it? My ankle still hurts from the fall. You would do me a great —”

“Of course, auntie.” You cut her off, giving her a reassuring smile. “No need to explain yourself; I understand.”

“Thank you, darling.” She returned the smile.

“I'll make sure to watch over your painting so the chicken doesn't leave his… “signature” on it.” She said, side-eyeing the chicken.

You laughed once more before making your way to the village’s well.

Your aunt wasn't the type to ask for favors; she always believed in being independent and doing things for her own growth as a person, and of course so she could give her all to the family and dear friends. So on rare occasions like these, you and others close to her, were always glad to help and return all that love she had always given you throughout the years.

For you, she was a role model you aspired to be.

“Great… There is a spider on the edge of the well. And it’s a big one.” You sarcastically smiled as you kept your distance; your bucket now placed on the floor as your hands rested on your hips.

Your village was in an open area where there were no trees. But around it, a forest resided and so did the well of the village… and spiders. Which was one of your biggest fears.

You didn't want to kill it. You may be scared of them but you know they are part of nature and you have to learn to live with them.

You thought of using a stick to get it off but you knew that was just going to be chaos: not knowing where it was going to run to. And you certainly didn't want it crawling up your legs or arms.

A chill ran up your spine just at the thought.

So you just decided it was best to ask someone else for help.

Grabbing your bucket, you turned around to go back to the village.

“P- Ple -ease help m-me.”

You had only taken a few steps when you heard the pleads; the voice was not recognizable to you. It was a man’s…

With your heart almost popping out of your chest, you quickly turned around to be aware of where the man was just in case you needed to defend yourself. But…

You were faced with a pale weak man whose face was covered by a fox mask and hands were placed over a wound under his ribcage, which had and was noticeably bleeding.

“A kitsune…” you spoke under your breath.

How many hours had this man been bleeding? And why hadn't he been healed? But most importantly of all: what was he doing here alone? He was a kitsune… a mythical creature that was supposed to be with his kind right now; not here which was really far away. Was he running away from someone? Was this a hoax?

“Please. I-I’m not here to— hurt you.”

He had noticed your uncertainty and alertness.

You didn't want to believe him.. you really didn't. You were scared of what could happen and the dangers you could be putting your village in. But you could see the sincerity in his eyes that stood out through the mask. Plus he was bleeding to death, what more proof could you ask for?

Dropping your bucket once more, you hurried up to him, placing his arm around your shoulders and letting him lean on you. You were struggling obviously; you weren't as strong as a man. But you could get through. And, thankfully, the village wasn't far away.

“Than—argh!— Thank y-you, madam.” He grunted as he tried not to put so much weight on you.

“Don't force yourself to talk. And you don't have to thank me; it's immoral to leave a man to their death per se.”

Plus you don't have to address me formally either. You thought to yourself.

You could tell he wanted to say more but kept quiet.

As soon as you were back at the village, you immediately began to call for help. Only a few of them came to help since others were intimidated that he was a kitsune; it was understandable. Kitsunes were known for mischief, being playful and deceiving. But you knew that was not the main reason they were intimidating. It was mostly because of their high rank amongst you living creatures; they were known also for their riches alongside other mythical creatures.

One of the villagers saw you struggling with the injured man, so he rapidly went to his other side to help you carry him. Your aunt was also one to respond, quickly going inside your house to prepare the necessary materials to help with his wound before you got there. She also prepared the large table you had for these types of emergencies to lay him on.

“Do you need anything else, ____?” Your aunt pointed at the items she had placed for you to work with.

You shook your head. “No; it’s all I need; thank you.”

She left the room quickly with the man that had helped, knowing it would be more comfortable for you and him that way. But even so, she stayed close by just in case.

Your hands began working instantly; cleaning up the area first. There were a lot of questions in your mind and they all involved the kitsune. How exactly did he end up here? Who was following him? Who or what attacked him? Who was he?

But you reserved the questions for later; making him talk in this state wasn't a very bright idea. Right now you had to focus on patching him and making him feel less pain.

Surprisingly, he wasn't flinching as much as you thought he would be; this is definitely not his first time being injured like this. Only some low grunts and furrowed eyebrows could be seen and heard.

After cleaning up, you grabbed your well-known elixir that you used for wounds like these. Us humans didn't have magic nor any special abilities. But you did have the desire to innovate and progress.

“W-what is that?” He asked, still having some difficulty breathing.

You momentarily looked up to him, eyes more visible since you are closer now. You gulped, remembering what you were treating.

You felt intimidated for a second, remembering all those tales you had heard and moments you had seen with your own eyes where creatures like him would take advantage of your people.

He noticed.

“I a-al- mm- already said, I-I’m not going to h-hurt you.” He gulped with his eyes closed as he tolerated the pain.

“Trust me…” he opened his eyes to look at you. “I would never hurt you.” He reassured you.

And, again, you could see the sincerity through his eyes so you relaxed once more.

“This… this is an elixir I made using an old recipe my village has. It’s for curing wounds like you have. But I will have to add something else for this one.”

“Why?” He asked.

“Because I can tell this was made by another kitsune by the shape of it and because it doesn't want to close. A kitsune’s main weakness will always be their own kind.” You replied.

“How… do you k-know this?”

“Because I’m the healer of my town.” You smiled at him as you opened the other elixir. “And I've treated a few like you before.”

“Like… me?” He weakly pointed at himself.

“Yes. But those were already friends or family with the village people. We don't usually allow Kitsunes here… or any other kind of creature… you know… for safety reasons.” You nervously laughed; still trying to make peace with him as if he hadn't stated enough that he is not going to hurt you.

Again, he noticed the way your eyes immediately averted to his wounds after speaking. He didn't say anything this time; he knew he'd have to instead show through actions his words. He just remained in silence as you finished with his wound; not wanting to stare at you so much to not make you nervous… even though he wanted to; the reason why he would take occasional sneaky glances.

But he couldn't watch you finish, as he soon fell asleep from exhaustion.

Your people were quick to ask you questions in the morning, worried about the unknown kitsune at their village; except for the few mythical creatures that resided there, since they didn't feel the right to judge. And you explained to each one of them about the situation, trying to remain calm as you did to not freak them out even more. You, yourself, were also a bit worried. But you had decided to trust and have the faith that the kitsune wouldn't take advantage of your village. His sincere eyes still hadn’t left your mind; you knew they were real; you felt it. So it was better to trust your heart rather than your anxiety.

As you finished explaining to one of the villagers, your aunt called you from the balcony of your house.

“He’s awake. And he is asking for you.” She called.

You gave your goodbyes to the villager and went rapidly to your house.

“Thanks for letting me know, auntie.” You smiled as your hand reached the door handle, but it was stopped by another familiar hand.

“You sure you’ll be alright all by yourself?” She asked with concerned eyes.

“I'll be fine, auntie. I'm still going to be careful so don't worry.”

“Ok.” She nodded, still noticeably concerned but decided to trust your words, leaving the area. But letting someone know to be attentive just in case.

As you entered, you noticed him standing as he curiously inspected the medicines on your shelf, one hand pressing on the wound.

But that was not the only thing you noticed. There were scars… old deep scars on his back. As if he had received some sort of punishment. You let it go; it was not the time, place nor situation to ask something so personal. It was not like he was going to stay for long anyway; getting close to him was unnecessary.

“Well you healed quickly.” You spoke with a smile, coming closer to him. But not too close.

“And that is thanks to you and these… potions? Are you a witch?” He asked as his eyes now laid on you.

You chuckled. “No, I'm not a witch. I'm just a plain human with very intelligent ancestors who crafted all those medicines and I happened to perfect them.”

“That’s… incredible!”

There it was again: that sincerity.

You blushed. “Thank you umm…”

“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”

He still had his mask on. You were so curious of what was underneath, but did not want to disrespect him so you remained silent.

“Can I check your wound?” You asked him.

“Y- yes, of course.” He replied as he snapped out of a trance. A trance you had put him on since he arrived there.

He was already shirtless so you were quick to get to the wound, removing its bandages first. As you did, you became really conscious of how close you were with this kitsune, feeling his breathing collide with your face occasionally. You were trying so hard not to touch him. But it was inevitable.

“Sorry if I'm being inappropriate.” You said nervously.

“No, not at all.”

“I don't mind.” He added.

You ignored his last comment, not wanting to think it had another meaning behind it.

He just said it casually, that’s all. You repeated in your mind.

After finishing checking his wound and adding more medicine, you patched him up once again with clean bandages.

“Ok so…” you clapped your hands together.

“Good news is, you have healed almost completely; which not only has to do with my medicines, but because you are a kitsune and kitsunes heal faster if treated properly.”

He nodded.

“Bad news is… you’ll have to stay a few days more to make sure it heals completely.” You added with a sympathetic look, knowing he probably wouldn't like the idea.

“But you don't have—“

“I'm ok with it.”

You didn't get to finish your sentence; he already had the answer as if he had been expecting your suggestion.

“Oh! Ok. Ummm… Jungkook, right?”

He nodded; sparkle in his eyes as excitement ran through his veins knowing he would get to wake up to your presence.

“You can keep resting on the couch; that will be your bed for now if you don't mind.”

“I don't.”

“Perfect then let me notify the village.”

You were about to leave when he stopped you.

“Wait! Can I come with you?” He asked.

“S-sure.” You replied, taken aback by his sudden request.

“Let me take this off first.” He added as he took off his mask.

Your lips fell apart, taking in the beauty the kitsune held as he laid the mask on the couch. It was true what the rumors said: kitsunes were born with undeniable and inexplicable beauty. But it was understandable since they were born to charm. They always got their way; it was rare to see a kitsune who wasn't able to seduce or charm their target; they had a gift.

“Don't wanna scare anyone more than they already are.” He nervously chuckled as his hand ruffled his hair.

Your curiosity had been fed. And you couldn't help but to become shy and self conscious. Being around an attractive person always makes you feel nervous.

“It’s— it's ok.” You struggled to speak for a second. “They will eventually warm up to you; we’ve had kitsunes before so don't worry so much.”

As he saw your reassuring smile, the kitsune wondered if the rumors he had heard about humans were true: that they secretly possessed the ability to enchant or seduce other creatures like himself. As time passed, more and more creatures of high rank were eloping with humans to the point where it was getting normal. Things were changing, but the hate and contempt against humans was still there. And all of you knew it was going to be hard for it to leave. But he didn't care about what other people thought; he saw all creatures as equals even if they were mortals. And right now, he was ready to risk it all for you.

You both went outside to greet the villagers; you being up front and Jungkook following behind like a puppy, trying his best to make people like him.

You introduced Jungkook to each one of the villagers, also explaining the situation and why he was going to stay a few days more. It was necessary and it was also common courtesy; it was a random stranger that had entered the village and the “cherry on the top” being that he was a kitsune. This way people could be alert for any weird movements from the kitsune.

Jungkook bowed multiple times to each one of the villagers with a “thank you” and “sorry for the inconvenience”. He had already conquered the hearts of many. Not only because of his cuteness but, of course, because of his beauty. You could tell some of your friends were already trying to flirt with him. And you just couldn't help but to shake your head at them. Of course, there were always the doubtful ones that still didn't trust him. But did not treat him badly either.

The two kitsunes we had were the quickest to bond with him, for obvious reasons.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook. I’m Jimin and this is Hoseok.” Both bowed to him and Jungkook did the same. It was a common thing between their kind.

“Glad to see there is another kitsune as handsome as us staying here too.” Jimin said, making Hoseok roll his eyes.

“He is only staying here for a few days until he gets better.” You quickly intervened.

“Oh, ok.” Hoseok said, a little bit disappointed he wasn't staying; he could feel he wasn't a bad guy. But it was understandable to him and Jimin.

Jungkook’s expression changed as soon as you said those words and both of them saw right through their fellow kitsune. They both looked at each other, knowing all too well this situation: a kitsune falling for a human. They both had eloped with humans after all.

Well at least they hoped this was the case. They truly wanted you to be happy and being taken care of; both of them knew how devoted you were with your people. So they saw this as an opportunity for all that love to be returned to you.

After Jimin’s fanboying over Jungkook, you said your goodbyes to them and ended up in front of your house once again. But before you both entered, you remembered the painting you had left outside to dry. You needed to take it inside; chickens, pigeons and kids… they were all hazards to the painting.

“Oh! Give me a second.” You said to him.

The painting had turned out satisfying enough for you to showcase and you were proud. Even though you had some interruptions while trying to finish it… you were able to finish it on time.

Jungkook’s eyes followed you as you grabbed it and went inside the house, following behind.

“Were you the one to paint that?” He pointed, as you placed it on the table.

“Yes, I did.” You smiled, proceeding to cover up the painting with a blanket to protect it.

“Then teach me how to paint.”

You quickly turned to him, mouth falling open at his bold unexpected request.

“Pardon?”

“I want you to teach me how to paint, madam.” He said, taking a few steps closer to you.

“I… I’m no teacher, sir. And you are only staying for a couple of days.” You backed up a little.

“What if I wanted to stay longer?” His eyes sparkled.

Silence.

You had a lot of doubts at that moment. A random stranger had appeared out of nowhere and now he wanted to live there. And it's not like he seemed to not have money nor a home. You could tell that he was from a wealthy family because of his clothing.

“Why do you want to stay?” You asked.

“Just a hunch.”

“A hunch?” You repeated him, and he just nodded with a soft smile, showing one of his dimples.

Kitsunes were known to be very intuitive and spiritual, and you knew this very well. But you didn't think there was any purpose in him staying here when he clearly had it all. But you also knew that was a very ignorant thought. Still… why stay here?

A chuckle couldn't help but to escape your mouth at his absurd response. “You are a wealthy kitsune Jeon Jungkook, why would you want to stay here?”

“I may look like I don't, but I prefer simplicity over luxury.”

“And how can I trust you?”

“Give me a month and I'll prove to you and your village that I am worthy of staying here.”

You took a deep breath and exhaled, fear and worry crippling on you.

It wouldn't be fair to not give him an opportunity like the other kitsunes had. And besides… if he were to turn against you all… you not only had two kitsunes as your allies, but also a werewolf, a nymph and a fallen angel. It was a weird combination you had to admit, but a powerful one.

“I’ll talk to the village. But I do not guarantee anything.”

And his smile grew into an enthusiastic grin.

. . .

“I think we were wrong about him.” Your aunt said as you both sipped some chamomile tea on her balcony, watching the kitsune before you try to convince a kid it was time to go to bed after playing with him for hours. It was a funny sight indeed.

“It's only been a week, auntie. At least my trust isn't there yet.”

“Oh, come on. He has bonded with the village so well as if he had lived here for weeks already. People love him; he has helped with so many things.''

“I find it highly amusing how you were the most defensive about him staying here and now look at you.”

The kid had now started to run with Jungkook’s mask and he was now not only trying to get him to bed, but also trying to save his precious dignity.

You snorted out a laugh, making you cover your mouth with your hand, not being able to hold it in anymore.

“Don't come at me with that poop, darling. You like him too.”

“Poop? Seriously? And I do not like him, I only find him amusing.” You shook her head at her with a chuckle.

“You know I do not curse… and you do like him; just with the smile you're making at him right now… it says it all. Maybe… even more than a friend.” She sipped the tea right after.

You choked on your tea. “I do not— cough like him like— cough that.” Eyes watering.

She just shook her head at you knowingly; your reaction was enough for her. You weren't the type to get flustered easily. “Enough with the lying and go get me some apples so we can bake that big apple-pie for tomorrow’s showcase.”

“But I'm comfy right now.” You whined.

“And you are younger than me, so get going. Just ask Jungkook to accompany you like you always do when you are scared of finding spiders.”

“Hey! I can happily go alone.”

“Yeah, and the Earth is flat. Go on now, I'll be waiting inside.” She said, standing up and going inside as said with both of your teacups.

“Ugh!”

Reality was that you did want Jungkook to accompany you. Not only because of the spiders but because you actually liked his company as much as you hated to admit. He was funny, intelligent, caring, sensitive…

What the hell am I even thinking? Remember _____, he is a kitsune and they have the ability to charm; snap out of it.

Still, it wasn't that bad to indulge in those wants… right?

“Kai! Give him the mask back!” You scolded the child.

The kid immediately stopped running and stood straight as a stick, quickly handing the mask to Jungkook.

“Apologize and go to your mother’s house.”

“But I don't wanna go to sleep! The sun is still out.” The kid whined.

“It’s setting down already so you need to go get ready for bed; mother’s rules.”

The kid whined one last time, apologized and left for his house.

“Thanks for that. That was nice of you.” He cleared his throat. “… and hot.” That last part wasn't heard by you.

“Accompany me to the apple trees and we will call it even.”

“Scared of the spiders again?” Jungkook laughed.

You began mocking his laugh. “And do you wanna talk about how a kid took your mask and you couldn't get it back?

His laughter immediately toned down. “Hey! I almost had it in my hands again!”

“Yeah, right.” You started laughing again, remembering the scene.

“Have a nice time with the spiders then.” He smiled knowingly, turning his back at you as he began to walk away.

“Nooo!” You exclaimed at him, grabbing his arm.

You didn't see it. But he was smirking while he had his back turned to you. He liked knowing that you needed him. He wished you needed him more; In all types of ways.

Where the trees resided, wasn't so far away. But it did take a bit to get there. And since the night was starting to set in, you had a little more difficulty seeing even though you brought a lamp with you.

Jungkook on the other hand didn't have any problem with it since he could see at night, he was a fox after all. For that reason he didn't take his eyes off of you, worrying you might fall. But you didn't gladly. Even though he wanted an excuse to touch you.

There were already some lamps surrounding the trees and other crops since sometimes our people needed crops during the night for emergencies or just random hunger.

You quickly began to work using a ladder to lower the apples as Jungkook stayed on the ground waiting for you to throw him the apples so he could put them in the basket. At one point an apple fell on Jungkook’s head and you couldn't help but to laugh at him as he looked at you annoyed. But at the end he couldn't resist laughing too.

After you finished, you decided to take a break close to the nearby pond, drinking some water while you were at it. But Jungkook had other plans, he wanted to take revenge because of the apple on his head.

“Oh my god, _____! There is a big spider crawling on you!” He shouted.

You gasped. “What?! Where?!”

You quickly stood up trying to shake off whatever you had on you. But then you heard Jungkook laughing so loud, tears were forming in his eyes. And that's when it clicked.

“You ass—-” But your words got cut off as you tripped on a heavy branch and fell on your knees.

“Shit, _____. Are you ok?!” Jungkook’s laugh immediately stopped, quickly going towards you to help and check on you.

You sat on the ground and you raised your skirt up till you saw the knee that was hurting. And that's when both of you noticed you were bleeding.

“Fuck. I-I’m sorry, _____. Let me cure you.” he quickly grabbed your knee regretting ever scaring you like that.

Your anger had toned down; now you were more embarrassed than angry.

“I’ll cure myself at home, it’s ok.”

“That’s nonsense when I can just save you some pain by using my powers.”

“Powers?” You tilted your head to the side with a thoughtful look on your face, not remembering anything about kitsunes being able to heal. But, again, you only knew the basics.

“Here, I'll show you.” He said as he carefully straightened your leg for you to be more comfortable.

One of his hands went on top of your wound, being careful not to touch it, while his other hand rested on the backside of your knee. And a blue light began emerging from his hand to your wound.

“It will take a minute or two, so bear with me.” he said as he focused on your knee.

Gladly you didn't feel any pain. But the adrenaline from the scare and the fall began to dissipate and you were now conscious of where he was touching. You didn't want to think of it as anything else so talking was the best option to distract yourself from your body’s reaction.

“You know your little prank is going to cost you an art lesson, right?”

“Oh, come on. I’m healing you. I’m making up for my sin.”

“Pffft.” You laughed. “Don't say it like that, it wasn't that bad.”

“Well I am trying to convince you not to take an art lesson from our week.”

“I don't know why you want them so badly. You already know how to paint. Besides, you never pay attention to my lessons; you…always… stare at my face. I don't know why.” You chuckled nervously. Recalling all the moments he would drift his attention from his canvas to you, making you feel insecure. You kind of wanted an explanation of why he did that so maybe you would stop feeling so self conscious at your lessons.

His eyes lifted up to you for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but went back to your knee. “I… still need work and you know it.”

“True.” You responded, feeling even more insecure since he didn't comment on the “staring”.

The atmosphere had turned serious and you could feel it, mainly from him. You felt a little bit awkward because of it.

“Done.” The blue light faded and the wound had disappeared; you were completely amazed by it.

“That is amazing. I didn't know kitsunes could do that.” You said, staring at your now healed wound.

But Jungkook didn't say anything back nor did he take his hand or eyes off of your knee; you noticed quickly.

“Jungkook?” You questioned him, nervous you had said something wrong.

His eyes were trailing now to your still covered thighs as his thumb caressed where the wound used to be. And you could feel your heartbeat starting to accelerate.

Your skirt was now being lifted up centimeter by centimeter, slowly and steadily; thigh becoming bare to him before your eyes.

A broken gasp came out of your lips as his hand went up, making him look up at you. Both of you know staring into each other's eyes. The coldness of the night being ignored by your lustful warm body. Your leg was now fully exposed to him to do as he pleased. He didn't stop looking at you as his hand went up and down your thigh with a firm grasp, teasing you; getting dangerously close to your slit with some strokes.

“You still don't get it, huh?”

His head lowered to your inner thigh and began sucking on the skin.

“Fuck…” You said under your breath.

This feeling was new to you; you had never been with a man despising occasional confessions. Yes you had touched yourself, but this was different. You felt your chest fill with an overwhelming lust and slit starting to ache.

After leaving a noticeable red spot, he began kissing the rest of your thigh, momentarily licking a stripe from your knee to your upper thigh and rubbing his forehead against it, ending with a soft bite. After doing so, his eyes returned to yours.

“I stare at you because I think you are beautiful.”

“Not only because of your body but because of who you are.”

“I want to be around you every minute of the day.”

His hand was now stagnant as it laid dangerously close to your slit once more. “Be mine, ______.”

Be mine. You repeated in your head. And that's when you snapped out of it. You remembered they had the gift to get anything they wanted and for you this was an attempt to do so. So you immediately pulled your leg off of his grasp, leaving him with a confused look.

“I-I can’t.” You shook your head scared.

“What?” his eyes were now full of preoccupation as he saw you stand up and walk away from him.

“_____! Wait!” He said as he stood up and grabbed the basket with apples. But you began running, not wanting him close to you as you were scared of him and yourself.

He also began to run towards you calling out to you. He could easily outrun you but he decided to not overwhelm you and just call you from afar.

You continued running despising his calls, eyes blurry from the tears, confused on what to feel or do. It felt like an eternity running, even though it wasn't. That's until you collided with another body, you were going to back away immediately thinking it was him again. But when you were about to run away, the body held you still forcing you to look up and that's when you calmed down a bit.

“____! Are you ok?!” Jimin asked worriedly.

“I… I don't know.”

As Jimin lifted his gaze up to see what you were running from, he saw Jungkook. He was going to confront him until he noticed he was equally as confused. So he decided it was best to leave it like that until he heard you talk.

“Let’s go to my house, Erika is there too so you can talk to us.”

Hearing one of your best friend’s name gave you another reason to calm down.

You nodded.

Before taking you to his house, he gave Jungkook one last look. And he could tell he was worried and at the same time scared. And that gave him the confirmation he needed to wait it out.

As soon as Erika saw you entering through the door, her expression changed.

“____, is everything ok? Did something happen?” she worried as she guided you to the living room’s sofa for you to sit and relax.

“Darling, please bring me a glass of water for her.” She told Jimin and he instantly went to the kitchen to prepare one.

“Please tell me what happened, _____. Don’t leave me worried like sometimes you do. Give me the opportunity to help you once in a while.” Erika said, hand resting on your shoulder.

She knew you very well, how sometimes you would hold onto things to not bother anyone.

Jimin returned with the glass of water and gave it to you.

You drank up a little bit before pondering over what to say. But in the end you concluded it was best to open up to them. One, because you didn't want them to think they were untrustworthy to you. And second, because your best friend was married to a kitsune. And what could be better than advice from a kitsune, himself, and his wife on this situation?

“Erika… Jimin… how– how do you know when a kitsune is mind controlling you?” A mixture of worry and shyness was evident on you, so your eyes stuck to the glass of water to hide them.

But silence was your response. And anxiety was quick to show up.

Is the situation worse than I thought? Did they already realize who I'm talking about? Did I offend Jimin and their relationship? Was I wrong?

Your mind was spiraling with questions. That’s until you decided to look up and face them. And instead of anger or worry, you were greeted with a Jimin who was trying his best to hold his laughter in. But in the end failed.

And all that could be heard was his laughter.

“Welp… prepared to be bullied for the rest of your life.” Erika said to you.

“What?” You were dumbfounded and confused. You just wanted him to finish laughing so you could finally hear his answer.

“Pfffft, it's that what you think we do?” He just continued laughing.

“Jimin, I'm serious. Please answer me.” You grew impatient.

He calmed himself down, whipping tears off of his face. “Fine, fine. I'll calm down now.”

He sat to the opposite side of you; now you were in between them.

“Look _____, I don't know from where you got that information but it's incorrect. Kitsunes do possess the ability to charm but it's because of their natural beauty and art of seduction. It comes natural to us. And it doesn't always work on everybody. Erika… She would be an example. Remember? She was a pain in the ass to conquer.” He rolled his eyes at her.

“What can I say? I just don't give up this piece of ass that easily.” She shrugged and Jimin just shook his head at her.

Red… you were completely red from embarrassment. All this time you were only listening to assumptions from other people and anxiety instead of doing actual research. Like for fuck’s sake you had two kitsunes as you friends. But you just felt embarrassed to ask. Even so, the result was the same: embarrassment. You had learned your lesson.

“Hey… does that mean you never trusted me and Hoseok?” His eyes went into shock mode. As he slowly realized that maybe you never even considered him or Hoseok a friend.

“N-n-no… w-well—-“

“I’m hurt right now.” Jimin said standing up with a pout that was more adorable than intimidating.

“Listen to me! It was only at the beginning but as I got to know you guys I began to trust you with time. And seeing how Erika and Delilah took time to be in a relationship with you guys, then I thought: hey, they are actually trustworthy; they didn't use their powers to make them fall in love.”

“Do you understand what I'm trying to say?” You added.

“Next time just ask us, please. I know us mythical creatures have a bad reputation among humans, but I can assure you, not all of us are snob assholes.” Jimin replied and you just nodded, not able to look him in the eye from the lingering embarrassment.

“Remember, we don't bite.” Jimin’s gaze landed on his wife: Erika. “Unless you want us too.” He winked.

“You are cringe.” Erika replied to his not so subtle innuendo, making you laugh for a moment.

“I agree." An unexpected, but all too familiar voice spoke. All eyes were now on one of the open windows that looked to the balcony where a Hoseok now stood resting his body on the edge of it.

“What the fuck? You were eavesdropping?!” Jimin exclaimed.

“Yes, but that's because I saw the whole thing and got worried.”

“Wait… who else saw what happened?” You quickly asked as embarrassment began to cripple on you once more. You only remember running until you collided with Jimin. But you didn't pay much attention to your surroundings.

“Who cares? What you should be worrying about is how you are going to repay me for defamation and violation of the friend code. Try making me noodles for a week and then maybe I'll forgive you.” Hoseok said.

“Oh! I want too!” Jimin added.

“You guys are asses.” Erika shook her head but then turned her attention to you while the two men planned on how to bother you for the next week.

You had gone into deep thought, analyzing yourself and trying to decipher your feelings towards him. If he wasn't “charming” you, then…

“Do you… do you like him, ____?” Erika read your mind.

Your best friend had deciphered the situation better than you; of course, she was your best friend after all. But…

“I don't know.” you responded as you got up.

“Thank you…for everything…I have to do something now. I’ll see you later! Thank you again!” you said as you rushed out of the door.

“Where are you going-?” You heard Jimin’s faint voice just before you closed the door behind you.

You didn't answer, you just wanted to get to your destination which was anywhere where Jungkook was right now. All you wanted was to apologize even though you still felt ashamed for your previous thoughts.

Your feelings were unsure. But you were sure about one thing: you wanted him to know you were sorry and that things were ok between the both of you.

How do I really feel? The question persisted in your head as you stopped half away, pondering on it, but your feet picked up speed again down the path.

No, I had to see him, I didn’t have a plan of action but I felt after seeing him it will make sense.

Nearby you saw your aunt with the basket of apples heading to her house, which meant Jungkook had been with her. So you immediately went to her and asked if she knew where he had headed, but she also didn't know.

She caught up quickly to the situation, asking you. “What happened between the both of you?”

“N-nothing.” You brushed off as you turned away and left to keep searching for him, ears blocking out your aunt's voice.

You went to your house and searched other parts of the village but he was nowhere to be found. Anxiety had started to creep in and cloud your mind with the possibility that he had left or something had happened to him.

Taking a deep breath in, you continued down the path to the nearby onsen the villagers sometimes visit but at this time most people would be in their homes, it was actually mainly you roaming this path tonight like a suspicious person. But you needed to take a break and calm yourself.

You pushed the bushes away from your face as you peaked at the back entrance of the onsen, the sight took your breath away and stopped your heart momentarily. The sun was setting, painting the sky with warm colors, the smoke from the onsen rising into the air and into the last rays of the sun, gold tinting the onsen and the shirtless man drying his damped hair after he had taken his bath. It was Jungkook, although there was no one else in sight he was wearing his kitsune mask; his hair was in a half up do and his bottom hair was still wet. His torso was still bare; he only had placed a towel around his neck as he gazed at the moon. You could sense the sadness, even though you couldn’t see his expression. He whistled a sad melody, the sight appeared almost like a kitsune crying out to the moon for it to come out.

The shame had returned, killing your determination and making you unsure if to approach him or just leave. But the universe had other plans. Because as the thoughts ran through your mind, something else ran over your hands from holding the bushes, and of course, it was a spider.

You immediately shrieked at the spider, rapidly moving your hand to shake it off. After successfully shaking it off, you noticed the whistling came to a halt and your eyes locked on Jungkook who was now staring your way, so much for stealth.

You needed his mask more than him, to hide from the embarrassment.

Trying not to show embarrassment and reveal your racing heart as you neared him around the onsen.

“...I’ve been looking for you.” You mumbled, not fully being able to look at him fully just yet.

“Are you ok, though?” He stood up and went to you, examining the hand where the unwanted visitor had been.

You nodded and he relaxed.

“It was a spider, wasn't it?”

“Yeah…” you chuckled nervously.

He laughed but his expression dimmed as he remembered. So he backed up and went to sit in one of the benches and took his mask off putting it to the side.

“You ran away from me, I didn't think you’d be looking for me.” He said quietly.

“I know...” You replied quietly too.

“You can sit if you want.” He offered.

You thanked him and sat next to him. Your eyes couldn't stop themselves as they slightly glanced at his body, you had seen it many times before but why was it suddenly making you feel this way, as if you shouldn’t look but also can’t look away. You watched one drop of water slowly making its way down from his chest to his abs.

“It’s pretty, isn't?” he said as he looked at the moon that glanced at you both and the now hidden sun.

“Mhm…” Is all you replied as you secretly referred to his body.

“-about earlier..” He started, startling you out of your intrusive thoughts, making you blush even more.

“Ah..uh..um yes…” You stuttered.

There was a pause.

“I’m sorry.” You both spurted out at the same time. You looked at each other for a second until you both chuckled.

“You don't need to be sorry; I was the one who made you feel uncomfortable.” He smiled as he gazed at the water.

“You… you didn't make me feel uncomfortable. On the contrary… I…” You bit your lower lip as you blushed trying to finish the sentence.

“You liked it?” he finished for you; his eyes searching yours hopeful as yours shied away.

You nodded, staring at your fingers, not being able to look at him; taking advantage of the hair that fell on the side of your face so he couldn't see you blushing.

He bit his lower lip to keep his pleased smile from showing, gaze going to your legs, tempted to continue what he left unfinished earlier. But held himself back, not wanting to scare you again. So he looked away, taking a deep breath to compose himself as his grip on the edge of the bench tightened.

“I owe you an apology, Jungkook. I got scared because of ignorant beliefs.” You continued.

“Can I ask what those were?”

“I…I… thought you were hypnotizing me or…something.”

“Well that’s a compliment.” he smirked.

“Idiot.” you pushed him to the side playfully as he laughed. “I’m just happy I have other kitsunes in my life to explain stuff like this to me.”

“I’m also glad. Because if you didn't, I would've probably lost you after that.” he pushed the strand of hair that had been hiding you from him, behind your ear.

“No… I would've still come to you.” You chuckled. “You are too special to me to lose.”

Oh, how much he wanted to kiss you, but couldn't; not yet.

Your gaze then landed on his mask. “Why were you wearing your mask again? If I may ask?”

“I have a tendency to hide my face when I feel ashamed or angry.” He chuckles a little bit embarrassed. “I guess I use it to hide… my feelings and myself.” He said quietly.

You nodded in understanding; knowing the situation all too well; on your occasion, it was painting that helped you vent those emotions, turning them into something only you understood the entirety of.

“May I look at it?” You asked and he nodded, giving it to you.

You traced your fingers delicately on every feature of the mask; it was as beautiful as him.

“May I put it on?” You asked and he complied once again, never wanting to say no to you. But also because he was curious.

Placing the mask on your face you could smell his scent which made you very pleased.

You giggled. “I like it.” You looked at him, seeing he was smiling at you fondly and intrigued by you. Butterflies filled your stomach and thanked the mask for hiding your blush.

Not knowing how to deal with the emotions, you took off with the mask to tease him and avoid your feelings. “Now it’s mine!” You shouted as you giggled maliciously while running as fast as you can through the trees.

It took him a few seconds to react, not expecting at all what just happened. He wasn't surprised though, as he knew sometimes you could pass as a kitsune because of how naughty you were, especially with him and he liked that the most.

He followed behind you, not even caring to use his powers to outrun you as he was enjoying the chase and hearing you laugh.

But your running was brought to a halt as you encountered a nearby pond you had forgotten about and almost fell into it.

“Shit.” You cursed to yourself. You were about to take another route when a pair of arms grabbed you by the waist from behind abruptly, stopping you.

“Caught you! I won!” He exclaimed happily as he tried to take his mask back but you wouldn't let him.

All that could be heard was the sound of laughter as you both wrestled for the mask. At one point you lost balance and almost fell on your knees, but this time Jungkook softened the fall by holding you tightly, not wanting you to get hurt like last time.

You were about to stand up again but he went on top of you, trapping you.

The atmosphere had changed in a matter of seconds.

“I said… I won.” His voice turned suddenly low, his eyes turning lustful as they bore into you, loving the way you looked underneath him. “Now what do I get in return besides my mask, madam? Surely there must be more prizes for the winner… or does the winner get to choose? Because if so… the winner has a few things in mind already.” His eyes then went to your lips, casually licking his own.

You were flabbergasted by the situation and not in a bad way. Your eyes also went to his lips, but since you were shy, you took the mask and placed it on his face and gave him a kiss on what supposedly was his lips instead and chuckled afterwards oblivious to the tremendous effect it had on him.

“There… that was your—-“

Your mouth couldn't finish the sentence as his lips went for yours immediately after taking his mask off.

The kiss was heavenly for you. It was your first kiss so it was a little bit hard to keep with his needy experienced lips. But, even so, you found your way to reciprocate his kiss and feelings; it was something you wanted as much as he did.

You whimpered softly on his lips, making him stop and rest his forehead on yours with his eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed with his jaw clenched.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, relaxing himself. “You make me go insane, ______. You know that?”

Still on cloud 9 you just proceeded to caress his cheek and scalp. There was a brief moment of silence as he enjoyed your caresses.

“I have something for you, _____.” He broke the silence.

“And what would that be, sir Jungkook?” you playfully responded.

He laid beside you, facing you. Your eyes then went to his hand that was in a fist, blue light grabbing your attention as it went through the open spaces. Once the light vanished, his hand then opened, revealing a necklace with a little crystal jar as a pendant.

“What is that?” you asked.

“_____… I chose you as my mate.”

You sat up as soon as he said those words. You knew what that meant. It meant he couldn't be with anybody else after this, only you. Every tribe of kitsunes had their own ritual to choose a mate; you didn't know what his tribe’s ritual was but all you knew was that you were irritated by it. You never liked the idea of marrying an immortal to later leave alone to suffer for an eternity. It's not that you didn't agree with those types of relationships but it's just something you didn't want for yourself. You knew you were going to be constantly worrying about the future. Hence why you always admired Erika’s relationship by how fearless and in the moment they were.

“Jungkook, why would you do that?!”

“You already know the answer: because I fell for you, _____… and hard.” He sat up too, surprisingly calm to your reaction.

“Are you crazy?! I’m a mortal; I don't even last one century! You shouldn't have done that!” You were now standing.

Tears accumulated in your eyes, making your vision blurry. It was a reaction that even for you was unexpected; it made you realize how much you cared for him.

“What if I don't love you back, huh?! And what if I die tomorrow? What are you going to do then?!”

The tears were falling freely now. But they were interrupted by the pass of his caress.

“I already know the consequences, _____. And I don’t mind facing them.” He laid a kiss on your cheek, calming you.

“How… how are you not scared?” You hiccupped, wiping your tears away.

“Because my heart is where it belongs. And I knew from day one that you were my person; I could sense it as if… I had met you in another life; and I wasn't in the wrong.” He calmly assured you with a smile. “Now hold your hair up.”

You hesitated a bit but complied.

“This signifies my commitment to you; I want to marry you, _____.” Jungkook explained as he went behind you and placed the necklace on your neck.

“Jungkook, I don't think I'm there yet.” You shook your head and eyes began to water again; scared. But he continued clasping your necklace.

“The jar contains seven flowers. Each time you experience romantic love for me, one will bloom. Once the 7th has bloomed, that means you have fallen deeply in love with me and that’s when I'll marry you. In other words: I’ll wait for you.” He continued to clean your tears. “And even if they never bloom, and you want someone else… it will be ok. I’m not gonna lie to you, it will hurt.” He chuckled. “But knowing I'll still have you as a friend, would be enough for me.”

You couldn't understand how he was so sure after spending such a short period of time with you. You were scared for him; you didn't want him to live an unhappy life because of you and his decision.

But… At the same time, your heart couldn't resist feeling overjoyed at his words and the thought of spending the rest of your life with him.

Your hands then went to the pendant to examine it. It had flowers inside of it, seven different types of flowers about to bloom. You found it incredible how small they were; it was like a miniature garden inside of the jar.

“Can this be undone, the mate thing is only if i wear it, right?” You spoke more calmly now.

She is so cute. He thought to himself, chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, hugging tightly.

“You know... I have many things I love about you, but you worrying about us and our future, just drawns me even more." He smiled. " And no, it can't be undone because the necklace was made specifically for you; I've already committed to you to my creator: Inari.”

“Please ____, stop worrying. I've lived long enough to know that you are the only one for me. I’m going to be ok regardless; I just wanted you to know that my heart belongs to you.” He added.

You took a deep breath and exhaled, closing your eyes as your head rested on his chest; hearing his literal heart beat. You were overwhelmed and scared but you knew it was just anxiety talking. He was determined and you needed to remind yourself that he had lived centuries before you; that he had lived almost through every trial in life and that he was mature and wise enough to make this decision. You also reminded yourself that as long as you had each other, it was all going to be fine. And that living in the moment is what truly matters.

“Let’s go back before my aunt sends Jimin or Hoseok to find me; she knew something was off when I last talked to her.” You broke from his embrace. “…Or worse… Yoongi.”

“Who is Yoongi?” Jungkook asked, amused by your reaction to his name.

“He is a fallen angel and he is scary when he is mad.” You said as you walked the path back to the village, Jungkook followed behind.

“Why? He gets violent?” He asked, concerned.

“No! Not at all! He is just very strict. But let me tell you… he is very sweet under that hard shell he has and makes the best apple pie in the village… don’t tell my aunt I said that, please.” You said making him chuckle.

“Is it that good?” he asked, intertwining his hand with yours.

“Oh, yes! Wait till you try it! Yoongi has made it for me since I was little.” You squealed in excitement.

“Is that so?” he asked, intrigued but also in a trance with your beauty, like always.

And so the conversation continued to the village, without you realizing a flower had already bloomed: a Larch.

. . .

Everything was under a different light now. Every gesture, action and affectionate words were now felt differently. The feelings of love you neglected of him were now finally showing their colors, blossoming into something beautiful just like the flowers that rested on your neck.

Seven flowers… And one had already bloomed.

The second one, a Rumex, bloomed as his hand caressed your hair, both laying on your bed while he told you various stories from his childhood; one of them being how he had learned how to paint; and the others just showed you how naughty he was of a fox when a kid. All so you could fall asleep during the raging thunderstorm.

The third flower, a Spirea, bloomed when he told you how beautiful you were as you focused on your painting.

The fourth flower, a Buttercup, slowly bloomed as you both splashed each other with water in the nearby river and later on played hide and seek with the kids from your village; laughter and joy not seeming to cease.

The fifth flower, a Clematis, bloomed after reconciling on your first fight; making you understand that love isn't always perfect and that was ok. Because if the love is truthful, it is always bound to prevail over any circumstance or pride. That's what makes it so beautiful.

The sixth flower, a Sweershrub, bloomed when you saw him help an elder of the village to find and pick her favorite flowers for her balcony. Later on, bringing one for you too; one that he had found and had “thought of you” as he admired it.

The seventh flower… the last one… had bloomed as your hands cupped his cheeks and eyes went to his lips right after you had hugged him because he had finally shown you the painting he had been making; a painting where he had drawn you so beautifully as you concentrated on your own painting; it was so detailed and colorful, full of love… you just wanted to kiss him at that moment. But timidity overshadowed the courage to do so once again. And he himself had to restrict himself from kissing you as he knew very well that that kiss was just going to be fuel to the fire, and his body wasn't going to be able to be stopped from taking what it had been wanting. So he gently removed your hands and gave them soft kisses; apologizing before leaving you alone, wanting more from him; for him to love you.

“A tiger lily…” You stared at your reflection on the mirror of the vanity table, holding the pendant.

You sat there, amazed how all of them had bloomed so quickly. You also debated on when to tell him; for you it was a little bit embarrassing that your feelings were out there like that physically. For that reason you didn't always have it on your neck; sometimes it was in your pockets or as a bracelet. Although… he never paid much attention to it; he was more focused on just being with you. You did sometimes catch him looking but he would immediately look away. As if he reminded himself to not put pressure on you and just be happy that you were together even as friends.

There was a knock at the door, startling you since it was in the middle of the night. But then you remembered that Jungkook usually likes to sleep over. So you wrapped a blanket around you, not wanting your exposed skin to be seen, and went to the door to open it; revealing what you were already expecting: a smiling Jungkook with a pillow under his arm.

“I should start charging you for the overnight stays.” You joked as you walked towards the kitchen leaving him to close the door.

“But you won't because you like me being here.” He teased back as he entered, following you.

“Well maybe I don't; you always leave a mess on the couch.”

“But you enjoy my breakfasts so you won't kick me out. And I don't always leave a mess, madam.” He smiled.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Not after the over-salted eggs you gave me last time.”

“Hey! It was an accident.” He immediately started tickling your belly as punishment, making you laugh hysterically. You tried to escape his grasp but he held you from behind to not let you escape.

“Jungkook stop! I’m going to pee myself.” You laughed as your eyes watered; he grew weak as he began laughing at your comment and you took the opportunity to escape, and in that attempt to push him off, your blanket fell off, leaving you only on your satin nightgown that exposed your breasts through the fabric while a strap fell off your shoulder, making it worse for you.

As soon as your skin came in contact with the cold breeze, you realized what had just happened and gasped, backing away a bit, lifting the nightgown strap back up. You quickly looked at him, embarrassed. And you saw how his eyes had just finished scanning your body, going from your perked up breasts to your face. You couldn't take any longer the insecurities so you went to grab the blanket to cover yourself up again. But as you pulled the piece of fabric, something interfered: Jungkook's foot, stepping on it.

You stepped back, letting the blanket fall, looking at him with an arm around your breasts as you tried to decipher what he was thinking.

If a needle were to fall, it would be heard; silence and tension was all there was. But not a bad kind of tension…

He walked to you, taking extra steps as you instinctively stepped back, colliding with the kitchen counter. Even though you wanted him, it was your first time and it was instinct to hide yourself.

He removed your arm that covered your breasts, exposing them to him again. You hesitated a bit.

“Let me see you.” He stated.

Your eyes were glued to his lustful gaze on your breasts; his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he tried to restrain himself.

Softly he grazed your neck moving to your collarbone… finally landing on your breast, grasping it firmly; and without warning, his mouth went to your bud and began savoring it, despising the fabric that was in between. Your gasp was followed by a moan and slight twitch of your body as pleasure was felt.

Hearing you moan made his movements more passionate and rough, switching between breasts. He wanted to see and hear more. His sucks were loud and licks were lewd; flicking your exposed nipples and nibbling on them occasionally; all while he massaged your breasts aggressively.

As your lips parted from pleasure, he took the opportunity to collide his mouth with yours as your lips looked too pretty like that to pass the invitation. His hand then traveled from your breast to your neck where the necklace resided. And as soon as his hand brushed the chain, that's when he remembered.

His jaw clenched as he forced himself to remove his lips from yours, It took him every ounce of self restraint to complete that task. But went through it successfully, making you whimper softly from frustration at the loss of his sweet sinful mouth.

He rested his forehead on yours with eyes closed and untamed breaths as he tried to control the animal inside of him that only wanted to claim you before anybody else could.

“It was a mistake for me to come here. And I should stop coming over; it's dangerous for me and for you; I apologize.” He states due to the fact that it was getting harder for him to hold himself back, before stepping away and going towards the door at a fast pace.

“The flowers bloomed, Jungkook.” You made him stop on his tracks.

You wanted this too.

“What?” He asked, not because he didn't understand you, but because he couldn't believe it for a moment.

“All the flowers bloomed… yesterday, the last one blossomed; I noticed it today.” You smiled, excited but nervous at the same time.

He went back to you and picked the pendant, seeing every flower grown and colorful.

He smiled and lightly chuckled, placing his forehead on yours and hands on the counter behind you trapping you, relieved he no longer had to hold himself together when he was around you.

His fingers now held your chin, making you look at him. “You don't know how fucking hard was it to hold back and not fuck you like you are meant to be fucked, _____.” He said so casually; eyes physically changing and a pair of fangs now visible.

You weren't surprised by his choice of words since you knew how they behaved when they were in heat or just needy; sadly you know about this because you had to hear your friend, Erika, talk to you about her and Jimin’s sex life occasionally; more specifically when she had an “amazing night”; you always had to shut her up mid speech before you puked. But at least it helped you get to know a little better how kitsunes worked, or any other hybrid that was part animal.

His eyes… You thought to yourself as their pupil was now slit. Just like a fox.

“Beautiful…” You thought out loud, boring into his eyes; finally being able to see part of his fox side.

And that was enough to send him off edge.

“This nightgown doesn't hold any sentimental value to you, correct?” He asked.

“No, why—“

You gasped as one of his now exposed claws had cut through the middle of the night gown, ripping off the rest with his hands and pushing off the straps from your shoulders and throwing the gown to a side. You were now fully exposed to him. To you, it felt so weird to be naked in front of a man and you also felt self conscious. But the man that was in front of you was one that you deeply loved and trusted your body with; you wanted to give him all of you and you were ready to face and overcome your insecurities with him.

Your arms went to your breasts, but he was quick to remove your arms and place them on your sides, whispering to your ear, “Stop doing that or I'll tie your arms.”

He began tracing his fingers slowly starting from your hip’s stretch marks to the curve of your waist, passing your aroused nipple (making you shiver); ending on your neck followed by grasping it.

“Beautiful.” He repeated your words. “Just like imagined.”

You blushed once more; asking yourself if he had touched himself to the thought of you; the thought alone made you even wetter and wanting to hear more of what he wanted to do to you. Oh, how dirty you felt.

So the words came out of your mouth intrusively, “What else do you imagine?”

He was also taken back by your sudden loss of shyness. But reality was that, you were still scared. Nevertheless, you wanted him even so.

“Do you really want to know, darling?” The grip on your neck tightened, playing with his prey.

“Ye-es.” You almost moaned, loving his hand over your neck.

His mouth attacked yours desperately, connecting your tongues. The hand that held your throat, now positioning your head for easier access; his other hand pushed your crotch towards his so he could grind himself on you and get some relief from his aching cock.

“Go to the couch.” He broke the kiss, his loud pants overshadowing yours.

He had so much control over you; you complied so quickly. Yet, what you didn't know was the amount of control you had over him. Not only because of the smell of your arousal or your naked body, but because of the way you looked at him as if you were high on him; it was driving him nuts. He wanted to be gentle with you… oh how he wanted to. But you just made it so difficult for him… always.

Your living room had two sofas on either side of your wooden coffee table; facing each other.

He followed behind, eye-fucking your ass. He also grabbed the nearest canvas and some paints and pencils, making you curious of what he was going to do.

You stood awkwardly in front of one, waiting for him to give you instructions.

“You do not get to be shy now after you asked me what I think of when I touch myself.” He softly chuckled.

“D-don’t be an ass.” You retorted; somehow enjoying that you could still tease each other even during sex.

He chuckled again. But his expression went back to the previous one: fox eyes full of raging lust. It was like two different people.

An easel was already in front of one of the sofas since you had decided this morning to paint an idea that had come to mind… so it made it easier for him.

He placed the canvas on the easel followed by the words, “Sit.” And you complied.

He was on the other couch facing you as he grabbed a pencil.

Is he… is he going to draw me naked? You thought to yourself, only to be answered afterwards as if he had heard you.

“You asked me what I thought when I touched myself… then I’m going to show you; don't know how much self control I'll have, though.” He said sincerely as he took out his cock out of his lower attire.

You loved the way it looked with cum already dripping from the tip.

“I’m going to paint you bare before me while I touch myself.” He said, already beginning to stroke his cock, breaths of air longer and broken. “And I don't want you touching yourself, do you understand?”

You nodded, rubbing your thighs together, needing some kind of friction.

“But you are going to spread your legs.”

This is going to be hard for me to not touch myself. You thought.

And slowly, and a bit embarrassed, you exposed to him your dripping cunt.

He swallowed hard, thinking to himself that this was going to be harder than he thought. But he still wanted to show you how fucked up you made him all the time. Plus he was enjoying the anticipation before he fucked you like he wanted to.

His other hand gripped hard on the pencil as he began to draw you. He began doing the basics of the painting… your face… the form of your body… and then began adding some details. But the truth is, the drawing was sloppy since he was enjoying more tracing your body with his own eyes; admiring it; memorizing it and plotting ways he was going to fuck you. All while he was stroking himself, squeezing his balls occasionally.

He looked so beautiful: eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened as he cursed and breathed heavily while giving himself pleasure. You wanted to touch yourself so badly…

“Spread the lips of your cunt for me.” He panted. “I wanna see your hole begging for my cock.”

For you that was even more torture since you just wanted to rub your clit or have him touch you or be inside you. But you did it anyway, making him hiss and grunt as his hips thrusted forward instinctively as he saw how it was pulsating from need.

“Fuck.” He clenched his jaw.

The painting was long gone, abandoned. And all that could be heard was the sound of his moans/grunts and hand stroking himself.

This was too much for you, seeing him like that… and your slit aching for him… your fingers just slipped inside you without you noticing as you looked at him touching himself to you.

“Jungkook...” You whimpered as you closed your eyes for a second, focusing on the feeling; your other hand now touching your breast.

The crash of the easel, canvas and pencil with the floor made you open your eyes again. Jungkook had pushed it to the floor and was now moving towards you.

He pushed your back to the couch and held your legs while he aligned himself on your entrance, spitting on his cock to use as additional lube.

“Jungk—-“ you were going to protest because he was going too fast but it was already too late. His cock was already inside of you, pounding you hard.

“Shit!” You yelped as your eyes watered from the sting.

“I wont be gentle, _____.” He grunted as he pounded into you. “But I’m going to make you feel good, I promise.”

It felt so different from your fingers for obvious reasons. There was a mixture of pain and pleasure and you didn't know how to react; you were confused. But one thing was for sure: you felt full and in ecstasy with him finally inside you. And you just wanted more even on uncomfortableness.

Had you just discovered you were a masochist? Probably.

One of your hands went to his and grabbed it, guiding it over your neck. You wanted him to hold you there; you liked the feeling.

“You keep playing with fire, _____. Do you want me to break you?!”

You nodded, too overwhelmed by lust and pleasure to speak.

He cursed.

Your arm was grabbed and in a matter of seconds you were flipped over. You were on your knees, forehead pressed to a cushion by his hand on your nape. This position allowed him to go faster.

Since you were looking down, he grabbed you by your hair and positioned your head sideways.

“Don't want to miss those pretty reactions you make while you take my cock.” You moaned at his words as he thrusted harshly into you, making you yelp.

“Touching yourself and then asking me to hold you by your neck? What a dirty virgin you are. You really don't want me to go easy on you, huh?” He added.

Every word he said, your body reacted to it. And he knew by the way you were squeezing in on him, which you could tell he loved by the way he cursed under his breath.

“Such a slut… my slut.” He commented; his hand never leaving your nape as he fucked you.

He then lowered himself on you, pushing you down to the sofa, your bodies now touching as he pounded you deep. His thrusts were now more paused but each thrust was harsh and loud.

“Feels so good.” You whimpered.

“I know, beautiful.” He whispered into your ear and licked a stripe of the shell and bit it softly.

You were drooling at this point; so focused on him, his sounds and touches. You also knew for sure that your ass was going to be bruised and red as fuck after this by how hard he had be fucking you. Not only were you probably weren't going to be able to stand up tomorrow, but also sit. You were fucked. But it was worth it to you.

“I’m close.” He grunted as he picked up the pace again, lifting your ass up again; both of his hands digging into your hips; more bruises you knew you were gonna have tomorrow.

You turned your head sideways to watch when he came. But you were also enjoying how his eyes never left your cunt as it took him so nicely.

“You were made for me, _____. Your pretty little tight cunt was made to take my cock.” He panted, high on you.

Suddenly, one of his harsh thrusts came with a sharp pain on your shoulder, extending to your neck; feeling drops of a warm liquid dripping from it; it was your blood. He had bitten you as he came inside you. You were now full of his cum, scent and with a mark claiming you as his.

It was so fast that it didn't give you time to react. But the pain was still there, he could see it on your face. So he licked the area to soothe you and clean it, giving your neck and shoulder kisses afterwards. He still didn't pull out.

“Mine finally.” He said burying his nose on your neck, smelling the mixture of your scent with his; he couldn't get enough of it. He couldn't get enough of the idea that you were all marked up by him; it was satisfying.

“You ok, love?” He asked, checking your wound to see if it stopped bleeding.

“Y-yes.” You replied, still surprised by the bite. You had forgotten when Erika had told you about the bite they give you when it's your first time together; it injects the pheromones into you; marking you as his not only by smell but physically.

“You haven't orgasmed yet, right?” He asked, still inside of you, laid on your back as his breathing returned to normal.

“No… sorry; I thought that was going to be enough.” You apologize, somehow feeling guilty that you didn't come during the intercourse. But again, you were new to this. You only knew some things because of Erika.

I should’ve listened more to her even if I puked afterwards. You thought.

“Love, why are you apologizing? That is perfectly normal; please don't force anything; just enjoy my touch.” He said, finally pulling out, pleased to see that you were filled to the brim with his cum.

You relaxed at his words but whimpered as he pulled out, missing feeling full.

“Turn around for me.”

You were facing him now as he hovered over you. He kissed you… lips now more gentle but full of passion; occasionally licking your lower lip.

His hand then slipped to your cum dripping cunt, playing with your folds before going down on you.

“W-wait! What are you doing?” You quickly questioned as his head was now between your legs; still insecure of your body.

But he ignored you.

“What a pretty sight.” He almost moaned seeing your hole still filled with his cum.

“I'll paint this next, what do you think?” He smirked at you and you blushed looking away.

His thumb circled your clit a bit before spitting on it, making it easier for him to pleasure you. But he did not miss the almost silent moan you released seeing him do that.

He smirked, once more. “You really like that, don’t you? When I spit on you.”

“Can— Can you stop teasing me?!” You said annoyed/flustered and he giggled.

He chuckled. “I knew it… that look you gave me when I spat on my cock was enough to let me know.“

He gave your clit more rubs while he hovered over you again.

“Open.” He gestured to your lips with his eyes.

Confusion was evident on your face, not understanding but you still complied.

“My slut is so well mannered; now stick your tongue out for me.”

A ball of spit fell from his mouth into your tongue.

“Swallow.”

It was embarrassing for you how quickly you complied and wanted more.

What is wrong with me?

You were discovering things about yourself that you never imagined existed.

“You want another one, doll?” He asked, begging for you to say yes as he was also enjoying every second of it. He never knew he was going to like this as much as he does right now; but maybe it was just because this was another way for him to mark you.

You nodded, opening your mouth again. And he smirked.

Another ball of spit fell into your mouth. And this time he continued with a kiss, connecting your tongues.

Every touch, kiss, action… was guiding you towards your high and you were starting to feel it. And he could see it by the way you were grinding your hips on his hand.

He lowered his face to your cunt, taking a whiff of it. “So good.” He moaned before sucking your clit.

You were a moaning whimpering mess by the way his tongue was going so fast on your bud; taking a few whiffs in between as he loved the way you smelled. At this point all his lower face was covered in your fluids. And he didn't mind one bit.

His other hand was now stroking his cock.

He is hard again.

You wanted to touch him so badly too but you were about to come.

Maybe next time. You thought.

But you did have one request. “Jungkook, I’m close. I want you to— to touch my clit with your cock.”

He didn't think twice to do so, wanting to make you go crazy for him, to lose all sense of reason for him, to just think of him only him. He wanted to break you.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” He cursed loving how lewd you were when about to climax.

Occasionally he would slap his cock on your clit as he rubbed himself on your clit, making your body jolt from overstimulation.

“fu— uck, Jungkook!” You grabbed onto his arm while you rode your high on his dick.

You had come before by your own hands but this… this was way different.

Jungkook, seeing your climax, also came on you, strings of semen landing on your belly and tits.

As you came down from cloud nine, he left wet kisses on your neck and then switched to your lips, connecting them.

He broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours with his eyes closed as he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Finally… mine.” He exhaled in relief as if he had held his breath all these months that he was with you. Because even though he told you that it would be ok if you didn't feel the same way, reality was that he knew very well it wasn't going to be ok for him; he knew that being with you and not being able to touch you… kiss you… hold you… make love to you… or just watching you with another man… was going to be torturous and unbearable pain. But he was willing to go through it just so he could see you everyday and make sure you were ok.

“I love you.” You said to him, wanting to reassure him you weren't going anywhere and that your feelings were true.

He chuckled as he sighed. “That just makes me want to go for round two. But I know you are tired and sore already so I will save that round two for later.”

You lazily chuckled; body so relaxed…

He noticed your heavy eyelids so he picked you up bridal style and took you to your bed. The sudden gesture shocked you a little bit but later relaxed in his arms.

After he gently laid you on the bed, he left the room and came back with a damped towel and proceeded to clean you up. As he did, your enamored eyes went from his face to his beautiful body, focusing on his caring actions. But the scars of the injury you cured grabbed your full attention after. Till this day you hadn't asked him what exactly he was running from and who had hurt him; it had been four months already. There were some times where you wanted to speak about the subject, but decided not to; scared of making him remember something he didn't want to. But right now, you felt so in tune with him; like your souls had reached their peak in connecting… that it gave you tranquility; you just knew he was willing to share his vulnerability with you.

“Jungkook… what were you running from that day?” You finally asked, his eyes quickly going up to you.

He was definitely not expecting that question now but he was already preparing for it; he knew you both would eventually talk about the subject. But he didn't mind; even if it meant going back to such a miserable past. You were his and he was yours, and he wanted to share everything with you.

“My family.” He said as he kept cleaning you.

You were shocked; that was an answer you were definitely not expecting. You were expecting maybe thieves… someone who just didn't like him… or just bad people in general. But his own blood? No.

“Why, if I may ask?” You said, now sitting on the bed.

“You can ask all you want, beautiful.” He smiled, rubbing your thigh as a sign of reassurance.

“They just… didn't like the idea of me going against their— no, her word.” He chuckled softly, but there was pain evident in his eyes.

“Her?” You asked curious of who he was referring to.

“My mother, it was always her and everyone followed… my whole childhood consisted of her controlling every little thing of my life; even the way I dressed. But as i got older, I began to rebel; starting with my hobbies… that's when I learned how to paint.”

It's incredible for you how well he hid the pain and reality of his childhood when he talked to you about it. He always told you the nice memories but never the bad ones. And you could tell there were a lot of bad ones.

“I changed the way I dressed; I got piercings and tattoos… I always got shit for it but I didn't care; I could take it… that's what I always said.” He continued.

And damn does he look good… You were happy he got the courage to be himself.

“But my tolerance was cut short when she forced me to marry a woman from a well known vampire clan. Apparently she got interested in me at one of the many balls I attended. And since she belongs to a very rich and powerful clan… it was all about gain.”

He threw the towel away and went to rest beside you, laying his head on your thigh. He took your hand and placed it on his head. And you already knew what it meant: he wanted pets.

“So I ran before the wedding could take place. But she found out and went looking for me; she sent my two brothers to search for me. The commitment they had to find me was astonishing because I was already far far away when they found me. And that's… that's when my own two brothers that I grew up with, almost… killed me.”

His last two words sounded doubtful, as he still couldn't believe that had happened.

“They tried to talk it out at first but when I kept refusing… all they said was that they didn't have another choice. I was always the strongest one out of the three so that’s the reason why she sent them both. But… even so, I managed to escape and lose them.”

You wiped the tears that had not gone unnoticed by you.

“Damn, I'm crying?” He chuckled and you nodded.

“It’s ok.” You reassured and kissed his hand that cleaned his eyes.

That action secretly drives him crazy.

“I ran all I could; I remember passing a lot of trees. And then… I saw you. Even though I was in pain, once my eyes laid on you I felt that you were someone who was going to be really important to me; I could feel it; as if we had known each other in a past life. But at the same time I was doubtful; probably because my intuition was being clouded with my fight or flight instinct; but once I saw you turn back because of a spider.. I knew I was ok and that you weren't going to hurt me.”

“I don't know if to feel flattered or insulted.” You said making him snort out a laugh.

“So that spider technically made you trust me?”

“Yeah… I thank that spider every day. Because otherwise, I would’ve probably just bled out.”

That was scary just thinking about; knowing that there could’ve been a possibility where you didn't meet each other. You look back and you for the first time in your life… feel thankful for a spider showing up.

“In that case, I'm grateful for the spider too.” You both laughed.

Your fingers kept running his hair while his eyes closed, enjoying your touch like always. There was silence but it was a comfortable one. As you sat there giving him affection, your eyes scanned all his features. Still admiring his beauty as if it was the first time you saw him.

“You are so beautiful.” Those words just needed to come out from your mouth.

His eyes opened with a shocked flustered expression; he was blushing and moved one of his hands to cover half of his face as if it was helping cover the obvious blushing cheeks and ears. He always did that when he got shy.

You chuckled at his cuteness. “Too bad I'm gonna get old and won't match your youthfulness.” You chuckled again but this time a bit more sad.

His expression changed to a more serious one. “Why are you thinking like that?”

“Because… my body will change and… I won't be able to keep up with… you know… your needs.”

The harsh truth; one that had been bothering you for a while now but tried your best to ignore it; you wanted to live in the moment after all. But the problem was that you wanted to make him happy always; to please him and be there for him when he needed you just like he does for you now. You didn't want to lose that ability. Because you knew for a fact he was going to love you unconditionally but it was still going to be hard for you.

He sat now, placing a hand on your cheek. “_____, look at me. Your hair will turn gray and your skin will prune. But your smile won't change, the way you make me laugh won't change, the way you love won't change, your fear of spiders probably won't change either.”

“Hey!” You protested.

“And your way of knowing me so well… the way you have me at the palm of your hands… the way you turn me on… won't change either. All those things are what made me fall deeply in love with you.”

“Even if my ass and tits drop?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh my god, ____. Yes, I will love you even if your ass and tits drop.” he rolled his eyes and began to laugh and you joined.

You were in love; mad, mad in love.

“In other words… Till my end comes, you will always have my heart. Even after our inevitable parting happens, I'll never let go of you.”

Tears unavoidably fell from your eyes as you smiled; feeling so lucky and so loved. Was this the world reciprocating all the love you gave to it al this time?

“Besides, we can just make potions for stamina and endurance. If you know what I mean.” He winked and smirked.

You slapped his arm and began laughing. “You had to ruin the moment you fucking degenerate.”

“Only if it's you.” He stuck his tongue out, stopping it between his teeth with deviousness in his eyes; a playful flirty expression he tended to make.

He really never failed to make you flustered, shy or blushed even if it was sometimes corny. It was something that you knew that even if decades passed, you would still experience.

“I hope I get to see you in my next life too, Jungkook.”

“Oh believe me, I will always find my way back to you.”

And as always, that sincerity in his eyes was undoubtedly one of your biggest weaknesses. Your lips couldn't help but to reach for his.

Now the next thing was to plan the wedding. You didn't have any ideas yet. But one thing was for sure. And that was that Yoongi was going to make the pastries. It was a perfect excuse to make him do pie.

Sorry Yoongi.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #hybrid jungkook x reader #smut #kitsune #bts #fantasy #human x kitsune #fluff #romantic #past lives #fanfic #one shot

33 notes · View notes

cantfightmoonlight · 2 days ago

Text

"I was more referring to how she takes pleasure in gossip. But, she certainly stole the show, didn't she?" The corner of her lips tilted up into a soft and amused smile at the thought. "Fair enough," was all she said in regards to Todd though, in her own personal opinion, she felt that Rohan and Todd both had a tendency to carry a grudge. Not that she couldn't relate. She just would have acted differently if she had been in shoes is all.

"You want to be frank? Let's be frank. Aaliyah did make decisions in my absence and I take responsibility for ever single one, whether I would have done the same or not, just as I take responsibility for how I voted in that room. But, there is a difference between taking responsibility for my own choices and letting it pass, which as I've pointed out to you over and over again at this point, I didn't let the decision to ban you simply pass. As much as you'd like to believe I did, that decision would have still been in affect if it wasn't for me. You considered joining the pack with Jonah. Do you honestly believe you would have been able to if I hadn't pushed to have the ban re-evaluated?" She asked with a curve of her brow, only to let out a scoff as he continued on. "Listen here, Rohan Persaud-Rivas, you can stand there and resent me for the way I voted all you'd like, but don't you dare belittle what happens behind that room. A solitary advisor? The entire Council voted for you to be banned before I agreed. I was out number. Your fate was already decided, declaring war between species had already been threatened and I have no jurisdiction in that room over any witch. So, as I told you before and I'll say it again- while I am sorry I hurt you, I am not sorry for choosing not to pick a fight with the Supreme and put a target on the clan's back for a fate I knew I wouldn't be able to change in that instant regardless. I decided to find another way. I managed to have your fate overturned and prevented a potential target on the clan's back. And I'd do it again as much as that might not be what you want to hear."

"I'm not excusing myself. I'm simply pointing out that, when I step into the Council Room, I am no different than anyone else there. I'm not a Mayor in that room. I am the Clan Leader and, as I've already said, I continue to lead, because I gave this town and the Clan my word and if didn't, the people I care about would be worse of. When my turn as Mayor is up though, I hope you all are happy when Damien Blake or JC or who ever else decides to take on this thankless job in my stead."

"Yes. I made a choice, but so did you. You broke the accords. You put us all in the position to have to decide your fate and I made a decision you didn't like. Me questioning whether or not I can trust you has nothing to do with you having been or being upset about the choice I made and everything to do with how you chose to ignore me and avoid me rather than having the balls to have a god damn conversation about it. If you had done something that pissed me off, I would have come and talked to you, immediately, because I care about you and you're important to me. I would have wanted to hear your side. So, yes. I don't know if I can trust you, because the second I did something you didn't like, you cut all contact. If you were or are mad about my stance on the matter now, I understand. But, you didn't give me a chance to explain. You didn't even tell me that you were upset until months later. So, how do I know that it won't happen again? How do I know that you won't start avoiding me out of the blue and leave me to have to wonder if I did something to offend you or if I'm being paranoid and you're simply busy?"

"I nearly died, Rohan, and I'm tired. I don't have the energy to try to decipher anyone's feelings nor do I expect anyone to decipher mine. So, I'm telling you how I feel which is that I don't know if I should trust you. Not that I don't trust you. But, that I feel like I might regret it down the line, if I continue to. You think my feelings are ridiculous? Fine. So be it. But, it's how I feel. Either we can talk through it and go on being friends or we can call it here. But, I'm not getting in your car if you chose the latter. It's really that simple."

"Well, Dilan has other ways of getting her point across. Someone getting shoved off a stage is about as Christmas-y in Lunar Cove as snow or gingerbread," Rohan replied with a soft sigh. He shook his head back and forth. "I know he didn't possess me on-purpose, but...his behavior while doing so was less than becoming. Besides, he's tied very strongly to one of the worst nights of my life. Again, not his fault, but it's best we don't try to co-mingle. It's not a one-sided sentiment either, for what it's worth. I understand he's very frustrated that he gets injured when I do." Rohan gave a weak shrug. "I wish him well. I just don't think we need to hang."

Rohan raised an eyebrow. "I mean...yeah? Nico didn't agree with JC's decision. And sure, I'll give you that him leaving put JC in the position to make one. That happened. But I'll also be frank, Meena. Would you have stood behind whatever hypothetical decision Aaliyah may have made in your absence? It would be understandable. United front. But if Aaliyah had voted to ban me, would you have let it pass?" He shook his head. "I also don't begrudge Nico for prioritizing Jasmine. I would prioritize Jonah. But, like...look, if a solitary advisor is enough to make a ripple through the policy of every faction of the town, then I don't know what to say about that."

Rohan knit his brow. "You're the mayor. You're the leader of the vampires. You have your say. Excuse yourself it that's what you want to do. And if you don't want to be either of those things anymore, then stop being them. In any case, Poppy and I aren't friends anymore. So, believe me, no one got a pass. You know what? Maybe Ben did, but he's practically my in-law. And we didn't really know each other at the time."

A hand came up to rub at his temple, but actual irritation now crept into Rohan's voice. "No. No. We're not doing that. You don't get to 'look what you made me do' me. You made a choice, Meena. You can't trust me? Why? Because I was upset by something you did to me? That's ridiculous. Completely. So you know what? Why don't we just call it here in that case? I'm sorry. I can't...like, be half-friends, aware you don't trust me. I just don't think it's going to work. For both our sakes. I'll still give you the ride if you want it, but that's probably not a good idea, is it?"

#rohan ft. meena #c: meena

80 notes · View notes

d1xonss · 3 days ago

Text

Desert Rose

Chapter 69 ~ We've all got Jobs to do

Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

Era : Season 5

Word Count : 6.4k

In this chapter ~ As Rose continues to contemplate the job she was unexpectedly offered, Deanna talks of a party she's throwing to welcome all of the newcomers such as themselves. But that's not all the group has to be weary of as Rose has a run-in with a certain doctor that puts her on edge. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

I was beyond irritated. Irritated because I was woken up at the ass crack of dawn to hear someone knocking frantically on the door, and that someone just so happened to be Deanna. The sight of her of all people irritated me too. She made a huge fuss about what happened yesterday with Nicholas, saying I ran away too fast before even having a chance to go to their infirmary to be looked at. But I knew it was pointless. The man had his hands around me for about two seconds before I shut it down immediately, wanting to just forget it ever happened. Though eventually, I agreed. Because she wouldn't seem to shut up about it until I did.

But the worst part was I was missing out on the first secret meeting with the others as they headed off toward the woods. Rick, Daryl, and Carol were planning to escape for a while to discuss what the next move would be to take back our guns. While I on the other hand had to go get a fucking check-up like a five year old. However, I knew that if I skipped out on seeing the doctor, Deanna would eventually find out, and I definitely didn't want to deal with that.

So, here I was, standing tiredly outside of the clinic, telling myself to knock while also simultaneously wanting to turn on my heel and leave. But the quicker I got in, the quicker I would get back out. With that I finally tapped my knuckles on the door and awaited the answer of the doctor that apparently was "too good to be true," according to the woman in charge.

The door swung open a few seconds later and I was met with a man that instantly gave me the chills. He looked perfectly normal upon first glance, but there was something about him that rubbed me the wrong way. I just didn't know what.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

But there it was. His speech was too slurred, and his breath smelled too much like liquor for it being nine in the morning. Seriously? The town drunk was the doctor that was too good to be true? The quicker I get in, the quicker I get out, Irepeated to myself before putting on the best fake smile I could muster.

"Yeah, I hope so. Deanna sent me over here to get looked at after what happened yesterday."

He gave me a blank look, like he had no clue what I was talking about. "The uh...the fight? Some guy got his hands around my throat and...well I guess it's better to be safe than sorry." I explained.

He let out a long sigh of frustration before reluctantly opening the door a bit wider, "Fine." he muttered, turning around to head back inside with a stomping of his feet, expecting me to follow.

My feet remained planted on the ground for a beat as I took a second to collect whatever patience I had left, before finally trailing after him. I followed his frame with my eyes as he led me into the back area, telling me to take a seat while he gathered some things together. I did a brief scan of the room, the varies of medical supplies before ultimately doing what he asked, sitting myself on some type of metal table. His back was facing me as he got everything he needed, surprising me a little that he was the one to break the dreaded silence.

"You're a part of that new group?" he asked, "Rose?"

My brows furrowed slightly, confused at how the hell he knew who I was, "Yeah..." I answered hesitantly, "How did you know my name?"

He turned around to face me now, "My wife said she met you the other day. Jessie."

Oh shit. "Oh, right yeah...briefly."

He hummed a response and came over with gloved hands, "Let me know if this hurts." he mumbled as he put some pressure on different parts of my throat.

I sat there patiently while his fingers moved with precision, but nothing pained me in the slightest. I knew coming here was a giant waste of time. My gaze traveled around the room again in utter boredom as I waited, scanning right past his head and quickly noticing a bottle of whiskey hidden behind a tissue box on the counter. Called it. But I didn't utter a word.

About a minute went by before he took his gloves off and threw them away in a nearby trashcan, taking out a small flashlight from his back pocket next. He aimed the light at different spots and angles of my neck to check for markings, before clicking it off a few seconds after.

"You might have some small bruising in the next few hours, but other than that you should be fine." he said under his breath as he turned away from me once more.

I nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I figured it wouldn't be anything too serious."

His head then suddenly whipped around to face me again rather quickly, "Then why the hell did you come in?" he questioned with a slightly raised voice.

My eyebrows flew up in shock at his sudden outburst for absolutely nothing, and the look on his face afterwards told me he knew he had fucked up. Not because he suddenly yelled at me, but because he didn't want anyone else to know about his bipolar behavior. He attempted to brush it off with a chuckle and raised his hands up to me as if he was surrendering.

"Sorry, sorry...I uh...didn't get much sleep last night. Someone kept me up." he said.

I hummed as if I understood, "Was his name Jack Daniels?"

The man's smile faded instantly, and a dangerous look appeared just behind his eyes. But I wasn't fearful. I knew he didn't have the balls to do a damn thing considering any marks or bruises he could potentially leave would be much harder to cover up rather than a few words he spit. Plus, he knew that I could fight. After all, that's the reason I came in here in the first place.

Now it was just the waiting game, to see who was going to make the next move. Personally, I was just waiting for him to say something, perhaps deny my assumption, but I could tell he was too angry to come up with a reasonable response.

"Does your wife know you start your day off with him bright and early?" I suddenly spoke again.

I was playing a dangerous game, but I wanted him to know a few things that were disguised behind my words. One, I wasn't going to let anyone talk to me like that. Two, I noticed his little secret that he seemed to keep hidden away. And three, I wasn't scared of him no matter how big and terrifying he may think he is.

His hands gripped the side of the counter until his knuckles turned white, and I took this as my cue to leave. "Well, thanks for the checkup doc. For your sake, I hope this is the last time I see you." I said sweetly before shoulder checking him on my way out, making it to the front door to leave.

I can honestly say I was left surprised when he didn't make a peep after the way my mouth ran on and on. But then again, he had to keep his sociopathic behaviors to himself, and couldn't show his true colors other than behind closed doors was my best guess. My mind didn't linger on the interaction for longer than it had to, tucking it in the back of my mind for later in case the man could potentially be a problem. But I prayed to God he wouldn't be.

Time passed as I finally made my way back to the safety of the house, expecting to see a few stragglers inside, but instead the place was empty when I walked through the door. The silence was almost unnerving in a way. But I tried to not let it bother me as I opted out to head upstairs, needing to find something to pass the time.

As I passed the bedrooms to my right, I stopped and backtracked a few feet when I noticed someone was in fact home. Michonne stood in front of the full-length mirror, looking at herself in the uniform she was given that looked exactly like Rick's, turning different ways to see every angle. I leaned against the doorway for a moment, watching as she adjusted the jacket a few times in unsureness.

"Damn, look at you girl." I suddenly spoke.

She jumped a little at my presence, but smiled when she saw it was just me, "Yeah?" she asked genuinely, "It's not too much?"

"No, it is," I said honestly, "You just pull it off pretty well."

Her smile grew larger, "Thank you." she muttered somewhat bashfully, before pausing and looking towards me a bit longer, "You know...you could be rocking one of these jackets right along with me."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, I know."

"So why don't you just accept the job? I mean if we're going to stay, I think that would be the best thing for you." she said.

"I don't know, Chonne...it's just not something that I thought I would ever have to do again. I mean it's not like I hated my job or anything, but...it's just a lot, I guess. Going back to normal."

She nodded, "I know, believe me it feels weird for me too. But we'll get used to it, build up something for the future. If you really think about it, this is the start of something that could be pretty amazing."

I didn't say another thing as I just looked at her, a growing smile on my face that apparently made her grow uneasy. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing...you've just come a long way since I first met you." I said.

She rolled her eyes playfully, "Haven't we all?"

"I guess so," I shrugged, "But you've just become so...positive. Makes me sick sometimes." I joked as I scrunched my nose a bit.

"Just trying to move forward and be optimistic." she said with a small laugh. I hummed in response, watching as she grew a little more serious, "But seriously...just think about it, yeah?"

I stared at her for a moment longer before slowly nodding my head in agreement. I already told Deanna I would think it over, and that's exactly what I was doing. I just didn't know if this decision was the right one. Looking at this opportunity, I only saw it as a shell of who I once was, and that's not someone I necessarily wanted to go back to. All of this was supposed to be a chance to give us a fresh start, not something old from the past that we were trying hard to forget.

The floorboard suddenly creaking to my left is what caused me to look over, seeing Rick was back and making his way up the stairs to stand beside me.

"Hey," he greeted as he squeezed my shoulder before then nodding towards Michonne, "Deanna wants to have a meeting with us about the job. Just the basics of what we're doing." he informed her.

Michonne nodded simply, moving to make her way out of the room as I let her pass, "Well, you kids have fun." I spoke sarcastically to the two of them.

The man chuckled, "Uh, yeah don't think you're getting away that easy. She specifically asked that we bring you along too." My eyes narrowed at him, and he quickly raised his hands to defend himself, "It wasn't my idea, don't look at me like that."

"I haven't even agreed to take this, why do I have to go?"

"Because if I go down, I'm taking you with me." Rick muttered so only I could hear, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to practically drag me out of the house alongside them.

My stomach churned uncomfortably, the anticipation building further and further as we approached her familiar house, making me want to crawl into a hole. I felt as if this is something that I shouldn't be a part of, something I shouldn't have any input on seeing as I hadn't fully committed to the role. And there was still something about this woman that always left me feeling a sense of dread. One that I had felt before, yet couldn't quite place.

As the three of us finally rolled in, Maggie was sitting at the dining table with Deanna to her left, a welcoming smile on her face once she noticed us.

"Ah welcome you three." Deanna greeted, giving us a chance to pile into the room, "Mrs. Dixon tha-"

"Rose." I interrupted with a wave of my hand, "Just Rose."

She nodded slowly, "Of course. Rose, thank you for coming along for the ride. Have you had enough time to think about my proposal?"

I glanced around at the others before shaking my head, "Um, no... still thinking."

"Well, take all the time you need. I've also been meaning to check in to see how the visit with Pete went today, is everything alright?" she asked.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, "Oh yeah, everything's great..." I said sarcastically.

She nodded, "Good."

Man, that one really flew over her head.

Though the man being brought to my attention again caused me to cease the opportunity while I had it, subtly gesturing for Rick's attention while Deanna's eyes were directed elsewhere. Exchanging a few words with Maggie that I couldn't be bothered to pay attention to. I felt him shift closer when he noticed my waving hand, leaning closer so I could lower my voice.

"Keep an eye on him." I muttered.

"Who?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of the others as to not draw attention.

"Pete, the doctor. He's an alcoholic and was showing signs of aggression during our little time together. Could be abusive." I said casually. Though I could feel his gaze divert toward me, staring at me in what looked to be slight amazement. "What?" I asked.

An impressed smile crossed his lips, "Nothing...detective." he emphasized.

I rolled my eyes, "Shut up."

"How long exactly were you with him?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, a few minutes?"

"You found all of that out in a few minutes? And you still don't think this is the job for you?" he continued.

"It wasn't hard to figure out," I assured, "Just please back me up on this, okay?"

Upon seeing how serious I grew, he instantly nodded his head, "You got it, Rosie."

As if on cue, Deanna tore her attention away from Maggie the moment our silent conversation was done, getting straight to business it seemed like. "Well, it seems we all know why we're here. And your job is to protect and serve. You patrol, walk the wall, watch out for the kids. If there's a conflict- you solve it, and people will listen to you."

"Because we're wearing windbreakers?" Michonne asked, her eyes briefly looking at me with a knowing smile.

"Because they believe in this." she answered seriously, "Because I'm telling them to. A police officer used to live here so we already had the jackets, and I wanted to make it official. So, now it's official. There's going to be a government again one day and that's why I want Maggie working with me. There's also going to be a police force, which is why I want...you three to start it."

I couldn't help but shake my head at what she was saying, looking down at my shoes. "What?" she asked when she noticed the slight tension in the room, "Does it sound like pie in the sky?"

"No." Maggie answered immediately, Michonne's voice following soon after as she gave the woman the same answer; the one she wanted to hear.

Deanna then looked at Rick and I expectantly, "No..." we both seemed to mutter at the same time.

But it did. Every single thing she talked about seemed unrealistic, something that she tried hard to push for even though it wouldn't work out in the end. People had to be willing to work together in order to make a bright future possible. But from what I've witnessed, it seemed like not everyone here liked to play nice. And she had absolutely no idea.

"Let's talk security." Rick suddenly said, gesturing with his fingers for us to follow him back outside to look at the gates of Alexandria.

My boots clicked against the pavement as I followed behind the others, hearing Rick start to do what he does best. Take over. But he had clearly noticed something that he wanted to bring our attention to; and that was the lack of protection. He couldn't seem to express enough how there needed to be people on patrol at all times. How there should be someone constantly looking for any type of danger that could be coming our way. It amazed me slightly that this place had lasted as long as it had without really anyone keeping an eye out, especially with how the world was now.

Rick's voice seemed to fade into the background as I looked around at the walls, wanting to find any blind spots that Deanna should be made aware of for the future. But I paused when my eyes instead caught sight of Jessie and Pete standing just outside of the infirmary, talking quietly amongst each other. But by the look on his face, it didn't appear like the conversation would be staying peaceful for very long, his skin turning a slight shade redder. I watched the interaction closely, as if wanting to catch something I wasn't meant to see. As if to prove to myself that I was right about him from the very beginning.

"Excuse me?"

I blinked a few times and looked over to see Sasha approaching the small group we had formed, politely interrupting whatever was being said. However, I quickly tore my attention away again to find the couple I had been analyzing just seconds ago, but to my surprise, they were gone. Like they had vanished into thin air. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me all along, or maybe they had noticed me watching, quickly escaping from the public eye while my attention was elsewhere. I was leaning toward the latter.

"I want to volunteer to be one of the lookouts in the clock tower." Sasha spoke again, her hands resting on her hips as she looked toward Deanna.

"There are no lookouts in the clock tower." the woman said.

My brows furrowed as I was caught up with the conversation now, "What?" I found myself asking before my brain had time to process it.

Michonne grew concerned, "But we saw someone up there earlier."

Deanna waved it off, "That was an empty rifle my son, Spencer put up there. He mans it sometimes but not often. Look...there hasn't been a need."

I couldn't hold it back any longer. Her ignorance and stupidity starting to really get under my skin, "Hasn't been a need? Do you have any idea how dangerous people can be now?" I asked harshly, "There should have always been the need to have someone up there...if you want to protect your people that live here, you better be prepared to make some damn changes."

A deafening silence followed after my outburst. But deep down, I knew they all were aware of how right I was. "The truth is harsh sometimes, but someone had to say it." I muttered.

"No, I agree." Rick chimed in, "We need a lookout in that tower right now, twenty-four seven. It's the only way we'll be able to see if someone's coming at us."

The woman nodded her head in compliance, "Okay, okay, we'll make shifts."

"I'll take those shifts, as many as possible." Sasha quickly offered.

Deanna stared at her for a moment, "Why?"

My eyes panned back and forth between the two women, wanting to roll my eyes at my next words. Even if they were true. "Sasha's one of our best shots, she can handle it."

Sasha glanced over at me in obvious surprise, but ultimately nodded her head as a thank you, to which I returned the gesture. There was obviously a certain tension left between the two of us ever since we were nearly at each other's throats the last time we spoke. But I wasn't planning on holding a grudge. After all I would just be a hypocrite. If Aaron forgave me then why shouldn't I?

Deanna nodded to herself as she looked back at Sasha, "I'm going to put Spencer up there today, and I'll consider you being our primary lookout...but I want something in return."

Sasha grew to look just about as confused as the rest of us, "Tonight, I'm hosting a welcome for all of you at my home. I want you to be there." she said to the woman.

"Why?" she asked.

"Come tonight...then we'll talk about it." she said before turning towards me, "And you too. Don't try and hide out like you have been since the day you got here."

My eyebrows raised, "I'm sorry...hide out?"

"I can see why you and Mr. Dixon are married...similar in many ways. Like running away from anything unfamiliar. But if you'd just venture out for the evening, who knows? You might even have fun." she said with a raise of her eyebrows.

My fists clenched tightly at my sides as I wanted to rip her a new one, but I didn't. I managed to swallow whatever pride I had left before turning around to walk away without another word. It had only been three days in this hell and that bitch was acting like she somehow knew me like the back of her hand. To me it was unbelievable, the way she treated me the minute I walked through her door; like I was below her. It infuriated me.

The sound of heavy footsteps seemed to echo with mine the moment I took off, glancing over my shoulder to see Rick jogging to catch up with me. "Who the hell does she think she is?" I asked harshly before he could even get a word in.

He was slightly out of breath from the little run he had to make, "I don't know...I'm just surprised you held your tongue."

"Oh," I breathed, "Believe me, you have no idea. I'm over here considering her offer to help her and all she can seem to do is insult and condescend me like..." I trailed off, suddenly slowing down to a stop as I came to the sudden realization.

I hadn't thought about her in years. And now it was like she was standing in front of me all over again.

Rick looked down at me in concern, "Like what?"

"Like my mother used to." I finished, connecting the dots in my head finally as to why I resented the woman so much. Why I couldn't stand to be in the same room as her, or even look her in the eye. It was like my childhood was flooding back to me at full force.

But to my surprise the man next to me started to laugh a little, unknowing of the weight behind my words. Though one unamused look from me seemed to shut him up as he cleared his throat. "Sorry," he muttered, "Anything I can do to help?"

"Just...talk about something else, so I don't break into the armory and shoot myself right now." I replied with a thin-lipped smile.

"Speaking of," he lowered his voice, "Carol thought of a plan. She wants to sneak in there tonight so we can get a few of our weapons back."

I blinked, "That's what you guys talked about?" He nodded. "Some meeting." I muttered sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes, "I don't like not having those guns on us at all times; we're taking them back. The party tonight- everyone's gonna be there. That's our chance."

I nodded slowly, "Okay, fine. Carol's taking care of it?"

His eyes panned from me to just past my head, "I'm about to find out." he said, causing me to turn around to see where his gaze was now trained too. The woman herself was standing nearby, talking to some neighbor on the porch a few houses down from where we stood.

"Okay," I agreed as I turned back around, "Just keep me updated on what's happening." I spoke, snapping his attention back to me as he nodded in confirmation. "Did Daryl come back with you?"

He nodded, "Yeah, but he said something about heading out again to go out on a hunt. I'm thinking he needs more time away from here."

"Right. I'm going to try and catch him before he leaves."

"I'll talk to Carol." he said.

And with that, we parted ways, splitting off to head down different directions of the street. In my opinion, the idea of taking back the guns that were rightfully ours to begin with didn't seem like that big of a deal. It's not like we were trying to take over this place now, even if it was something to keep in the back of our minds.

My head was practically spinning and it was already starting to feel like the longest day of my life. With the secrecy we were keeping from the others about the armory, the idea of Pete being a new threat we had yet to escape from, and Deanna...it was a lot to process. I suppose this just goes to show that it doesn't matter how lucky you are with what you got, life truly doesn't get any easier.

"Hey, Ro!"

I sighed as I came to a stop again. What now?

Looking back, I saw Maggie approaching as she too apparently wanted to catch me before I wandered off, coming around to face me with a soft huff. "Well...that could've gone better don't you think?"

"You're the one who jumped at the opportunity to work alongside someone like that." I deadpanned.

She sighed, "Don't start. You know we need to put in the work, make an effort around here if we want to stay. And that includes going to that party..." she hinted sheepishly.

I pretended to think about it for a moment, "Hm...no."

Her face dropped, "What? Come on babe, she asked you to be there just like everyone else should be."

"Yeah, right before she insulted me." I corrected, "Did you know she acted like that from the minute I had my interview with her? She didn't even know me, and she still looked down her nose at me. I can't say I'm a huge fan."

She sighed, "Alright- you're right, she shouldn't have treated you like that. So, don't show up for her, show up for...me. Please?"

"Don't do this to me." I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Now, you know you don't do nothing you don't wanna do, but it would mean a lot if you stopped by tonight. And hey, maybe you can even get Daryl to go."

I stared at her like she was crazy. "Oh yeah, he'll be there. Maybe I can even get him to wear a nice, pretty dress."

She narrowed her eyes at me, "Stop."

"No, no, maybe with some heels too, that'll be real nice and classy."

"Okay, enough, you made your point." she laughed lightly, "But you never know unless you ask, and I know that man would do just about anything for you."

I sighed heavily, "Alright I'll ask...but I'm preparing to get shut down."

"So...you'll be there?" she asked with that hopeful glint in her eye.

It was silent for a few seconds before I rolled my eyes again how she was able to subtly manipulate me, "I'll be there."

A smile broke out onto her face and she pulled me into a hug, thanking me over and over again under her breath. I couldn't really understand why it was so important that I showed up in the first place when the others company would be just as good as mine, but I didn't linger on it. After we parted she began heading in the other direction, but not before calling over her shoulder that I should wear something nice. Like a dress? I was kind of joking about that. I guess maybe now it was a part of my karma.

Again I found myself lost in a spiral of thoughts on the way back into the house, mindlessly wandering in to see if Daryl was around here somewhere or if I was too late and he had already left. A part of me wanted to at least try to convince him to come with me, but I knew in the back of my mind he wouldn't do it. He hated shit like this just as much as I did.

Going out and socializing wasn't really his thing and that's okay. Socializing wasn't really my thing either, but here I am, being forced to go against my will. "You should take the job," "You should come to the party," man, these people were sure as hell making themselves comfortable crowding on my back. And I say that with love.

I looked up suddenly when I heard footsteps making their way down the stairs, seeing my husband in all his glory, standing there with his crossbow slung across his back ready for a hunt.

"Hey, there ya are." he said as he came up and kissed my cheek, "Was just about to head out and find ya."

I smiled, "I was looking for you too."

We fell in step together as he headed toward the kitchen just down the hall, "Did ya talk to Rick bout the meetin we had this mornin?"

I nodded, "Yep, the plan about the guns, be ready for anything, we aren't taking this place over yet still being cautious. I got the whole thing." I went on.

He huffed softly, "Alright, good. M' bout to go out huntin but I'll be back by dark. Just wanted to come and say goodbye to ya first." he said with a sweet smile before turning and grabbing a glass from a cabinet.

I took in a breath, "Okay, yeah just be safe out there...and uh, I actually wanted to run something by you quick."

"Shoot." he said, briefly glancing at me over his shoulder.

Here we go. "Well, Deanna mentioned this thing earlier that's happening tonight at her house, and the whole group is invited. It's more like a...party?"

"Mhm." he hummed.

Jesus Christ, please take the hint.

"And the thing is, I wanted to ask if you...would spare me the absolute horror of having to go by myself...?" I asked hesitantly.

He was silent for a moment before he let out a soft huh sound, turning on the faucet and holding the glass underneath to get the cup full of water. "I know it's not your thing; it's definitely not mine either, but I sort of promised Maggie I'd show up. Not that I know what difference that would make, I don't exactly light up the room with my bubbly personality. But anyway, I get it if you don't want to, I just thought I would, you know, ask."

"Rosie?" he questioned.

I raised my eyebrows, "Yeah?"

"Yer rambling." he said with a slight chuckle.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes, "My point is, you really don't have to go if you don't want to."

There was a long and terribly loud silence as I watched the wheels turn in his head even though he was facing away from me. He took his time taking long sips of the water in his hand, purposefully making me crazy. I could almost sense the smirk on his face while he did it. He knew what he was doing, I just wanted him to turn down the offer faster so I could get on with my day.

My nails began to tap impatiently on the counter, "May I remind you that you don't have to go?" I repeated to try and move this along.

He turned back to look at me, his smirk fading slowly as he saw the look on my face, before he turned back and dumped the rest of the water down the drain, "Ya want me to go?" he asked, now facing me again.

"Well...yeah-" I started.

"Then I'll go."

I shook my head a little, "What, that easy?"

He shrugged with a small smile, "Yep." he said, making his way over to stand in front of me, "But I ain't stayin the whole time." he warned.

"I'm not staying the whole time."

"Well, then you got a date pretty lady." he said softly before leaning down to peck my lips, the action alone bringing the reassurance I needed.

I hummed with a smile as I tilted my head to look at his face a little longer before he left for a few hours, "Is it pushing it if I asked you to dance with me while we're there?"

"Yeah." he answered immediately.

I shrugged, "Eh, worth a shot."

He chuckled quietly, leaning down to kiss me once more before parting from me, adjusting the strap of his weapon. "Might not be back by the time it starts, but I'll be there, alright?"

"Hey, you're showing up, that's more than I could ask for." I joked.

He smiled, "I'll see ya later."

"Bye" I winked, watching as he headed out toward the front door, opening and shutting it with a soft click, leaving me alone in the quiet.

Now I had the whole day to be anxious about this stupid party.

I never thought I would ever be in this situation again. Staring at a closet full of clothes, absolutely not knowing what the hell to wear.

I was never a big fan of dresses really, but it seemed like the only suitable option considering I didn't just want to show up in a shirt and jeans. I had been nervously anticipating this event for hours, cautious about meeting a bunch of people and the thought of dressing up sounded awful. But regardless, I promised Maggie that I would be there, and a part of me wanted to prove to Deanna that I wasn't just going to hide myself away like she had claimed. Even though I felt it was better that I did.

Eventually, I decided on a simple black dress with thin straps and added a pair of tights to really bring the look together. And luckily enough, I had managed to find a pair of dark heels sitting in an old shoe box in the closet, a pair that looked like they would absolutely torture my feet the moment I put them on. I sighed quietly to myself before walking over to the full-length mirror and taking a look at the final product in the reflection.

My eyes widened slightly when I saw what I looked like. I guess maybe I could clean up nice, even though the scars on my face didn't really match the whole "classy" look; it was still unique. My thick curly hair came down to below my chest and surprisingly looked full and healthy, but as my eyes trailed down, I noticed just how jittery my hands were. A small part of me wished that Daryl was here to help soothe my worries, walking right next to me into that personal hell as we went through it together. But that wasn't the case. I didn't need him there, but I wanted him there.

"Wow." came a sudden voice from the doorway.

I turned around slowly to see Rick standing there with slightly wide eyes and his hands on his hips. He was dressed nicely in a clean, white button down and some nice black jeans with his hair slightly slicked back.

I made a face, "Like a good wow?" I asked, subconsciously smoothing the dress down to get rid of any lingering wrinkles.

He nodded his head, "Yeah...like a...a breathtaking wow."

A shy smile stretched across my lips as I waved him off, "Aw, thanks Ricky."

He laughed softly, making his way further into the room until he was standing right in front of me, "I've never seen you so dressed up...you look nice."

"Yeah, well don't get used to it or anything. You don't look too bad yourself." I said as I slightly fixed the collar of his shirt, "Got someone you're trying to impress?" I asked with a wiggle of my eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes, "Thank you, but no. Just going because..." he trailed off, before sighing as he rubbed his head stressfully, "I don't even know why I'm going."

I nodded, "You're not the only one in that boat." I muttered, my eyes taking him in for a moment in contemplation, "Hey, can I ask you something?" He met my eyes and nodded. "That job...you really think I should take it?"

"Yeah," he assured almost instantly, "I get why you're weary...but you're damn good at being a cop Rose. You just have to...trust yourself again."

I knew he was right. At times like these when all I could do was doubt myself, he always seemed to swoop in and say just the right thing whenever I needed to hear it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad in the end.

I smiled at him in appreciation before my feet involuntarily shifted uncomfortably, to which I let out a frustrated groan. Rick began to chuckle under his breath, "What, was the advice that bad?" I heard him ask.

"No," I sighed, "We just haven't even left the house yet, and my feet are already killing me." I said in faux agony.

He laughed even harder before moving by my side to place an arm around my shoulders for support, "It's alright. Just lean on me when you need to."

"Ah, you're the best." I mused as I wrapped an arm around him to steady myself as we walked out the bedroom door.

After getting Carl and Judith, the four of us left the house to venture down the street towards Deanna's. The sun was just starting to set which gave the whole community a warm orange glow, and we could already start to hear the music that was being played from the inside as we inched our way closer to the source.

Before any of us were really ready for it, we were standing tall in front of the door, almost dreading to knock. Though eventually Rick stepped up to the plate while Carl and I eyed each other cautiously, both silently hoping this wouldn't be as bad as we thought. But just as that thought crossed my mind, the door opened up to reveal Deanna standing there, greeting us with a welcoming smile. While over half the community in the background immediately looked over at us with curious glances.

Yeah, this was going to be a long fucking night.

~ Thanks for reading!

Taglist ~ @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @marsmallow433 @catlalice @winterassassin1804 @writingstreetspirit @silentlysurffering98 @mystictf @remuslittlesister

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x original character #daryl dixon series #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead series #twd #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #twd fanfiction #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #desert rose

27 notes · View notes

keeper-of-sparkly-things · 3 days ago

Text

swr wof crossover au

Exactly five people have shown interest so i have taken that as permission to talk about this a little

(All of the art is not mine, its commissioned from my sister who does not have a tumblr, heres her youtube instagram and deviantart if you want to look at more of her stuff)

Anyway this idea spawned in discord when me and my friends were talking about how there are too few mythical creature aus of starwars and especially rebels and so i jokingly mentioned that someone could do a wings if fire au. It has since consumed my brain. Have some thoughts

Spectre 1, Kanan Jarrus

This guy is a leafwing. Thought process was “He’s green. Connected to the living force. And it would be cool” He is an animus, like all jedi will be in this au. He is one of very few pantalan dragons that have ever been an animus. His backstory isn’t that much different in canon, he ends up in the scorpion den with Hera. He also happens to have fairly strong leafspeak, though it doesn't see much combative action in the desert. At the time rebels starts he is about 11 dragon years old, at the time the empire rose he was 6 dragon years old.

Spectre 2 Hera Syndulla

Hera is a silkwing/sandwing hybrid. Since silkwings were almost entirely slaves or something similar in arc 3, and since twi’leks are the most slaves in starwars, i decided to make her a silkwing, and also because shes pretty. However, a friend said she had strong queen Thorn vibes and so now shes a hybrid sandwing who happens to work with the rebellion in the scorpion den. She has regular silk and also a tail barb, though it is smaller than other sandwings, but its still just as dangerous. Around the time rebels starts she is a little less than ten dragon years old, when the empire rose she was almost 5.

Spectre 3 Chopper

He is actually a little animus enchanted wooden octopus. Basically a while ago an animus decided animus’s were too powerful and purposefully nerfed the entire system, including things like you can enchant living things including the spellcaster, as such, animated carvings and such became fairly common, as they were technically nit alive but could still move as if they were. Think Blob from darkstalker except chopper has the side effect of being much more violent since he was separated from his creator. Hera found him in some ruins during the clone wars. No one knows how old he is.

Spectre 4 Garazeb Orrelios

This guy is just a normal icewing because theres a sad lack of purple icewings in wof canon. And also icewings and nightwings have had a rivalry since forever (i know that was supposed to be fixed in arc two but i needed a reason for a nightwing king to be willing to wipe of a large chunk of a tribe and palpatine in nothing without his ability to hold grudges over things he wasn’t even alive for that dont matter anymore) in this au he is still a captain of a guard, but it isn’t The royal guard (since theres only ten dragon tribes but hundreds of starwars species so we cant just entirely eliminate one dragon tribe with it being a much bigger problem than just the lasat) It is the biggest city besides the one where the royal family lives, and a lot of lesser nobility and a fair chunk of the icewing army, including where they train the new recruits is there. After it gets destroyed (there were Rumors that the nobility of the city were in league with rebellion, so if course the empire decided to go to the extreme and kill literally everyone who lived there) Zeb then goes into hiding in the Scorpion Den, thinking the desert would be the last place they would look for a reputable icewing, and there he meets kanan and hera. They recruit him by fighting imperials together and saving him from death by dehydration. He would have been 20 when the empire rose and 25 by the start of rebels. (@kanerallels has actually made this fic of him meeting kanan and hera go check it out if you haven’t please)

Spectre 5 Sabine Wren

Shes a rainwing. In Darkstalker and in the guide to a dragon world, they are mentioned to be widely feared assassins. Queen Glory wanted the rainwings to not be useless in a fight so she taught some of them to fight. The group that learned to fight took it too far and became the mandalorians, and sabine having been a bounty hunter at some point in canon, and also liking to express herself through her outward appearance, this is what i landed on. All her armor is enchanted by kanan to blend in with her scales when shes trying to be stealthy. This is what eventually persuaded her to join them. She was 1 when the empire rose and is 6 when rebels starts.

Spectre 6 Ezra Bridger

He is a silkwing hivewing hybrid. In the books these tribes seem to be more purposefully agricultural than the other tribes, being the only ones (i think) that have gardens for food instead of decoration, and they also have greenhouses, and lothal is a farming planet. Pantala is also a good out of the way grassland that doesn’t immediately have the attention of the empire, which is very convenient for him since he’s basically the most illegal person to ever exist. Unregistered child (illegal under the empire) who is also a hybrid (also illegal) descendent of a flamesilk (illegal when unregulated) and an animus (illegal period under the empire) and happens to have both abilities(because hes my favorite and i can do whatever i want), as well as a tail barb meant for paralyzing others, though both his flamesilk and his tail barb are significantly weaker than the average because of hybrid genetics. (His tail can barely paralyze tiny dragonets and prey and doesn’t work on bigger things without enhancement, and unless he purposely uses his hottest silk its not hot enough to actually burn most dragons) his parents did work with the rebellion on pantala, but because an emergency they traveled to pyrrhia and brought ezra with them because he was to dangerous to leave alone but were attacked and imprisoned halfway across the ocean, leaving ezra alone, and being like 2 years old at the time, lost his sense of direction and wandered to pyrrhia instead of pantala (bridges were built at some point connecting the continents by the islands) it should be known that he has no idea hes an animus at this point and thinks hes just really good at disguises and everyone else is just very dumb, when in reality hes like enchanting a poncho to make him look like a non hybrid and other accessories to make him look different by accident. He eventually wanders over to the scorpion den and causes a LOT of chaos which led to the ghost crew finding and adopting him. He was born on the first empire day and was about 4.5 years old when rebels starts. (If you want some angst he grows his wings right after malachor and kanan completely misses it)

25 notes · View notes

willowlevulett · 6 hours ago

Text

I have no idea if I'll finish this but here's a little drabble that's been in my drafts for weeks.

The freezing air nips painfully at his bare arms as Jayce slides his balcony door closed, his lighter heavy in his hand.

"I would suggest you review and give the board alternative suppliers or materials by Monday. You would do well to remember why we all do this, Jayce"

He sighs, sinking into the frost covered cushion of a rickety lounge chair. He breathes through the ache of the cold, through the panic that still prickled up his spine even after all these years. It was a game he played. It was dumb and he kept his mouth shut about it. How long could he last in the cold before his nervous system became convinced he was freezing to death all over again. The answer everytime was not long. He slides his jacket roughly over his shoulders.

He was a weak man after all.

"I would strongly suggest you leave, Jayce"

His name has been tossed around quite frequently as of late. It felt nowadays more common than not that someone knew his name before he had a chance to say it. How odd of an existence, your own name ripped from your mouth before you have a chance to form it. This, too, was dumb. He knew that. Many people begged and pleaded for his very privileged, cushy life. Hell, when he was young and bright-eyed, he gazed up at the faces of the titans of industry and progress and hoped beyond hope that he would join them one day.

Well, here he was. The life he clawed and prayed for. And he was smoking on his balcony because of it. A shameful habit, this he also knew. Jayce could name a million other things he'd rather tell his mother than the small fact that he smoked. He'd rather look her in the eye and say he had a praise kink before he let her even got a whiff of smoke on his clothes.

The click of the lighter was a comfort. The warmth of the smoke in his mouth was like an old kiss. The cigarette balanced between his fingers was grounding. All of it was very simple. He could explain why he smoked. He knew why. The scientific and biological explanation shoved violently to the wayside. No, it wasn't the inherent addictive properties of nicotine, though he wouldn't deny that is a huge part of it. The reason he would say with a guilty, teeth barring smile is that he feels like himself when he's doing it.

So many of his choices in life have been reckless. He broke his arm at the ripe age of 9 because he figured out how to open the second story window and had always wanted to see the stars on the roof. He crashed his first car while trying to go back roading with his first boyfriend tucked in the front seat. He has a scar that snakes across the entirety of his back that he got into a bar fight when he was freshly 19 and snuck into a seedy bar with a friend he doesn't even remember the name of now.

Professionally, it has been no different. When his work at upper grad became increasingly worrying to his professors, they banned him from continuing his research into renewable energy in his school lab. Explosion risks were cited, but mostly, it was the risk of their oil grants being threatened by the continuation of the testing he was doing. Well, they weren't wrong about the explosion risks. The shrapnel that caught him in the right rib speaks to this all too well. The doctors said they couldn't remove it all and would only try in the future if it migrates too close to his lung. Jayce runs his hand over his rib cage and almost feels like he can feel it. A piece of his own invention nestled safety inside. He takes a long drag and thinks of the man who helped him bring it past that violate point and into something real. Something useful. Not just reckless.

Viktor. Sharp lines, sharp wit, sharp words, and sharp golden eyes. Viktor slid into his life with the grace and finesse of an assassin's knife. The wound he cut was clean, healed well, and could've been deadly if he so chose.

He was not reckless. He was calculating to a fault. The perfect pairing to a perpetual fuck up of an engineer that is Jayce Talis.

Jayce slips his hand under his shirt, pressing his chilled fingertips to the scars that litter his skin. He feels himself take a long shuddering breath.

No, no, let's not think about it, he begs himself. But like with all things, Jayce never listens.

Viktor, as beautiful as light shining through a shard of glass, had held his jaw in a vice grip last night. Jayce, as smooth as a train wreck, had gasped and sputtered an apology before he even registered what might be wrong. He was always making mistakes with Viktor. Drinking three too many beers at the mans apartment surely resulted in at least one.

Viktor had simply stared at him for a moment before releasing his jaw like one would release a bird back to the wild. With a flick of his fingers and a pushing forward motion that seemed to suggest to Jayce that he should flee out the window.

"I'm sorry. What was it? Am..am I too drunk? I've been drunker with you. I don't-I don't understand. Vik-"

"Jayce." His name. Always his name. Viktor always says it like it's made of honey. Jayce wants him to drip it on his tongue.

"What you just said." Oh lord, what he said. Jayce crumbles in on himself, one hand still clutching the burning cigarette, the other wrapped around his ribs.

"You just said," the specter of Viktor in his head continued, "that I am the most beautiful thing you've ever seen."

And Jayce had. They were discussing the stained glass of the cathedral they had passed on their work trip to England. It had been breathingly gorgeous when they decided it was worth the detour and went inside. The colors played like giddy children across the stonework floor. The high ceilings held the ribs of gorgeously carved wooden beams. But despite all that, Jayce found himself looking at how the light played in Viktor's hair. How his pupils dilated. How he licked his lips before he started to ramble about 18th century philosophy.

He was the most beautiful thing Jayce has ever seen. He shouldn't have said it. Viktor was not reckless. Starting a relationship between them was everything Jayce was and Viktor wasn't. He was no fool, Jayce knew enough about himself to know he was far too open with his emotions for Viktor to not at least have a guess that he habored more than work appropriate feelings for the other man. They had been working together three years now and he still couldn't figure out if Viktor returned those feelings. After last night, Jayce thinks with a bitter, painful swallow, he got his answer.

The answer was no.

No. Oh gods, it was no.

Jayce was hopelessly head over heels in love with him and Viktor's answer was no. Jayce, ever the fool, had taken one more risk and had gently set his hand on the side of the other mans neck. He had felt the rabbiting pusle of him, could feel how soft the skin was. He had touched him here before. All casual and never in this intimate manner where his palm pressed against the column of his throat. It was heaven, it was the cold depths of hell. Something in his face must've showed how much he felt for Viktor. It must've betrayed him like it always does. Too expressive, everyone always told him. And Viktor told him to leave. So, he did.

He had a painfully awkward progress report with their investment board earlier this afternoon. Viktor rarely ever showed up to those, but his absence ached worse than the hangover anyway. It went horribly. The board wasn't happy with the cost of materials and was demanding they either rework what metal they are using in the generators or bring the cost down in other ways. Jayce wasn't looking forward to bringing this all to his partner tomorrow.

He lights another cigarette, finally uncurling his fingers from where his nails have bitten half moons into the skin.

"Those will kill you."

Jayce startles, his chair clattering backwards, knocking his ash tray clear across the balcony. A string of curses tumble from his mouth as he whips to lock eyes with none other than the ghost who's been haunting him all day.

Viktor has one hand curled around the open balcony door and the other on his cane. How Jayce didn't hear the door slide open or the click of his cane, well, he'd rather be embarrassed about one thing at a time.

"Hey." It was meant to sound casual, but it comes out sounding absolutely wrecked. His throat suddenly hoarse, his voice thick. He clears it and tries again.

"Hey, buddy! I was just going shoot off a text that we'll need to meet in the morning. Lots of demands from the board. You know how it is." Too much. It was too cheery and over the top. Jayce grimaces and drops his head into his smoke wreathed hands. Hiding, a cowards move. God, could this be any worse.

"Can I sit?" No. Yes. Always. Please leave and let me suffer alone.

"Of course."

#jayce talis #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #jayvik #arcane #jayce x viktor #more just writing practice #and also jayce has me by the throat and I want to write him all the time #jayce smokes because I want him to

24 notes · View notes

theexaltedbride · 3 days ago

Text

Chronicles of Darkness is a total reboot. There are similarities between the two settings though so this is a bit of a TLDR, and honestly I really like Werewolf the Forsaken way more than Apocalypse. The Uratha feel much more heroic and less eugenics focused than the Garou. But in this one the Uratha (the werewolves) are descendants of two ancestral Spirits. Father Wolf, and Mother Luna. They inherit all of their powers from their ancient ancestors. Father Wolf was once guardian of the gauntlet between the world of the living and the world of spirits. He kept the two separate/made sure no spirit or human stayed too long on the other side, as they could have ill effects. He hunted great and terrible monsters known as the Idigam (eldritch horrors akin to the Wyrm and other horrors like that, to the point some of the descendants of the Idigam still fear wolves because of it, such as the Rat spirits who keep trying to eat away at the borders of reality and let in more horrors) and Father Wolf won the love of Mother Luna who bore him multiple children known as the First Born.

Mother Luna was known as 'Warden Moon' and a shapeshifter, and she actually imprisoned many of these Idigams to keep them from bothering the mortal world.

Eventually Father Wolf grew sick and weak, unable to hunt as he used to and his own children wished to usurp him. All of them knew about it, and only a few went through with it (though some hedged their bets and chose to stay silent). In a terrible fight they killed Father wolf and sought to take his place.

Mother Luna was not happy, in her sadness she cursed the wolves with weaknesses to Silver, and some Uratha (the ones who knew about the plan to kill Father Wolf but did nothing) rejected Luna and accused her of being behind it and outright rejected taking up Father Wolf's old duties. The would call themselves "The Pure" and would become werewolf supremacists believing that eth world would be better with spirits running wild, infecting reality, and letting them roam free to pull an Impergium on humans.

The other wolves "the Forsaken", accepted that they had done wrong. And tried to prove themselves to Mother Luna by taking up Father Wolf's old duties of keeping balance between the mortal realm and the spirit world, for they themselves were born of spirits and would become tied to humanity (though we can only assume this is from Firstborn mating with humans, but it never explicitly says how werewolves became part human, unless we imagine Mother Luna looked human when she was with Father Wolf). Many spirits hated the Forsaken from keeping balance, and forcing them to remain to their duties, but Mother Luna saw that they did, and actually chose to forgive them. She removed some of the weakness the Forsaken had to silver, and bestowed on them Silver Tattoos and Auspice powers to make them stronger and better able to fulfill Father Wolf's duties. Now many eons later, the Forsaken still keep up this duty, surrounded on all sides by hostile spirits and the cruel predations of 'The Pure', who want to do plenty of horrible things to humanity, the Forsaken, and even Luna. The later supplements even make it canon that some Idigam have broken free of Luna's prison, and it is up to the Forsaken to stop them. But despite always being outnumbered, the Forsaken haven't lost yet and they still keep the balance.

The Wolf Must Hunt, and so they shall.

(As I said this is a TLDR and I'm leaving out a lot of details, but I honestly love Werewolf the Forsaken much more than Apocalypse, even went so far as to actually get most of the books. Highly reccomend starting with the 2nd Edition and then finding supplements/sourcebooks which interest you. Thanks to the modularity of CofD, you can really play around with the setting and change things up. I recently just completed a game where a trio of Werewolves befriended a runaway Changeling and they formed an alliance which saw them allying with other local changelings to kill Huntsmen (Fae bounty hunters) and work with more Forsaken packs to chase all of the vampires out of the city and turn it into a safe zone for Forsaken and Changelings. Surprisingly a lot of Werewolf and Changeling lore fit together in odd places).

If you were interested in checking out a playthrough, I'd also highly recommend "The Bitches of Brewery Park" by DorkTales. its very well done and shows a lot of the aspects of Forsaken.

(Image is not mine. Taken from the Werewolf The Forsaken book "Signs of the Moon". )

I don't know what it is about this image but it manages to be so wonderfully bittersweet within a dark setting. Werewolf dad watching out for his kids and making sure they are okay. Still trying to be a part of his family's life even while fulfilling the duties of the Uratha.

It might be inconsequential to most people, but it's one of the things in Chronicles of Darkness that keeps coming to mind and is one of the glimmers of light that show the setting is worth fighting for.

86 notes · View notes

getaapologist · 3 days ago

Text

The Tension and the Terror.............Part VI

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (extremely loosely, character is named but otherwise not described besides hair length in a later part)

Summary: Letha looks out for Caracalla. Geta plays healer and they are interrupted, oh so rudely.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of blood, 18+ only

Word Count: 2.9k

Part 6 of 13?

[ Part V ]

Series Masterlist

A/N: Hope you like this! There's just something about a reserved, yet teasing Geta. I can imagine it so well. I don't think I would be able to rein myself in. I would probably already have been killed, honestly.

“I do love it when they flood the Colosseum,” Caracalla confided, leaning over to where Letha sat at his side, sharing his wide chair. He was hardly sat in it anyways, constantly getting up to lean over the ledge, watching the sharks as they circled in the water. She had hardly spared a look Geta’s way since his dismissiveness that morning. Besides, she had a new job now.

She didn’t know what she’d do if there was a reprisal so soon, but she could try her best. It wasn’t as if she had any choice. She tried to ignore the pain radiating from her shoulder. No thought was given to her pain by anyone around her, so she said nothing of it. She wasn’t sure what could be done anyway, and she wasn’t about to ask Caracalla for some of his supply. She didn’t like the way it made her feel.

“Do you like the games, Letha?” Caracalla asked, leaning back in his throne, quite close to Letha. It didn’t bother her. But it would probably be an entirely different story if it were his brother instead. Just imagining it made her feel foolish. At least this time she could blame the heat on her state.

“Not particularly, Emperor,” she admitted.

He grinned. “Well, I think you’ll like this one. You might recognize some of them.”

Something about the way he said it struck her as particularly mean, despite his innocent tone. As if it didn’t occur to him that she could be distressed at that fact. And she was distressed. Though most of them were prone to act out their baser impulses, there were a handful that still knew how to behave around a woman. She hoped she didn’t see them here today.

As the boats appeared, any effort to converse with Letha was abandoned. She watched Caracalla react to the promise of bloodshed much like any other Roman she’d encountered. With unabated glee. He was childlike, but there was nothing innocent in the way he cheered for every fallen man, every spray of blood. He didn’t cheer for any particular side, he cheered for the violence. She now understood what Macrinus told her. That he was bloodthirsty.

And the sound. The sound. She grit her teeth, attempting to hold in the way she wanted to react to the fighting as it crashed all around her. She was dangerously close to getting lost in her memory. She could just barely begin to make out her home in the distance, the trees behind it on fire, when–

The impact of the arrow hitting the wooden post of Geta’s throne shook Letha out of her spiral. Her hands were on Caracalla in a heartbeat, seizing the shoulders of his robes and hauling him down below the wall of the Emperors’ box. Her shoulder screamed in protest at the sudden motion and forced a cry to leave her throat as she bashed it into the floor.

It was followed soon after by fearful noises coming from the smaller Emperor. His hand gripped her forearm tightly and she could tell he was on the verge of panic. As the guards moved in she helped him get up, keeping a hand on his back to press him lower to prevent him from being an easy target as they fled the box.

Once they were inside the innards of the Colosseum she eased her hold on Caracalla. She still stayed firmly at his side just in case someone thought to take advantage of the chaos. She had lost sight of his brother, annoyed with herself at the stab of concern that surfaced at the thought of his safety.

“This way, Emperor,” General Tegula instructed, gesturing to a small passage just behind him. Caracalla paused, feet planted in the flow of Praetorians and senators as they moved briskly past them to the public exit. “Emperor Caracalla?”

Letha moved around him, eyes searching, trying to figure out what was wrong. He looked a lot like how she’d felt back in the Colosseum before the chaos unfolded. Trapped in her mind. Terrified.

“Emperor Caracalla, we have to go back home,” she soothed, talking to him like she might a small child. “I’m sure Dondus would like to know you’re safe.”

“Where is my brother?” he asked, light eyes swimming with unshed tears.

“Through here,” Letha explained, pointing to the doorway behind her. “I’m sure he is so worried about you. Let’s not keep him waiting any longer,” she smiled, holding a hand out for Caracalla to take.

“Hurry,” Tegula pleaded, urging them on through the passage.

Caracalla finally gripped her hand and she gently tugged him along behind her through the descending passage, her other hand holding up the hem of her skirts so she didn’t stumble in the low light. She didn’t have time to think about the pain in her shoulder. She would check the damage done later.

Seeing light at the end of the sloped walkway, she prepared herself for the bright sun. Guards waited there to usher them to the safety of a waiting carriage. She gently held Caracalla back, stepping into the carriage first to check the occupants. She could feel him keeping a grip on the skirts of her dress.

Sticking her head in, Letha locked eyes with a stressed Geta. “My brother?” he questioned, reminding her of her new responsibility. She reached down for Caracalla’s wrist and pulled him inside, moving aside so he could step past. The twins relaxed at the sight of each other, unharmed.

Letha sat down on the firm wood bench closest to the opening as her adrenaline finally abated, the flaring of the pain in her shoulder now radiating down to her elbow.

The two men sat beside each other, Geta listening intently as Caracalla relayed the horrors he’d just experienced. It was an intimate look into their relationship, one Letha suspected almost no one got to see. Though they were the same age, Geta was far and away the older brother out of the two. A natural protector. She could see genuine comfort in Geta’s face as Caracalla’s panic eased into a frustrated rant at the games being cut short.

Letha nearly slid down to the floor as the carriage began to move, quite quickly at that. Her quick reach for something to grab onto caused her to groan, her hand reaching for her shoulder.

“Are you alright, Letha?” Caracalla asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, holding her hand out to urge him to remain in his seat. The last thing they all needed was him hitting his head on something.

“Letha, you’re bleeding,” Geta spoke.

She was confused.

“Your hand,” Geta urged, concern in his eyes.

She turned her wrist and was confronted by her palm, stained with blood. She reached for her shoulder despite the throbbing pain and moved the fabric aside, realizing that the cloth covering was soaked through with blood. She let out a frustrated sigh and desperately hoped she hadn’t ripped any of the stitching. She didn’t think she would survive another visit from the healer and his needle.

Geta kept his eyes on Letha, unable to help himself. Even after they arrived home and she led Caracalla back inside, she still put aside her discomfort to follow his brother to his chambers. As Caracalla led her down the hallway, Geta could hear her assuring his brother that she would visit the healer as soon as he was safe in his rooms. It stirred emotions in Geta that he wasn’t prepared for.

Under normal circumstances it would be him leading Caracalla back to his rooms, easing his concerns after such a stressful day. How Caracalla didn’t have an outburst at any point after the stray arrow lodged into the wood beside Geta’s head, Geta couldn’t say. It had been a while since the last one, and Letha had not yet experienced a true fit. She shouldn’t be so good at it, but she was. It was undeniable.

Geta felt uncertain. With his usual responsibility to his brother taken up by Letha, he was left with nothing to do. He supposed now was as good a time as any to visit the bath, to truly relax and make the most of his free time before dinner arrived and he had to host their guests. An exhausting responsibility, one he wished he could delegate to his brother. But alas, his brother surely didn’t want it either.

His conversation with Macrinus had eased his concerns about her. Slightly. He had been lured in by her initially, and was captured by her show of violence, but the idea that he could become a target of it gave him enough pause to back off. This softness she had for his brother, however, warmed him right back up to her. He wanted to speak with her, to tell her he was grateful for her protection of his brother. To tell her she could never leave them now.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Emperor, but I still don’t know my way around this place. Where is my room?”

Geta looked up and felt almost startled by her presence, as if his quiet thoughts had summoned her. “Letha…”

“Yes?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow.

He forced his distracting thoughts out of his head. “Shouldn’t you be looking for the healer?”

She glanced away, down to the marble floor. “I’m not eager to find myself at the mercy of that needle again,” she admitted.

Geta smiled slightly, mischief blossoming in his chest. “Come with me.”

She looked up sharply, confusion in her eyes.

“I’ve tended to a great many wounds,” he explained. “I can check on it at least.”

He could see the questions she wanted to ask, could almost hear them asked in her voice. No matter how pleasant, the implication of them would still cut deeply. He didn’t want to discuss it and hoped she wouldn’t push it.

“I don’t want to take up your time, I’ll go see the healer,” she excused, stepping back.

“But you don’t know how to get there,” Geta teased. A flutter passed through his stomach at the sight of her eyes narrowing. “Come,” he grinned, “I’ll show you around.”

She let out a sigh before taking a step towards him, her hands gesturing ahead as if to urge him to start walking. He didn’t need to be told twice, holding her gaze for a moment before turning around and strolling deep into the palace.

Letha couldn’t breathe, didn’t dare move as Geta’s ringed fingers hooked under the fabric over her shoulder. She could feel him staring her down as he lowered the strap, revealing the deep maroon-stained bandage. She figured he probably liked this, her unwilling to meet his eyes, floundering quietly beneath him. She felt like she was back in that warm room, shrinking under the weight of his teasing.

His fingers pressed at her tender skin, making her wince. He lifted the bandage up off the wound. The pain forced her eyes shut as she bit back the groan travelling up her throat. It stayed stuck against the stitches, the dried blood holding firm.

“Hmm,” he paused, “water,” he muttered, leaving her side. She allowed herself to look at him now, watching him as he approached a table across the room where fruit and pitchers sat, waiting to satisfy any urge he might have for sustenance. He returned with a cup of clear, refreshing water.

She looked up at him, having reached the threshold of quality time with Geta required to be comfortable. She found herself slowly getting used to the weight of his presence. It could be dangerous.

“Do all Emperors receive the training of a healer, or just you?”

The corner of Geta’s lips quirked up at her effort at banter. “I’d hardly call it training. I can summon him if you wish,” he offered, meaning the healer.

“Do you have a needle over there?” she asked, glancing over at the tray placed on the small side table pulled up to his hip. She did find it highly curious that Geta, of all people, would have these things in his rooms. She didn’t think it was appropriate to ask why.

He wrung the scrap of cloth out slightly before pressing it to her shoulder and the stuck bandage. “No.”

She winced, but tried to hide it, for his sake. “Then I think I’ll be okay in your hands,” she answered.

“My hands, hmm?” he teased.

Her face grew hot at his suggestive tone. “That’s not what I meant.”

He let out a chuckle, unable and unwilling to hide his amusement from her. “It’s hard to know for sure, you know.” He pulled the bandage away, leaning down to inspect the wound and make sure the stitches were still stuck tight. He was relieved to find that they were. “After our prior encounter, I can’t assume you to be wholly innocent, Letha,” he grinned.

Letha turned her face and met his eyes, alarmed to find just how close he was. His grin stayed stuck firm on his lips, his warm brown eyes fixed on hers, until, for just a split second, they dipped lower, to her lips–

She looked away, her heart racing. Surely not. Surely he was just being kind, thanking her in his own way for her efforts to protect his brother. There could be no other motive. She wouldn’t allow herself to consider the alternative.

“So shy,” he teased, returning to his full height, perusing the contents of the side table until he found what he was looking for.

“Or maybe you’re intimidating,” she shot back, stilling as his fingers returned to her skin, gently smoothing a fresh bandage over the wound, loaded with some sort of healing poultice. She felt her wound grow cold for once, instead of angry and hot. It relaxed her.

He got low again, his face near hers as he pressed the edges of the tacky cloth down on her skin as gently as he dared. “Do I intimidate you, Letha?”

She met his warm, suffocating eyes. He was in control, had her right where he wanted. Where she wanted. She couldn’t lie to herself. As much as it went against everything that brought her here, she couldn’t help the way he made her feel. It was so unlike the reaction she had to anyone else. She wasn’t supposed to like him, she was meant to hate him and his brother, but with every moment spent in their presence she just felt more and more at ease.

“Yes,” she admitted, her breathing unsteady, those snakes making themselves known again, swirling around inside.

She was a traitor. A traitor that let her eyes fall to his full, pink lips, watching as they parted slightly before he began to smile.

“Emperor Geta,” a soft, cloyingly sweet voice sounded from somewhere behind him.

Letha again turned away, sliding out from under his fingertips. She hurriedly pulled the strap of the dress back up over the wound, ignoring the stinging as she sought to get as far away from Geta as possible while she still could. The interruption served as a rogue wave, washing icy water over her, putting out the heat Geta had brought forth. Drawing her ire.

Something close to fury overtook Geta’s features. It wasn’t directed at Letha. He quieted it before turning around to find out who saw fit to disturb him in his chambers.

“Lyra, I did not send for you,” Geta spoke, seemingly surprised.

Letha wanted to leave the room, reminded of their relationship instantly as Lyra brightened under his gaze, despite his tone.

“I heard about what happened, I just wanted to check on you,” she smiled, ignoring all signs that she might have interrupted something. Letha thought it was probably intentional. She wasn’t stupid. Or blind. “There’s still time before dinner, so I thought…” She didn’t need to finish her sentence.

“Excuse me,” Letha finally spoke, wanting to be anywhere else than in the presence of the tall Emperor and his lover. She strode for the doorway Lyra had just passed through, trying to remember Geta’s directions as they walked the halls earlier.

“Leave me,” Geta ordered Lyra, a bit cold. Letha left the room before she could hear any more.

As she retraced their path back to where he said her rooms were, her face burned. Embarrassed, she pushed through the door quickly and fell back against it, forcing it shut.

“Fool,” she scolded. “Absolutely stupid, stupid.”

Her rational mind returned now that she wasn’t suffocated by Geta’s aura. She needed to get a grip on herself, fast. She couldn’t allow herself to get entangled with him. What would happen when he realized she was sent there with a purpose? That the man she’d killed had been paid by the man that owned her? It wouldn’t matter what she might feel for him. It would be her death. Even now she was descending into a well, every moment spent not killing the twins was another board being laid over top, hammered in harshly.

If she wasn’t going to kill the Emperors, she had to come up with a solution to Macrinus. If he knew she wasn’t going to complete her task, she would surely be top of his list to be murdered with all she knew of his plans. She was in more danger than she knew how to handle. Would the Emperors ever forgive her for her choices, for considering their deaths? She expected not.

[ Part VII ]

#emperor geta x ofc #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #gladiator 2 x reader #I like this one a lot #hope you do too #joseph quinn x reader

28 notes · View notes