#where she would just be like 'and now he's going to freeze response and have to reboot before we can continue this discussion'

[twirlyleafs]

Falling apart, together.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: part 2 to Falling apart, alone. Landos still struggling, but maybe he’s willing to accept the support?

TW: bad mental health

Notes: thank you so much for the response on the first part!! xx

~~~~

That night the house felt impossible quiet. P held you tightly for what felt like forever, her hands running soothingly up and down your back. The tension lingered in the air like an unwelcome guest. Max sat across from where you curled up against his girlfriend, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, face contorted in frustration. No one said anything for what felt like forever, each one of you too deep in your own spiraling minds, until the sound of movement in the kitchen cut through the silence. The following sound of the front door opening had all of you freeze, breaths caught in your throats. No one moved, not until the low rumble of the car engine filled the space. Your stomach sank as you heard the car pull out of the driveway, the sound growing fainter until it disappeared. With it Lando. You didn’t dare look up at P or Max, afraid that the emotions on their faces matched what you were feeling too. Pietra was the first to move, her grip on you loosening as she instead dragged her hand through your curls. Max sat stiffly, hands now clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

”Fuck.” Max muttered, voice thick. ”Fuck I- I should’ve stopped him. Should I have stopped him? From leaving?” At the anguish in his voice you lifted your head, pulling away slowly from Pietra. Max looked at you, searching for an answer, and you carefully shook your head.

“I don’t think that would’ve made it better.”

”If he wanted to leave he would’ve left anyway, maybe only more upset.” Pietra agreed and you nodded again. Max stared at the two of you for a moment before he nodded too. Once again silence settled between you. Eventually the weight of the evening became too much to bear and you forced yourselves to move, even though none of you really wanted. All of you paused in the hallway and Pietra wrapped you up in her arms, ensuring you everything would be okay, before she slipped into hers and Maxs shared bedroom. Max paused before following her, eyes lingering on you. Eventually he reached an arm out, snaking it over your shoulders and pulling you against his chest.

”We’ll get through to him. I promise.” The promise was nice but his voice was heavy with concern and guilt. ”I just, I’m glad I’m not alone this time. I’m glad he has you, too.”

The bed felt cold and almost foreign as you crawled in under the covers. The loneliness was bad on its own already but the faint trace of Landos scent on the pillow had your chest ache. Reaching for your phone you swallowed harshly, desperate to keep the pressing tears at bay to be able to see your screen clearly. You wrote out the text, hesitating for only a moment before hitting send. Seeing the text go through gave you a bit of relief and despite not expecting a response you at least knew you had done everything you could. After a final glance at the text you let out a deep breath, locking your phone before curling up on his pillow.

Be safe. I love you.

The night dragged on and with every passing moment you longed more and more for sleep, even though it felt very far away. You were alert, hearing the sound of the car coming back even before it pulled to a stop. Staying completely still, barely breathing, you listened to Lando opening and closing the front door. You curled tighter into yourself, straining to pick out every sound. He didn’t come upstairs right away, instead there was the faint creak of floorboards and the soft clink of something in the kitchen. Your mind started to race, what was he doing down there? Minutes dragged on, each one feeling longer than the other until suddenly, silence. The absence of sound made your chest tighten. Was he staying down there? You desperately wanted, needed, to see him. See that he was okay. But you were afraid you’d scare him away again if you went looking. Although, the thought of him sitting alone down with only his own mind as company had you want to cry again. Pressing your eyes shut you clutched the duvet. Just as you were starting to convince yourself that he wouldn’t come the softest creak of the bedroom door broke through the room. Your heart jumped, the lump in your throat growing, but you stayed completely still. You felt more than heard his movements, the mattress dipping gently under his weight as he sat down on the edge. Lando stayed there for a moment, sitting in complete silence as if he was preparing himself while you stayed with your back turned towards him. You knew he could tell you were awake but you didn’t dare say anything, involuntarily treating him like a scared animal. Finally he shifted, slipping in beneath the covers with careful and deliberate motions. Everything seemed to move in slowmotion and once again it felt like forever with nothing. Not a sound, not a move. Then suddenly you felt it. The softest touch of his fingertips against the back of your arm, so light you thought you might’ve imagined it if it wasn’t for the way your whole body shivered. The touch was tentative, making it clear he was just as scared as you were, but it was enough. It was an apology without words, a plea for comfort he couldn’t quite get out in words yet. You turned slowly, your gaze meeting his in the darkness. His eyes were red-rimmed, probably matching yours, and you could see the tension in his brows. Jaw. Shoulders. The vulnerability in his posture was unmistakable. Without another thought you reached out, carefully stroking a curl from his face. You could hear his breath hitch and for a few seconds you both stayed frozen until he finally let out a shaky breath. A moment later he was leaning in, his body curling against yours with a desperation that made your chest ache. Lando practically clung to you, and you did your best to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. Keeping him safe. Your fingers found their way into his hair, threading through the soft curls, and his grip on you only tightened. As if he was afraid you might pull away.

”I’m not going anywhere baby.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, muffled against his skin, and you felt his uneven breath against your neck. He didn’t cry, but the tremor in his exhales told you enough. This wasn’t the strong, playful and confident Lando you were used to. This was the part of him he rarely showed, the part that felt small and lost. The part that desperately wanted help but couldn’t ask for it. As you pressed your lips to his temple you felt him sink deeper into your embrace, body slowly relaxing at least a bit. You didn’t speak more, didn’t need to. Instead you just held him, offering the safety you knew he needed. Offering to remove some of the weight he constantly put on his own shoulders. You didn’t need to fix him, you just needed to promise him he wouldn’t have to face anything alone. Ever.

—————————

You stirred awake to the sunlight filtering in through the curtains, pressing your eyes shut tighter. You didn’t want to wake up, not yet, the exhaustion from yesterday still lingering. Instinctively you reached for him, fingers only finding the coldness off the empty mattress and immediately making your stomach sink. He was gone. Turning around you laid there for a while, staring at the empty slot next to you where Lando had been. He had, right? He had come home in the middle of the night, you couldn’t have imagined the way he clung to you. Right? You took your time getting up, dragging yourself through the routines of the morning before slowly making your way downstairs. When you entered the kitchen Pietra and Max were already there. P sat at the kitchen bar, nursing her coffee, while Max leaned against the counter. Both their heads snapped up to look at you, concern and curiosity clear on their faces.

”Did you see him?” Max cut straight to the chase, obviously having heard as Lando came back in the middle of the night too. You nodded softly, accepted the cup he offered you. Staring down into it you sighed.

”Yeah. I didn’t think he would come to bed but he did. He-” you paused, feeling almost bad for spilling your intimate moment with Lando but also knowing Max needed the reassurance. He deserved to know, needed to know Lando was if not doing better at least not pushing you away as harshly. ”He let me hold him. We didn’t talk but-” you trailed off when you met Maxs gaze, a mixture of relief and sadness.

”Good. That’s good.”

”He’s out running now. I met him on his way out.” Pietra explained. You nodded but didn’t respond, the words lodging somewhere in your throat. Despite the nights small victory yesterday’s tension lingered in the air, heavy and almost suffocating, and none of you said anything else after that. Together you filtered out on the back porch, breakfast plates in hand, and settled into the soft lounge furniture. The view was beautiful, sunlight spilling over the hills beyond the garden, the distant sound of birds chirping, the water in the small pond glistening. It all felt somehow muted though. You picked at your food, mostly pushing it around on your plate. P occasionally shot you a glance, her lips pressed into a thin line as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it. The second Max was finished with his breakfast he’d wandered down towards the pond, saying something about needing some time alone, and was now sprawled out on the grass letting the sun warm his body. You felt for him. He’d been through this before, although not as bad as now, and you could see the toll it took on him to constantly worry about Lando. He’d been his protector for years, since they were kids, and you couldn’t be more grateful for him always sticking around. You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t noticed the door sliding open, not realizing Lando was joining you until he slowly sank down in the couch opposite you. His hair was damp, probably fresh out of the shower, and curling in soft swirls over his forehead. You could tell he was nervous, uncomfortable, by the way he didn’t relax into the chair like he normally would. Instead his posture was stiff and uncertain as his eyes flickered between you and Pietra. P watched him for a moment before she stood.

”I’ll go and keep Max company.” Neither you nor Lando answered but you saw the way he tried to offer her a grateful smile when she passed him. P paused for just a second, letting her hand land on his shoulder before she disappeared down into the garden. The gesture was light, quick, but meaningful and you felt your heart swell at the sight. The warm feeling in your chest was brief, quickly replaced by a sense of worry again when Lando slowly met your gaze across the table. He shifted in his seat, fingers restlessly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. You didn’t push him. Finally he exhaled, voice quiet but clear as he spoke.

”I’m sorry.” You swallowed hard, letting the words settle between you before speaking up. Your own voice was soft, careful as not to frighten him.

”Do you want to talk about it?” He hesitated, fingers tightening around the fabric of his shorts as his eyes flickered away from your face for a moment. His jaw clenched and you almost feared he might retreat entirely, shutting down the conversation before it even began, but then he nodded.

”I don’t want to,” he admitted reluctantly. ”But I know I probably should.” You didn’t answer, giving him space to find his own words. He stared down at the coffee table for a moment, gaze distant, before he carefully began to speak again. ”It’s hard to explain, I guess. I feel like there’s this…pressure, all the time. Like I can’t stop, can’t slow down. If I do…” he trailed off, shaking his head is if he regretted his words. You shifted in your chair, letting your feet drop down on the floor so you could lean forward. Lando met your gaze again and you offered an encouraging nod. With a deep breath he continued. ”It’s, I guess it feels like I’m constantly running on a treadmill and no matter how fast I go it’s never enough. There’s always more to prove, more people to please, more to do. If I stop…” his voice cracked and he swallowed hard. ”If I stop everything will fall apart.” Your heart ached at the rawness of his confession, of the pain and fear on his face.

”You feel like you’re carrying everything on your own?” You offered gently, hoping to help him untangle his thoughts. Lando nodded slowly before shaking his head.

”Yeah, and I know that’s stupid because I know I have people…both at work and, you know. I have Max, mom and dad, you.” His voice softened at the last word, letting it linger for a moment. ”I know that but I can’t shake this feeling that I’m falling and that you can’t…” Once again he trailed of and you could tell he felt guilty, guilty for letting all off this spill. With a deep breath you pushed yourself up on your feet, Landos head immediately snapping up to watch you. For a second he looked scared, probably because he thought you were leaving, but then his face softened when you rounded the table to where he sat.

”Can I?” You asked quietly, nodding next to him in the couch. He nodded, trailing you as you sank down. When you reached out to lay a hand on his knee he quickly wrapped his own around it, squeezing it gently. Flipping your hand you let your fingers intertwine with his. ”Lando.” you began softly, watching him as he watched your hands. ”You don’t have to do this alone. I know it feels like everything is on you, and a lot is, but you don’t have to do it alone. We’re here for you, not to fix anything but to help you deal with it. Especially when it gets too much.” Lando let out a shaky breath, shoulders slumping.

”I don’t know how to let go. I don’t- I’m not good at asking for help. And I don’t want to bring you down with this stuff, it’s-”

”Lando that’s where you’re thinking wrong. You don’t bring me down, or any of us. We want to help, to support you. That’s what you do with people you love, you help each other and you’re there for each other.” Finally he lifted his head, eyes glassy and filled with a vulnerability you wished he showed more often.

”I just don’t know how.” His voice was thick with emotion.

”That’s okay. You’re trying, and that’s more than enough for now. One step at a time.” You leaned closer to him, lifting your free hand to stroke some curls away from his forehead, fingers trailing down his cheek. Lando stared at you for a while and you could see the turmoil behind his eyes, fear and anxiety mixing with the urge to let you in. Finally you saw something shift, his face softened and he forced himself to nod slowly. It was small, but it felt monumental. A few moments later Lando sat leaned back in the couch, arms wrapped around your frame as you curled up against his chest. The silence settled around you again but it wasn’t suffocating like earlier. Now it felt hopeful, like some sort of new start. Landos fingers found your arm, tracing soft, aimless patterns. For him the touch was grounding, a way to anchor himself even when his thoughts were scattered. For you it was a constant reminder that he was still here, not completely shutting you out. When you finally spoke your voice was soft, almost tentative, but with a firmness born out of both love and concern.

”You know Max isn’t angry with you.” His fingers seized their movements and you heart ached when you heard him inhale sharply. Tilting your head slightly you could see his jaw tensing, but he didn’t respond. ”But I still think you owe him an apology. Not for being upset but…” you trailed off as Lando began to nod.

”For what I said. I know.” He exhaled, shifting to sit straighter while also not pulling away completely. His voice was low and strained, filled to the brim with regret. ”I’ve been feeling awful about it since it happened. I didn’t- I didn’t mean it. The words just came out before I could stop them and I- fuck.”

”I know you didn’t mean it. So does Max. But it still hurt him.” When Lando only nodded, his arms slipping from you so he could lean forward with his elbows on his knees, you sighed softly. Leaning forward you gently rested your hand on his back and when he didn’t pull away you moved to lean your cheek against it too. ”It’s not about blaming yourself Lando, it’s just about making it right. Max loves you, he wants to be there for you, you just have to meet him halfway. Like you’re trying with me.” He stayed quiet for a moment but didn’t pull away as your hand traced patterns along his back. Finally he spoke, still shaky but with more determination.

”Okay. Yeah.” For a while he stayed still, collecting his thoughts, and then with a deep breath he stood. You let him go, watching as he trudged down across the garden toward where Max was stretched out on a towel. Your eyes stayed fixed on them as Lando stopped by Max, saying something you couldn’t hear, shoulders hunched in vulnerability as Max sat up. A beat later Max nodded and got to his feet, the two of them trudging further down the lawn towards the small pond together. You barely noticed P come and sit down next to you, only reacting when she spoke up.

”What’s going on?”

”Lando is apologizing.” She just hummed, shuffling closer to you until your arms were touching. Then you just sat there, observing the two men by the pond. Lando’s head was slightly bowed, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, while Max stood with his arms crossed, listening intently. The conversation stretched on, and you could see the emotions flowing between them, the occasional nods, the way Max shifted his weight thoughtfully. Then, sudden enough for you to inhale sharply, Max reached out to grasp Lando’s shoulder firmly. A moment later Max pulled him into a hug and you thought you might start crying again as you watched Lando cling to his best friend. You tore your gaze away from them when you heard P sniff beside you, turning to look at her.

”They’ll be okay. We all will be.” She offered softly and for the first time in a while you felt relief flood your body. Nodding you felt your lips curl into the first real smile since before all of this.

”Yeah. We will.”

[wouthmashing]

Anya's interest in psychology (books in her office) makes me wonder if maybe she's one of those people who's uncannily perceptive and able to predict behavior well. Having a lot of foresight on the Tulpar would feel pretty hopeless and lonely, I think.

[fireheartpages]

terrible idea | b.d.

bodhi durran x reader one. part two. three. four. five. summary: everyone has their demons, you just chose to run from yours. straight to basgiath war college. and definitely not towards the grinning tall, dark, and handsome marked rider that seemed too kind to be in a hardened place like the rider's quadrant. leave it to you to catch his attention word count: almost 2.5k notes: second person pov with she/her pronouns. reader has a last name and a dirty dancing esque nickname. questionable geographic knowledge of the continent and use of modern fairy tales & fables for metaphors and allegories. if rebecca yarros can put her chronic illness in her story so can i. enjoy the second part of whatever my brain has been brewing for the past few days! there will be two ish more parts :DD half of this was written while wine tipsy and all of it was proofread while wine drunk and very sleepy, so we die like men

You take a deep breath in, and push it out, suppressing a shiver. It was cold in September. What the hell.

Being from the coast of Tyrrendor means you thought you were prepared for cold weather. The coast is cold. It's always windy. You would go swimming in cold water. And then you came to Morraine in the fall. Fuck, it was cold. It made everything hurt.

You ball your hands into fists, ignoring the way the skin on your hands protests. The Gauntlet seems to taunt you as you stare up at it, like a looming, overbearing giant ready to knock you down the minute you try to climb the beanstalk. You and Violet have been the only ones not to complete the course thus far.

She came up next to you, handing you a healing slave that you accept gratefully. You tug off the gloves, smothering the place where your palm met the knuckle in it. It makes the joint pain a bit more bearable, but you're still trying to find something that relieved the dry, cracked, and flaking skin there, or the welts that materialize and wake you up with how badly they hurt.

The freezing cold wind and rain in September certainly doesn't help. Fucking Morraine weather. Why does the north have to be so cold?

You slip the black leather back over your hands, fastening your gloved as tight as they could go to avoid slipping and handed the salve back to Violet.

"It's not as windy today," she remarks.

"I don't think wind is our biggest operative here," you say in response, and she laughs.

She nods at you, a twinkle in her eye telling you she has a new plan. She murmurs something under her breath before turning her attention to the hall that leads to the course, and you wipe the gloves against the flight leathers you'd donned that morning, as if that would rough up the palms and keep you from slipping.

It happened every time. Anything balance or footwork related was easy. In fact, you were the fastest in most areas, by a long shot. Impressively fast on the granite columns and rotating timbers, but you struggle with the iron rails. Sometimes, if you picked out the wrong gloves, you would slip right off. You were lucky your reflexes were fast, able to wrap a rope around your hand until you could tug a glove off. You ended nearly every session with rope burns cracking the skin of your hands.

Someone brushes past you, and as you turn to see who they were, Ridoc invades your space, his hands cupping your shoulders. He spins you back around, and shoves you another step down the hallway.

"Stop being nervous. You've got this."

"I haven't made it all the way up once," you remark, brow furrowing.

"Violet's gonna do it," he said firmly, casting a glance back to where her and Dain are having a heated conversation in whispers.

"She is, and so are you," Rhiannon chimes in. "We all are. It's going to be fine."

"The Gauntlet isn't even the hardest part about today," Sawyer grumbles, and all three of you shoot him a look. He shrugs. "I'm just saying."

The light is growing bigger now at the end of the hallway, and you're about to take up positions to start. Dain is gone, leaving Violet sucking down deep breaths behind you. And you feel like you're going to crawl out of your own skin.

"Ridoc," You say, spinning towards him. "I need a favor."

"Yeah?"

"Let me climb you."

Ridoc lets out a surprised laugh that's more akin to a yelp. "If you wanna take me to bed, Baby, all you had to do was ask. I just don't think this is the best place to--"

"Put your arm up," you snap. "I need to check the traction on these gloves. I think it's why I can't get past the rails, or the chimney."

Ridoc does as he's asked, and you jump up, grabbing for his arm. You grunt as your hand slides right off, and he wraps an arm around you to keep you from tipping both of you over. Frustrated, you rip the gloves off, wiping the salve off on your pants. Sawyer extends a handkerchief.

This is a terrible idea.

"Professor," you saw, as the rest of your squad files onto the landing. "Can I go last?"

Emetterio looks at you like you've grown a second head, bushy dark brows raising, but he relents. "Sure."

You nod, staring at the line of cadets in front of you, slotting into the back behind Tynan and Luca. Make sure your squad gets up all the way. You don't care if anyone else slips on the leftover lotion on your hands.

Because after Violet makes it up both the chimney and the vertical incline, you dare to let yourself hope. And then the last two are down, and then it's your turn.

This is a terrible idea.

The buoy balls had given you grief before, but with the amount of adrenaline in your body, you danced across them like the columns and timbers and logs. It was easy, and then you were standing in front of the iron rails. You were going to die--

An idea comes to you, and it takes half a second before you decide it's worth the time you waste. You rip the gloves from your pocket, knotting the fingers together, and hold them to each hand, gripping the rail.

You palm the rail as you swing your body across, using the traction of the iron and your skin to hand on, while the leather guards your skin from the ramifications. The sky is darkening, and you can tell it's about to rain, making you hurry along, one hand at a time, adjusting the grip of the gloved underneath your hands. Being able to use your nails to dig into the gloves, and the tension of the gloves to support your weight. You're maybe three feet from the edge before you feel it--a stitch snaps, and the leather begins to wrap.

You slip. It's an incremental fall, but it's there, and it jacks up your heart rate. It makes your palms sweat. It makes you lose your grip on the gloves.

You lose one hand, and scramble to grab the glove again as the other hand slips.

"Swing!" It's Violet's voice. She sounds frantic. "Swing yourself over. You're close!"

The distance between you and the edge looks insurmountable right now. But you listen. And you swing.

And Violet was right. You were closer than you'd thought, and you land on the edge.

You make it up the rest of the course without an issue.

"Holy shit," Violet breathes as you scramble onto the landing. "Your hands."

Holy shit. Your hands is right.

"I thought mine were bad." She rips free a piece of your shirt and goes to soak up the blood coating your hands, and you immediately yelp when the fabric makes contact.

"I'm sorry!" Violet gasps. "I'm sorry--"

"No," you insist. "It was bad before I went--"

"Put your gloves on."

The voice sends a shiver down your spine.

You turn and--it's him. Bodhi. You freeze, reset, check functions--

"What did you just say to me?"

"Put your gloves back on," Bodhi says, and his voice holds and urgency you make a note not to underplay, on that has you obeying without protest.

Not without question, though. "Why?"

"You're about to walk in front of a shit ton of dragons that have no loyalty to you. And you have a gaping, open wound that was troubling you even before it was inflicted." His eyes are soft, even with his harsh words.

Right. Weakness.

You wince as you slide on each glove, holding his gaze. "No more leaking," you say, holding your hands up.

Presentation passes in a flurry, and it's as you're walking through the quad later that you spin around at the sound of your name being called. You're tired, the adrenaline having drained out of your body until you're left a shell of energy--okay with the idea of somthing, less inclined to be able to follow through.

You'd made it through presentation, though. Not all of you had, but your friends had. That had to count for something. A Green had taken an interest in you, as well as a Blue. You had a preference for the Greens--you wanted a sharp mind--but the blue had looked at you with such keen eyes.

All of this to say you'd even be chosen. It was all up in the air at this point.

Bodhi--the boy from the challenge, and from the Gauntlet-- is jogging up to you. He has something in his hand, and you furrow your brow. You were making your way back from the infirmary, the healers not bothering to do much with your hands. The skin would never heal completely, anyway.

"Hi," Bodhi says, and you can't help but crack a smile.

"Hi," you say in return.

"Hi," he says again, and then shakes his head. "Your hands. Are they okay?"

"Oh," you say, honestly taken aback. Smart. Okay. You can do better than this, he's just a boy--

"Here," he says, extending something to you.

"Oh, no," you say. Okay. Maybe try for multiple syllables this time. "Please don't." Or not.

The way his face falls is comparable to buildings crumbling. To cities being leveled. It was Rome after Nero.

This is a terrible idea.

"It's not joint pain," you say quickly. "I mean, it is, but it's mostly my skin. It splits and gets really dry. That's why it hurts and bleeds."

"I figured," Bodhi says, with equal enthusiasm. "The blood, I--"

He takes a sharp, deep, and sudden breath, gaze meeting yours with an intensity that makes you falter. He opens the salve, and a soft, oaty scent floats to you. It's unlike the cool mint of Violet's salve. It's a balm, a lotion.

"You didn't use the ropes. I was watching your squad, and Violet did, which is why her hands were bleeding. But you didn't. And you wear the gloves all the time, so I just kind of figured..."

You swallow past the tightness in your throat. He motions to the bench next to you, underneath the wilting tree, and a few leaves make for their descent as you sit, side by side.

"Xaden mentioned something about Violet's salve, and I've seen you flinch when you put it on before," he says, eyes on the little round tin, and you're suddenly hit with the fact that this man has paid any attention to you.

"It's for joint pain," you explain. "Which can help, but the skin is my issue. When it's cold, or wet, or too dry, or I touch something--kind of all the time, but it gets worse with certain triggers. And the cold is one, and it is so much colder here than home."

Bodhi offers you the balm. "Where's home?"

"Tyrrandor."

He sucks in a breath.

"Near Lewellen. About as far south as you can go. Warm," you laugh. "Much warmer than anywhere in Morraine."

"I can imagine," Bodhi says, and he grins at you, and your world stops moving with the force of his focus on you. You were entranced. Holy shit, he was gorgeous. "Is that where your balance comes from?"

"I'd think so," you say. "We surf a lot down there. and I took dance classes as a kid. Well, before my mom died, so not too many--"

Idiot. Fuck, here's a marked one, a rebellion kid, and you're trying to talk about your damn mom--

'It's okay," Bodhi says. "You don't have to mince your words with me."

You nod. "My mom was apart of the rebellion."

You feel his gaze as it scans you from top to bottom. A question there--why you were from Lewellen, and not Aretia, and where your Mark was. The Mark you deserved, that he would never find.

"I'm not marked," you explain. "My dad ran off with me, basically, mid-rebellion. I never saw her again, only read her name on a death roll once I was enrolled here."

"So, he..."

"Was against the rebellion. Yes."

"And you..."

"Are. Not. No, I--" You suck down a deep breath, shifting where you sat, and trying to ignore the way his gaze bore into you. "I came to get away from him. I came to... see the death roll."

You hear a sharp breath in from beside you.

"I had to know for sure," you say quickly. "This was about the only place I could find out. And my town, after the rebellion, they would sponsor you, send you to school, but only if you were enlisted in the Rider's Quadrant."

Bodhi nods, averting his gaze and seeming to chew on the information you had given him.

"I did what I needed to. And I'm here. If i can survive Threshing, I might jut make it out." You smile at him, but he doesn't return it. Instead, the furrow in his bow only deepens. "That's the idea, at least."

"So, you didn't want to be a rider?" Bodhi asks.

"Gods, no," you say, under your breath, like it's a swear. "Surviving is a gift. And I won' take it for granted. But I'm fighting to do so."

"And your hands--"

"Kind of wounds that never heal, yeah." You turn them palm-up, staring down at them and wondering how you two had gotten so off track. "They're worse up here. The cold, I think, and the gloves make it hurt less upon contact, but I think it makes the skin worse when I take them off." You shake your head. "Some dragon rider I'll be, when I can't use my hands to do anything. If I had known how bad they would be up here, I would have gone to the Scribes or something, at least."

"Here." He extends the open tin, the soft smell of the balm wafting up to you, and something in your chest stirs. "I figured it was a skin thing, so this may help. I know a healer."

"You do?"

"Yeah!" he nearly chirps the word out. "She and her girlfriend helped make it for me."

"Oh," you say, swallowing. "That's really kind. Of all three of you. Thank you."

"Of course." Ne nods. "And for the record, you're going to make an amazing dragon rider."

It looks like it caused him pain to stand up, as his hands curled into fists. You knew the feeling well.

"I'll see you," he says.

"Yes," you return. "I will see you."

He walks away, and you watch him go, attempting to puzzle out where that had come from.

And just what it had cost him to make this balm.

[evanhereonearth]

The Insidious Cycle of the Abuser Who Says They Love You: Mythal and Solas

Likely goes without saying, but Veilguard spoilers all under the jump.

I have been absolutely wrecked by the end scenes in Veilguard for weeks now, and I want to do a deep dive into Solas's relationship with Mythal and how it absolutely reeks of abuse. Long post incoming!

CW for heavy discussion of cycles of abuse, trauma response, and abuse tactics.

When I finished my first playthrough, this moment hit me like an absolute freight train. His visceral response to her presence and the way he instinctively retreats and flinches back/puts out a hand to protect himself is a full-blown trauma response.

And then she starts talking and moving towards him, and it gets worse.

Solas curls in on himself; his body goes even further into self-protection mode. His face is downcast, not the way he bowed to his vhenan moments before with a straight back and open posture, but shrinking.

And then as she advances, he cowers.

He completely folds inward. He crumples; he shakes, he hyperventilates, and the moment she reaches for him, he fumblingly offers her the lyrium dagger to kill him with.

Is this shame? Yes, of course, but it's far, far more than that.

For the sake of brevity, I'm going to limit this list to the four most widely recognised trauma responses:

Fight

Flight

Freeze

Fawn

As someone whose primary trauma response is fawn (wooo CPTSD), which is intensely common among people who experience complex trauma, especially through emotional and prolonged physical/mental abuse where their needs are discarded, pushed aside, or otherwise steamrolled, I felt this right alongside Solas. My own body responded to seeing it. This is, quite frankly, one of the most visceral and realistic (and extreme) fawn responses I've seen depicted in media.

Mythal in this scene is...phew, something else.

"She was the best of them," Solas tells us in Trespasser.

But she was not good, everything tells us in Veilguard.

Let's look at his regrets in chronological order.

Through Solas's memories of regret, we see this germinate in his foundational regret: leaving the Fade to take a physical form.

He does not want to do this. He tells her he does not want to do this. From the conversation, it's clear it's not the first time she's asked.

And the way she asks? Outright coercion.

"You have so long observed the world. Why not consider joining it?" [I want you to do this thing, so I will frame it as logical for you to make the choice I want you to make.]

"But I have no desire to live as humans. Besides, this talk of taking on a solid form. I think you underestimate the danger." [I don't want to do that. It does not feel safe to me.] "When you took the glowing stone to build your body, did the earth not shake?" [This is dangerous and selfish.]

"The lyrium gives us the strength we had when we were of the Fade; we are the best of both physical and Fade." [It makes us powerful, so I don't care about the risks.] "I need your wisdom, Solas, to withstand the louder voices like Elgar'nan's who would go too far." [If you do not come with me, a tyrant you abhor will make others suffer.] "I need you."

"This is madness. You must know that." [I don't want to do this at all. This will hurt me. I don't want this.] "I will always follow where you go." [Because I love you and trust you.]

Mythal's words in this part are classic abusive framing. When appealing to his natural curiosity does not work and he expresses strong rejection of her logical thought process (just because I have observed this place does not mean I want to go there, echoing his comments to the Inquisitor in DAI: "Many Orlesian peasants dream of travelling to exotic Rivain. But not everyone wants to go to Rivain!") and expresses that there is significant danger to continue to build bodies out of lyrium, she changes tactics.

Her second tactic is that it gives them power--she implies that he is limited and not enough for being only of the Fade. If he follows her, he will be the best of both, like she is. She clearly already sees herself as above him.

Her third tactic is pure emotional blackmail: "I need you. I will give in to the tyrants without your wisdom, and having your counsel in the Fade is not enough. If you don't go against your own nature and desires, people will suffer...and it will be your fault for not being by my side."

She doesn't say those things outright, but they are implied by everything she is saying. He says again he doesn't want it--that it is madness and that she must be aware of that despite her ignoring any suggestion that she actually is. All she is seeing is power and her desires: for Solas to do what she wants him to do.

So he agrees. Because she is his friend, and she says she needs him.

As far as core wounds go, this one is a doozy. It's absolutely brutal, because it's irrevocable. It's a point of no return. It's the first in what will become millennia of regret, of her ignoring the Wisdom she coerced out of the Fade to do what she wants regardless, to continue to push him to twist his nature under the guise of the greater good, to continue to cede to Elgar'nan and enable the very tyrants she promised him to balance.

This regret was deeply painful for me to watch. The nuance here is easily lost if people don't understand abuse tactics and how this sort of manipulation is used. It also serves to bind Solas to Mythal, an enormous sunk cost fallacy in the making--once he has made this choice, there is no going back.

And you see Solas curled in on himself in anguish and regret from the trauma of taking a physical form. It is in deep, painful contrast to his open, free wingspan as a spirit of Wisdom; he will never be the same.

"Have you created what we need?" From the outset Mythal is framing this as his idea as much as hers, when from everything he says, that is not true.

"With this, the proper ritual will sunder every Titan from its spirit. But you must know, those severed dreams will certainly be driven mad, a disembodied blight of pain and anger. It--is--awful what we are doing."

"And the only way to end this war."

Again, Solas offers the wisdom she claimed she took him from the Fade to listen to. He warns her, again, of the danger. He does not want to do this. Just like he warned her of the earth quaking when they made their bodies--they, the Evanuris, started this war by taking what they wanted regardless of who it hurt. He never wanted to participate in it, but now he is in the middle of that war. Mythal was one of the initial perpetrators of this war; she brought Solas into it against his will because he loved her, and now he's stuck. He is past his point of no return. And she is still using his heart against him. She has isolated him from everyone he knew in the Fade; he has no one to support him. He. Only. Has. Her.

This is another classic abuse tactic; if the person being abused has no one else, they will continue to enable that abuse even if it harms others, because they cannot see a way out. If you don't do what I say, it will destroy our children, our family. If you don't do what I say, this war will consume all you have, and you no longer have a home to return to. If you don't do what I say and hurt yourself and the Other, more will suffer, and it will be your fault.

Again, his posture, curled up and broken, appearing to cradle a now-tranquil Titan beneath him--and be embraced in return. This is an interesting artistic choice here, one that aches. It speaks to the depth of his own wound and how much it rent his own spirit to follow through with Mythal's wants here; that it sundered him from his spirit as much as it did the Titans.

"You cannot do this, Elgar'nan! You swore we would give up our commands when this war was over!"

"Our people need our leadership. If you are unwilling, leave."

From Elgar'nan, this is expected. From Mythal?

"Our people must rebuild. And we must help unite them."

Solas, once again, betrayed. He put his trust in Mythal and in the other Evanuris to follow through with their promise. Everything he has done thus far is poisoned in this moment; had the Evanuris indeed stepped back rather than stepped on necks, perhaps Solas could have healed, found a way to live with what he had done, maybe even to make amends. But this starts his war anew--and Mythal is standing with his enemy despite her promises, despite every wheedling word she's used to get what she wants from him over the centuries and longer, despite him turning from everything, everything, he loved to love her. This is the moment where he understands that he has only been a tool to her all along.

"So we did not fight for freedom, but to conquer this land and our own."

Let's pick apart Solas's words.

So we did not fight for freedom: He truly believed that he was fighting for freedom, that no matter how bad it got, that he could bear it for freedom.

But to conquer this land: Literally the land, I think, because of the Titans. To subdue them at all costs. This was not what he came for, but he believed Mythal.

And our own: Our own, our people, more spirits we gave bodies for this war, more who may not have wanted to leave the Fade. Our own, our people. To Solas, he is one of them. In this moment, he realises how much Mythal holds herself above all of them.

Elgar'nan's words are all too telling: "We fought to win. And now the Evanuris are as gods. I do not answer to Mythal's annoying lapdog."

They all--all--see him thus. As her pet.

Because he is. She has, until now, controlled him utterly with her manipulation and "need" for him.

"The people are afraid. They must believe in something." Mythal does not even stand up for Solas here; she does not reject Elgar'nan's perception of him. All she does is further distance herself.

The people are afraid: The Evanuris made them. They are as controlled as Solas and more.

Elgar'nan asserts, "They need strength."

"And wisdom." Mythal has the absolute gall to attribute this to herself, when Solas is the source of the wisdom she "needed" for so long. (Belated addition: And another level here: she may also be saying again that she needs him, but doing so in a way that doesn't require her to stand up for him directly. Honestly, fucking gross.)

"They need gods who can protect them," Elgar'nan continues.

"We are not gods. You will learn that." Solas's voice here is pure defeat. The scales are falling from his eyes.

"Every lapdog holds a wolf inside," says Elgar'nan.

Solas knows that Elgar'nan's "protection" is hollow, based on subjugation. And I think in this moment, he learns that Mythal's is based only in her belief that she is better than those beneath her, who cannot possibly handle themselves.

So her lapdog becomes the Wolf.

"I was not certain you would come."

Solas's opening words in this regret show the distance between them already and how much he has realised he does not know this woman who called herself his friend.

And her response is to instantly blame him.

"You are the one who walked away. I never turn my back when my friend needs me."

In putting this post together, this line absolutely sucker punched me. I've watched these several times already, but the absolute audacity to blame him for standing up for his principles for the first time against all her manipulation? Hoo.

She blames him for doing just that, "turning his back when his friend needed him." She needed her enabler, and when he stopped, she turned bitter. Just like any abuser.

That he goes straight into "The Evanuris seek the magic of the Blight" instead of engaging, honestly shows that he's still Wisdom. That is one battle that is unwinnable, trying to stand up against an abuser's bullshit like that.

"Impossible," she says. "The Blight is safely sealed away forever."

Gaslight, girl boss, gatekeep.

"Though I wish I could believe you." [You have lied to me so many times.] "I have sensed the breaking of the wards."

And her answer is patronising. "I will investigate your claims." [I don't believe you.] "If they forget the danger of the Blight, I will endeavour to remind them."

Solas knows this is futile. "What if, instead, you left the Evanuris and remained with me? Do you not wish for freedom from this struggle?"

He asks her, again, to veer from the dangerous path. He desperately wants to believe he was not completely wrong about her, I think. If she were to leave, he could heal somewhat, for not having so thoroughly misjudged her character.

Am I enough for you? Was I ever enough? is the unspoken question here when he asks if she will remain with him.

And in return, he gets back even more patronising bullshit and hubris. "Be at peace, love. I will stop them."

(Can you tell Mythal pisses me off?)

She calls him love. What an unbearable insult after everything, to go on telling him she cares for him whilst ignoring his wisdom--the very wisdom she coerced him into leaving the Fade so she would have by her side--and consolidating her own power at the expense of his people.

"As you must," he says. "The Blight is our mistake."

Might be unpopular, but I do not think Solas bears a split fifty-fifty custody for whose fault the Blight is. Could he have said no about the dagger? Could he have pushed then? Maybe. But by this point, he'd already had probable millennia of complex trauma and a deeply abusive codependent relationship, probably also a level of magical bond. Like, sorry, Trick and BioWare, if you want to retcon everything you shared with us in Inquisition about being in service to the Evanuris ("You have given yourself into the service of an ancient elven god! You are Mythal's creature now. Everything you do, whether you know it or not, will be for her.") AND Mythal casually overriding her servants' will and Solas burning her vallaslin off his face and leaving a scar and devoting himself to freeing the elven people from the Evanuris's domination, fine, but I don't buy it. Even if there was no magical compulsion on him all this time, that is immaterial.

Complex trauma literally rewires the brain to survive. She spent lifetimes programming him, isolating him, stripping from him every bit of agency he had. This man did not have the capacity to say no.

When our no is trampled even for a few months or years, we stop trying to use it. We comply. We, as mortal humans, cannot begin to comprehend the compounded trauma of millennia of this happening with the stakes of worlds in the balance. Solas, quite simply, has lost the entire ability to consent. No one of us can even imagine.

Yet he managed to walk away from her somehow, when she chose Elgar'nan. This man is stronger than anyone gives him credit for.

The dagger was clearly Mythal's idea. The plan to sever the Titans from their dreams, clearly her idea. To end the war. For there to be "peace". For there to be "freedom". Except that never came.

His loyalty was to her and to their people; hers was only ever to herself.

And again, she walks away and lets Solas suffer.

What a good friend.

[screaming from the general direction of Scotland]

She put her trust in monsters instead of her oldest friend, and the monsters ate her face.

Anyone surprised? I'm surprised. (I'm not surprised.)

And on top of this, Mythal finally, finally giving Solas one tiny breadcrumb that she had any principles remaining? I think that cemented his bindings to her forever. Not just that the Evanuris killed her, but why they killed her: because after millennia, she listened to him.

For someone that deep into trauma and abuse? Well. We know what happened.

It cannot be overstated that with his imprisonment of the Evanuris and the Blight, Solas saved the entire world. The entire world. Every living being in Thedas had a chance at life because of him. Only because of him.

Morrigan says it early on in the game, that for all the consequences of the veil (which, it also must be said, was not supposed to be global!), "his imprisonment of the Evanuris was just. Had he not done so, all of Thedas would have fallen to the Blight."

And the world has hated him for it.

He woke after sleeping for millennia, exhausted by this immense act of magic, to discover that not only had it gone horribly wrong, but that it had cost his people everything. That Tevinter had come in and enslaved them, released a trickle of the Blight after breaking into the Black City, used so much blood magic that the veil itself all over Thedas has been in tatters--not least because in releasing the Blight, the survivors had had to face down and kill the dragon thralls (archdemons) of the Evanuris, rendering five out of seven of them mortal, and with their deaths over the intervening centuries, the veil had grown threadbare with only two Evanuris sustaining it.

The risks were catastrophic, the price unbearable.

Everything he'd ever done to protect the world could still come crashing down...and in a sick twist of fate, he would be alive to see it.

And, shockingly, so would Mythal.

Mythal, whose fragment has just been chilling in a swamp for centuries in human form. Mythal, whose abuse of him lasted through the entirety of the world's history. Mythal, who, due to the Evanuris's betrayal and her abusee's abandonment, has become little more than retribution.

Mythal, who could have set him free at any point in all this time and didn't, because he was hers.

Mythal, who is the only remaining person with the power to do what he feels must be done.

I find it interesting that they chose not to use the post-Inquisition dialogue at all. Interesting also that they used Mythal's voice actor and not Flemeth's. This feels like a retcon, but we'll go with it. Whatevs.

"I knew that you would find me soon enough. You need the power of a god, the strength that I alone still carry."

She's still asserting her own godhood.

He's not having it. "The blighted Evanuris will soon break free from their prison. I must make a stronger one that can contain them."

He's not wrong. Not even a little bit wrong. And he's also right that she won't help him. Why would she? She never has.

"While the prison is important, it is not the only goal you seek."

"Why should I not tear down the veil? And bring back immortality to all the elven people? They deserve it."

And this is where I get even more raging, because Mythal's answer is this: "The elven people of today do not deserve to see the world they love torn apart to salve your conscience."

I'm sorry, what?

The world they love? The world that has offered them nowt but literal genocide for thousands of years? The world where in Tevinter, they're chattel slaves and worse, fuel for blood magic without a thought? The world where in the "civilised", slaveless nations to the south, they're either confined to alienages and subjected to repeated genocide (that's what a "purge" is, if anyone isn't clear on that) or the remnants of the Dales, who are the descendents of another enormous genocide? The world where elven magic has been pillaged but elven mages in human settlements are confined to Circles and abused or made tranquil or also genocided by Templars invoking the Rite of Annulment? The world where they're called "elf savage" and "rabbit" and "knife ear" and cannot participate in Thedosian religious life because the Chantry erases every instance of elves from even the Chant of Light? The world where it took the Inquisitor installing a perpetrator of genocide on the Orlesian throne (both Celene AND Gaspard fit this bill) and either having Celene reconcile with Briala (Briala and Celene's relationship could be a whole other post. Boak.) and blackmailing them to give a single elf lands and a title? That world????

What the fuck, Mythal, die faster.

I got real mad there for a second. I'm fine. I'm fine!

Solas, once more, simply says, "I must fix what I have broken. I am sorry."

More than she deserves, frankly. Man's a mess, but at least he tries. She's been chilling in a swamp and pulling puppet strings for ages and abusing her kids. Nudging history like it's some sort of hobby, because it has always just been pieces on a board to her. They have never been people in her eyes like they are in his.

"As am I, old friend."

Aye, get tae fuck. Friends don't treat friends the way you treated Solas. The closest thing to an apology Solas will ever get from her is that she pretty much just lies down and dies when he comes to kill her. And she still won't set him free before he does. Has to continue to twist her own knife.

This scene has me riled.

And this takes us back to the beginning of this post.

To her essence showing up to release him from her service.

In what is, to me, the least accountable, bare minimum non-apology (she never actually says she's sorry) I've had the displeasure to witness in a videogame, with Solas literally cowering before her and offering her a knife to kill him with since this is the first time he's seen her actual, non-Flemythal face since she died.

This was never a friendship of equals. Ever.

She got one thing right. She did break him. But she knew it all this time, and she never took a single step to put it right until pushed. Her corner of the Crossroads, which he built for her in the desperate hope that she would show a glimmer of the friend he believed she was, notably has a pair of wolf statues. Both beheaded.

She's spent all this time punishing him further.

He never went to visit her? I wouldn't either. I could not blame him.

This has gone to an angry place. So let's conclude with what is, I think, the entire point.

Grace.

"I lied. I betrayed you."

"I forgive you."

Has anyone--anyone--in all his long life, ever said those words to him?

I'll say that again: has anyone--ANYONE--in all his millennia of existence, EVER said those words to him?

I forgive you.

Mythal certainly didn't.

The world certainly didn't.

He has shouldered all the blame of an entire pantheon, a war that broke the world, a blight, everything, always, and while people have come alongside him to help him, I am not sure anyone (certainly not anyone he cares about) has given him the grace of forgiveness.

The beauty of this final scene for me wasn't just Ilaana, wasn't just Ilaana reuniting with the man she has loved for a decade who has spent all that time pushing her away so he couldn't--in his mind--inevitably poison the love of the only person who has seen his spirit and cherished it without twisting him.

It was the slow realisation that Rook trusted his love enough to try.

It was Morrigan, who carries all Mythal's memories and her own of Flemythal's abuse and machinations, who responds to Rook's question about her views of Solas with: "Or do you mean to discover if I would stand directly against the Dread Wolf, were there a need? I shall aid you in any way but that. What has passed between Solas and Mythal...I beg you: do not ask this of me again."

Morrigan knows. She will not raise a hand against him. She will not try to stop him. She will let the veil fall. She will not fight with Rook. Because she knows this being whose memories she holds has harmed him enough.

Solas, in these final moments, even before Mythal shows up to gut punch him, realises all these people have somehow, somehow, banded together to help him.

Not work for him.

Not be his agents.

Not worship him.

Not follow him blindly.

To help him. To help Solas. To help him, after all this time, take the first steps towards himself. Towards his own essence, so long twisted into something he never sought or wanted.

The Inquisitor and Morrigan certainly understand what it's like to be seen only as the symbol others raise in your image. Rook will learn that someday, but is still naive.

But even with that naivete, willing. Present. Able to put aside being a chess piece on his board. Able to see that they would never have succeeded without his help. Able to trust two people who know him better than they ever will.

Able to offer him grace.

And when they produce Mythal's essence, how that must brutalise him; to think that perhaps all this has been to let his abuser kill him back. He clearly thinks that's what's happening. He breaks. He fawns. He offers her the blade that has caused so much pain.

Her release of him is the bare minimum she owes him. I've already railed about that.

What is transcendent here, transformative--it is the mortals.

The mortals offering grace to a god who never wanted to be a god.

It's them together showing him a way out of an endless cycle of trauma and abuse. No one of them alone is enough. Without Rook, they wouldn't have Mythal's essence; Morrigan can't go get it, and she can't do what is needed because she's not actually Mythal, only has her memories. Without Morrigan, who can stand there with those memories but from the compassionate perspective of someone who has watched them in horror from the outside. She's far from objective, but she can do this one thing to help.

Without the Inquisitor (romanced or not, still someone he let know him as he most desperately wanted to be known--the Fade-walker, the Dreamer, the humble mage who desperately needed a friend). The Inquisitor, who kneels before him to comfort him. Who sees his hurt and responds.

If romanced, without Lavellan, who kneels to repeat back words he once shouted at the Nightmare in the Fade after Adamant.

"Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ema mar din." (Speak, traitor. Your victory was fruitless. Your pride gives way only to your death.)

To which Solas replied, "Banal nadas."

On the surface, nothing is inevitable, but can also be taken to mean that nothingness is inevitable, entropy, the final void. (Thanks to Dumped, Drunk, and Dalish for this excellent long post on this scene.)

And here is Lavellan, kneeling beside him with those words. "Banal nadas ar lath, ma vhenan."

Nothing is inevitable but the love we share, my heart.

I see everything you are, all you have done, and I love you. I forgive you for the pain you have caused me. I understand, see, and forgive.

No one has ever shown him grace like this.

Ever.

And Solas, this shattered man, sobs.

He sobs.

Someone has taken the trouble to isolate his voice in the video. This man has nothing left. And, after millennia of this trauma cycle repeating over and over, he is finally free to make the choice he wants to make. It's not the outcome he wants; that has to be said. He doesn't want to leave the veil up. He doesn't want to be bound into prison forever with no hope of seeing the world he fought for ever return.

But he is done.

In the Fade after Adamant, there is a cemetery with the worst fears of every companion scriven on shrines and stones. Solas's is dying alone.

After all of this, he is willing to face just that--and would, if not for her.

She knows his deepest fears. She has faced the demon Mythal made of the man she loves. She has given unwitting comfort to the spirit of Wisdom still within. She has seen his sweetest self. Nurtured him, cherished him, and has been nurtured and cherished in return.

Does she want to leave the world behind and spend eternity in a Fade prison? Probably not her first choice. It's not my Ilaana's; she has been on his side all this time, dreaming of a world where the spirits she loves can be reunited with the world in peace and ready to make that happen.

But it was not supposed to happen this way. It did happen this way anyway.

He has sacrificed everything--everything--including his own spirit self, his soul, his life. How could she not offer him what no one ever has? A friend forever, a lover willing to walk the din'an shiral by his side, a companion to ward off the forever alone.

Together, the two of them can begin to heal, with their counterpart who has always seen through the burdens of the world to the soul within.

This is the only thing I've ever had any faith in. Grace I know you carry us Grace And it was such a mess Grace I don't say it enough Grace You are so loved

[moonstruckme]

Hi, I absolutely love your writing and i’d thought i’d try to request a remus lupin x reader kinda hurt comfort fic or blurb? Reader comes from a dysfunctional family where her dads alway angry and she feels like she’s walking on egg shells when around him and her mom throws all responsibilities like taking care of younger sibling onto reader so they always feel like they aren’t doing enough and they kind of cary these traits into their relationship with remus? maybe remus comes home from a hard day at work and reader can immediately sense he’s in a bad mood and like gets really quiet and starts working on the house instead of spending time with him bc she thinks he will be mad or something

This was way longer than i intended it to be im sorry😭 and I totally understand if this was too much or a topic that you don’t wanna write about there is no pressure at all!!!

love ya! -anon

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: implied past harmful/abusive dynamics

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 849 words

If the sharp turn of his key in the lock didn’t tip you off to Remus’ mood, the way he shuts the door behind him would. Automatically, your mind starts whirring with the things you can do. 

Your boyfriend has barely taken his shoes off before you’re in the kitchen, unloading the overfull dish rack. You’ve no idea how you let it go this long; some of these things have been dry for days. You’re shutting drawers and cabinets as softly as you can, wary of worsening Remus’ irritation with a racket. 

“Hey.” He pads into the kitchen, reaching for you. 

“Hi.” You smile and give him a kiss. His hands start to come around your waist, but you pull away in favor of grabbing a pot from the rack. 

“What’re you up to?” he asks. The exhaustion in his voice has a terse edge that makes your fingertips crackle with nervous energy. 

“Just tidying a bit.” 

“Want some help?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you reply in your most serene voice. “You’ve only just got home, why don’t you relax?” 

Remus hesitates a handful of moments, watching as you go back to whizzing about the kitchen before wordlessly retreating to the living room. 

Once the dish rack is empty, you decide to start filling it up again. There’s an unwashed pot on the stove, an old container of leftovers in the fridge, and a handful of dishes on the coffee table. You make yourself as scarce as you can when you go to retrieve the last. Remus is still emanating traces of a worn-thin temper from where he sits on the couch, reading his book, and you try to minimize the clatter of the dishes as you stack them. When there’s a sigh, you try even harder. 

“Would you stop for a second?” 

You freeze in your tracks. “Stop what?” 

“Just,” he shakes his head, frustrated, “put the dishes down.”

You obey wordlessly. 

Remus looks at you with something you can’t decipher in his expression. “Now would you come here, please?” 

You walk over to him, tensing for—you don’t know what. You don’t think Remus would hit you, and he doesn’t seem like he’s going to shout. You’re stiff with anticipation nonetheless. 

He reaches for you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, slotting against him naturally, the way you always do. Remus presses both palms into your back, hugging you tighter than usual but not enough to hurt. 

He nuzzles his face into your neck. “What’s going on with you?” he asks, and he sounds like the soft, grumbly version of himself that tells you to stop fidgeting at 4 a.m. before trapping you in his hold. You start to relax. 

“You seem like you’ve had a hard day,” you say. Not quite an admittance, but close. 

“I have,” Remus agrees. “I was hoping to come home and relax with you. Maybe have a kiss if you were feeling generous.” His teasing comforts you further, and you don’t flinch when he adjusts his hold so he can look you in the eyes. “Are you being weird because you know I’m in a bad mood?” 

When he puts it like that it sounds so silly. This is how you’ve learned to be around hot tempers, quiet and useful, but of course Remus would want someone to console him. To be with him instead of hiding away. 

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out. Your hands smooth over his shoulders, a belated comfort. 

He sighs, and this time when you hear the frustration in the sound you know it’s not meant for you. Remus takes your face in both hands, pressing a firm kiss to your brow before resting his own against it. 

“Nobody’s angry with you,” he says softly. 

“I know,” you reply just as quietly. “If I think about it, I know you wouldn’t be. It’s just…” 

“Old habits die hard?” he guesses. There’s a wry twist to his tone. 

You hum apologetically. 

Remus lets his cheek slide along yours, pulling you in for another hug. This one is gentler, his hand running the length of your back and squeezing in all the right places. “It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I’m sorry I came home so cross, sweetheart. I never want to worry you.” 

“I like to worry about you a little,” you tease, and you can sense the reward of your boyfriend’s smile spreading unwillingly over your shoulder. “And it’s not fair to expect you not to have any bad feelings around me. That’s just normal.”

Remus hums thoughtfully. “What if we try this: when you’re feeling like I’m upset, you just say something and we’ll talk about whether it has anything to do with you. Do you think that would work for you?” 

You turn your head to rest your cheek on his shoulder. Remus’ palm cruises down the curve of your spine as you let out a breath. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks.” 

“Thank you, lovely.” He tucks his chin to skim a kiss over your temple. “This is just what I needed. I feel better already.”

[chososcamgirl]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER THIRTEEN: hit and miss

masterlist

You find yourself enveloped in a haze, unsure of how you arrived in this space or even where "here" truly is. The atmosphere is thick with the intoxicating blend of sweet vanilla, sweat and sex, hinting at a vibrant gathering. The pulsing rhythm of music resonates around you, suggesting a celebration of sorts.

Oh that’s right you were at Aphrodite. How you got here remains unclear as you find yourself within a sea of bodies, still developing some sort of consciousness. The vibrant surroundings crystallize in your mind, each colour and sound sharpening as you strive to regain your bearings.

“... okay?”

You look up, meeting his piercing green eyes and that all-too-familiar smirk.

“I asked if you’re feeling okay!” he shouts, his voice straining against the vibrant pulse of Don Toliver’s music, but his voice gets lost in the crowd.

You nod, still grappling with your hazy awareness, unwilling to disrupt the lively atmosphere that surrounds you.

Sensing your unease, Megumi takes your hand, guiding you away from the dance floor.

“Noooo, Megumi, where are we going?” you protest, but curiosity compels you to follow.

He remains silent, leading you to a quieter space—the bar.

With a smooth motion, he pulls out a barstool for you, his gaze encouraging you to take a seat. You oblige, sinking into the cool leather as the world around you begins to settle.

“Aww, since when did you become such a gentleman, Megumi?” you tease, a playful smile breaking through your earlier haze.

“Oh, shut up,” he replies, rolling his eyes with feigned annoyance. But the warmth in his smile reveals a deeper affection, softening his initial retort.

You rest your cheek on your hand, pondering how it escapes you that he doesn’t have a girlfriend by now. It’s ironic, considering your situation; while you were entangled with different guys almost every night, never once looking back, he seemed to seek something deeper.

With Megumi, it felt different—more significant, more real.

“Last time we were here, you told me you didn’t sleep virgins,” he remarks, and you roll your eyes in response.

“We both know you weren’t a virgin,” you retort, a playful smirk creeping across your lips.

“How’d you know?” he asks, that familiar glint in his green eyes.

“You didn’t fuck like one,” you reply, eliciting a genuine laugh from him. The sound sparks joy in you, and for a moment, everything else fades away. If you could freeze any moment in time, it would be this one.

But then he glances around the bar, his expression shifting. “Where the hell is the bartender? They have one job, for fucks sake. Hold on, baby, I’m going to get us more drinks.”

Before you can respond to the affectionate nickname, he’s off, leaving you with a swirl of warmth and confusion. Baby. Again with the baby. does he relish the fact that it sounds when it falls from his lips with ease? I mean so did you, but it feels like it just slips out more often these days.

A few moments later, a shadow settles into the seat beside you.

“Took you long enough i-“ you stop, frozen at what’s before you. Or more like who’s before you.

You turn, expecting Megumi, but your breath catches in your throat as you freeze at what’s before you. Or more like who’s before you

“Sukuna?”

“We need to talk, doll.”

“Are you fucking following me?” Your irritation sharpens the air between you.

“Do you really think blocking me will free you from me that easily?” He leans in, his fingers grazing your cheek softly. But that touch feels foreign and hollow—nothing like the warmth you’ve experienced with Megumi.

“I thought you would know better than that, doll.”

You quickly swat his hand away, anger igniting within you. “Sukuna, this is the last time I’ll say it: I’m over you.” You enunciate each word, striving to make it clear.

“Yeah, but will you still be over me when you’re reaching out at 2 AM?” He smirks, a self-assured glint in his eyes that only deepens your frustration.

His confidence is so fucking infuriating

“I don’t need you and that weak dick of yours, so leave me the fuck alone.” The words escape your lips with a finality that reverberates in the charged air as you rise from the stool, determined to walk away.

But before you can move, his hand shoots out, grasping your arm and digging into it - halting you from your progress.

“Let go of me, Sukuna before I break your fucking arm,” you warn, your voice calm yet laced with intensity.

You seize his wrist, twisting it with the intent to escape, trying to maneuver your way free. But he holds on, his grip resolute, leaving you grappling with a sense of frustration as you realise that your efforts are in vain.

“Give me a kiss, and I’ll let you go,” he says, smirking up at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Sukuna? I’m not kissing your pasty ass lips,” you reply, your voice sharp and full of contempt.

The disdain in your tone mirrors the intensity of your glare, the space between you charged with tension as his audacity hangs in the air. You can feel your pulse quicken, a mixture of anger and disbelief coursing through you as you confront his outrageous demands.

You struggle against his grip, but it only tightens, the pressure escalating as you fight to break free.

His nails start to dig into your arms. Harder and harder. Your eyes start to water, not only from the pain but also the humiliation it’s bringing you.

And you bruise easily. Just fucking great. Another reminder of tonight’s events engraved into your arm.

“What’s happening here?” a commanding voice booms from behind you.

You turn to find Megumi standing there, you’ve never been happier to see him more than now. Your knight in shining armour.

Sukuna glances at him, his expression a mix of disdain and challenge. “None of your business, pretty boy,” he snaps, dismissing Megumi with a condescending glance. “You’d best get lost.”

“Actually, she is my business,” Megumi replies, his tone firm and unwavering as he steps closer, exuding an air of protection.

Sukuna releases your arm at those words, and Megumi steps in, towering over you with an air of authority. His hands settle firmly on your shoulders, a palpable sense of protectiveness radiating from him, enveloping you in a reassuring warmth. You can feel the heat radiating from him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat contrasting with the tension of the moment.

Is a heart supposed to race this fast?

The proximity is electric, leaving you caught between the lingering threat of Sukuna and the comfort of Megumi’s presence.

He watches the two of you with keen interest, and you can almost see the pieces clicking together in his mind as realisation dawns.

“Ohoho, look at you, doll, already found yourself another boyfriend,” he remarks slyly, a smirk playing on his lips.

You feel Megumi's heart race beneath your fingertips, the tension palpable.

“You know,” Sukuna begins, clicking his tongue as if savouring the moment, “I could never fully trust you when we were together. The thought of you with another guy always haunted me.” He chuckles, a mocking tone threading through his words.

But now, Megumi’s heartbeat quickens, the atmosphere thickening with unspoken emotions.

“You were always throwing yourself at the first guy who showed you attention. Now that I think of it, you were such a slu-” Before he could finish, the words were abruptly silenced by the sharp impact of a fist meeting his mouth.

You find yourself pushed aside, an unwilling witness to what can only be described as the beatdown of the century unfolding mere feet away. Under normal circumstances, you might savour the spectacle of your ex finally facing the consequences of his actions, but the shots of vodka you indulged in hours earlier weigh heavily on your senses, leaving you disoriented and queasy.

The chaos engulfs you, the details of the fight slipping away like water through your fingers.

The jarring sounds of glass shattering and fists colliding pierce the air, each impact reverberating in your chest. When you glance down, dread washes over you as you see blood staining your skirt - a visceral reminder of the violence erupting around you.

You feel immobilised a sense of disbelief locking you in place as the intensity of as the scene unfolds before you. It isn’t until one of the indifferent bartenders vaults over the counter to intervene that clarity begins to seep back in.

You glance at Megumi, whose face is now smeared with blood - you can’t tell if it’s his or Sukuna's. Suddenly, your instincts kick in, propelling you into action as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

“Megumi, oh my god,” you gasp, your hands instinctively moving to cradle his face, fingers trembling as you make contact. He flinches slightly at your touch, the pain etched in his expression.

“We need to get out of here,” you insist, urgency lacing your voice.

Taking charge, you grasp his hand and lead him through the chaos, your determination unwavering. Spotting an Uber, you don’t hesitate.

“Change the address,” you command the driver, your tone leaving no room for argument.

The car ride stretches on, filled with your anxious inquiries of “Where does it hurt?” punctuated by his resolute refusals of “No, I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

Each response intensifies your concern, yet you remain focused, channelling all your energy into ensuring his safety, aware that the night has already spiralled too far out of control.

—

You find yourselves in your bathroom, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension as you meticulously stitches the cut on his forehead. He perches on the edge of the makeup-stained sink, watching you intently as you focus on the gash near his temple, your lips pursed to one side in concentration.

“It might scar,” you say, glancing up momentarily, a hint of concern in your voice.

“Or it might look hot, who knows?” he replies, a teasing light in his eyes that briefly cuts through the seriousness of the moment.

You shake her head, a faint smile playing at the corners of your mouth as you continue to clean the blood from his face. “You didn’t have to do that, Megumi.”

“I’m not going to let you take some random’s shit,” he replies firmly, the conviction in his tone unwavering.

“You shouldn’t have to go through that,” you countered softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek with the cloth, the intimacy of the gesture sending a jolt of connection between them.

“He wasn’t just some random,” you begin, your voice dropping to a near whisper. “He’s my ex.”

Megumi’s eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his face.

“It’s a long story,” you continue, drawing a deep breath to steady yourself. “The short version is that we dated for two years - on and off. We weren’t good for each other; hell, we were toxic. Eventually, I realised being codependent was not hot girl shit, so I walked away.”

“Looks like he’s back in town.”

He observes you, his expression turning serious, the weight of your revelation settling heavily between them.

“I’m sorry,” is all he manages, the gravity of her past hanging in the air, leaving an undeniable tension that neither of them can ignore.

“Yeah, it is what it is. I hate him, though,” you confess, your voice wavering as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The weight of your emotions is palpable, revealing a deeper turmoil beneath your words.

“All finished!” you proclaim, forcing a bright smile as you quickly turn away, hastily wiping your eyes before he can notice your vulnerability.

The abrupt shift feels almost jarring as if you’re desperately trying to mask the storm brewing within you, the facade of strength clashing with the rawness of your feelings. In that fleeting moment, the contrast between your bravado and heartache hangs heavily in the air.

He turns her around slowly, his fingertips grazing her arm with a delicate touch. “Your arm…” he murmurs, concern deepening in his voice as the bruising intensifies with each passing minute.

You brush his hand away, deflecting both his touch and his worries. “I’m fine, Megumi. Really, don’t worry about me.”

“Yn.” His grip tightens around your hand, his gaze piercing into yours. In that moment, you feel an unexpected pang in your heart—a warmth unfurling within your chest. This sensation is new; it’s different. With Sukuna, such feelings never stirred in you.

Your eyes lock, a glimmer of hope shimmering in yours, while his expression softens with a simmer of affection. “Please, Yn, let me help you,” he implores, brushing his thumb tenderly across your palm.

You smile, not merely in response to his actions but because of his words. For the first time, someone sees beyond your body, caring for you in a way that transcends physical wounds. In this moment, you grasp the essence of love - authentic and profound.

And that feeling? It’s with Megumi.

extras!

• yasss aphrodite mention again😍 sorry for the mess that omi has to clean up ree…

• got confirmed that aphrodite DOES play don toliver thank yew

• if ur wondering where the others where just imagine the famous met gala bathroom pic but exclude megumi and yn (probably smoking weed or something idk)

• tbh guys i honestly don’t know who would have won that fight i’ll leave it up to you guys to decide…

• uber driver thought he was getting robbed..

• he was TOO tired to deal with their shit

• trust the bathroom scene was INTIMATE it was like 3am…

• megumi slept over and the others took pictures of ynmegumi when they got home and sent it to the groupchat LOL

a/n: this one is late bc i was up watching princess and the frog with my niece again😭 but let’s be real when am i EVER on time posting… also officially got the ick by sukuna im this one i don’t know how im going to defend him… but i hope u guys enjoyed this chap :3

taglist: @shokosbunny @luvvmae @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @noodles-icetea @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @renbittt @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @oroborosttheiii @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @pastriepuppy @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Guilty || Billy the Kid x oc!reader

Summary: For the longest time you've felt like you have always been second to your older sister, Dulcinea. That however, soon changes when an outlaw, William H. Bonney—known to many as Billy the Kid—comes to town.

Warnings: smut!

Wc: 2,930

A/n: please send through more requests for Billy please! also the smut scene is lowkey inspired by the bathroom scene in euphoria season 2 with nate and cassie....

Divider by @pommecita

"I'm Billy. I just wanted to introduce myself," You hear a man spoke as you near the door. Your sister lets out a small scoff, "Well that is not a very good reason to ambush someone in the street," Dulcinea quipped.

"You have another motive," You hear your sister say as you press yourself against the door to listen more closely to the conversation. "I'd like to see you again," At his words, your eyes widen. Who was this mysterious man? "Why?" And there was a gap of silence.

You stepped out from your previous spot as all eyes were now on you. "Are we ready to go?" You ask your sister as she gives one final look to the man named Billy. You take your chance to look the man up and down.

He was a very good-looking cowboy. Your eyes roam around his body before you snap out of it as your name was called out, "Sofía, let's go” Billy watches you, his lips parting as he drinks in your appearance, he put two and two together and figured you were Dulcinea's sister.

You looked very similar to Dulcinea, more prettier perhaps in his opinion. Billy tips his hat slightly to you as you give him a small smile before walking towards the carriage. Dulcinea stares at you as you sit beside her, she slams the door shut and the carriage begins to move.

You couldn't help but look back to where Billy still stood. "Don't even think about it," Your sister firmly says as you roll your eyes. She was directly telling you to back off with Billy. Something that she has always done with every guy you and her have come across.

While Dulcinea was looking away, you sneaked a look and found Billy looking straight at you. Your cheeks begin to warm up as you send him a little wave to which he smiles before mounting his horse.

The next day, you decided to accompany your maid into town to buy a few things. You were secretly hoping to see that man again, Billy was his name. He looked unfamiliar to you, so you wanted to find out more about him.

"Isabel, have you heard of a Billy here?" You ask her as you inspect an apple in your hand. There was no response from the older woman. Isabel continued to look through the assortments of fruits laid out in front. "Isabel." You put the apple down as she sighs.

"Yes. I know of a Billy. And you should stay away from him, he is bad news, mi hija." She shakes her head whilst muttering incoherent words under her breath. Your eyes suddenly begin to look around, hopeful that you would get a glimpse of him. And you did.

He was across the street, tying his horse to the post. "I'll be back," You didn't bother waiting for a response before you pick up the fabrics of your dress and walk across the street.

You stop when you see your family carriage pull up in front of him, your view of him blocked. You furrow your eyes in confusion as to who else came into town. Mother and father were away and only you and Isabel left the house this morning, which meant that it was your sister.

What was she doing here? Dulcinea said she had no interest coming into town today saying she was too busy. Just as quickly as the carriage came, it quickly left. Billy's eyes were glued onto the carriage before his eyes begin to wander around, eventually landing on you.

You probably looked strange just standing in the middle of the streets, staring at him. Billy freezes slightly, his eyes looking you up and down. A smile makes it onto his face before he tips his hat at you once again.

"Sofía!" You move your attention away from Billy and see a friend of yours, Lucía, walking your direction, a huge grin plastered on her face. "What are you doing here?" She gives you a funny look as you clear your throat, your eyes flickering to where Billy was, only to find his figure disappearing into the building.

"I'm shopping, with Isabel." You give her a smile. "And where is she?" Lucía looks around as she links arms with you. "Right this way," You say as you walk with her. "Do you know of a man named Billy?" You suddenly ask her.

She would know. She knows basically everything about everyone in town. "Billy?" She says to herself, "I've heard of that name, can you tell me what he looks like?" Lucía looks at you.

"Well he's tall. Very tall. He looks like he's my sister's age. Brown hair, blue eyes and- oh- very good looking," You jokingly fan yourself as Lucía laughs, you joining along.

You stop in your tracks when you see Billy mounting his horse. You quickly nudge Lucía, "Look! There he is, that's the man I was telling you about," You cock your head over to where Billy was. Lucía's mouth hangs open, her eyes moving from him to you. "What?" You raise an eyebrow at her weird behaviour.

"You're talking about Billy? That Billy?!" Her voice begins to become louder as you slap your hand over her mouth. "Shh! He can probably hear you," You whisper yell at her as the two of you watch Billy ride off.

"So you know him?" You ask your friend as she gives you the 'really' look. "Of course I know him! Everyone in this county knows about him, except for you apparently," Lucía shakes her head. "What? Why? Who is he?"

Confusion was etched into your face as Lucía facepalms herself. "Sofía, haven't you heard of Billy the Kid? The famous outlaw that has been travelling from town to town? Surely you have heard of him, mi amiga."

Now that you thought about it, his name was familiar to you. You recall your parents talking him at home, but it never clicked in your head that that was the Billy they were talking about. "Yeah, I have," You kick a rock infront of you, your eyes watching where it lands. "Why do you wanna know about him anyways?" She asks you as you shrug.

"Dulcinea was talking to him last night, just got curious, that's all." Lucía didn’t buy it one bit but chose to leave it alone. “You’re not wrong you know,” She breaks the silence as you turn your head to her, a puzzled look on your face.

“About Billy being attractive,” She cracks a shy smile before you nudge her and the two of you start laughing out loud. “Sofía! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come on, hurry up.” The old woman scolds you, pushing you towards your carriage as Lucía chuckles, waving you goodbye.

~

You couldn't stop thinking about him. How could you not? The fact that he was a notorious outlaw further fueled the fire that was ablaze in the lower pit of your stomach. A sudden knock at the front door of your house made you pause your train of thoughts.

You were slightly confused at the idea of a visitor today. Mother and father were gone and you weren't expecting anyone over. You stand still in your spot before you hear footsteps leaving Dulcinea's room. Quickly walking out of your room, you grab ahold of your older sister's arm.

"Who's here?" You ask her and a smile you knew all to well crept onto her face. "Billy. Remember that guy you saw a two nights ago? I invited him over," She says nonchalantly. Your eyebrows crease in bewilderment.

"You know who exactly he is right, Dulcie?" Her nickname slips out of your mouth as she faces you front on, arms crossed. "Yes, I do, Sof," She points her chin up the tiniest bit, something she did whenever she was questioned.

"Then what the hell is he doing on our doorstep? Father would kill you if he ever found out that an outlaw stepped foot into our house-" "Which is why you will keep quiet." Dulcinea interrupts you, her tone sharp. You could see it in her eyes, rage brewing.

You loudly scoff, examining her features. "You know father would never allow it, plus, you already have someone you’re forced to marry soon," You narrow your eyes at her as she rolls hers. "Oh please, father will come around. Billy is not what people perceive him to be. I think father will like him," Is all she says as she turns around, making her way to the front door.

You exhale from your mouth before you make your way back to your room. You were dying to see Billy, but knowing Dulcinea, she would not let you be in the same room with him because you knew she liked him. And whoever Dulcinea liked, was off-limits to you, her innocent, little sister.

For the next couple of hours, you entertained yourself in your room. It was late at night when you figured that Billy had already left. You walked out of your bedroom, turning the corner before you collide with somebody.

You lose balance and readied yourself for the harsh impact but you were pulled back up by your forearms. "Fuck- I'm so sorry, sweetheart-" "It's fine. It's fine." You screw your eyes shut knowing whose voice it belonged to as you blew a loose strand of hair out of your face.

"What are you doing?" You ask him, your eyes looking around for any sign of your sister. "I- uh was 'bout to leave," Your lips form an 'o' before you slowly nod your head, silence following.

Your eyes were on everything but him. And his eyes were on you, studying your features that were similar to Dulcinea in some ways. "You're real pretty aren't cha, doll?" Your eyes snap to his after the pet name he just gave you, your mind slightly going blank before you process his comment.

"Am I?" Your voice dripped with playfulness as you tilt your head at him. You knew damn well Dulcinea could walk this way at any moment and see the two of you; she would let hell loose. "Mhm, prettier than your sister, I'd say. But don't go telling her I told you that." He winks as you furiously blush.

Your eyes falter down to your dress as you adjust the skirts of it slightly. "Y'know, I actually wanted to talk to you when I saw you in town earlier today," Billy's words make you look up at him.

"Really? Why didn't you?" You tilt your head at him as he kisses his teeth before opening his mouth, "Your sister, had me occupied for a bit and when I saw you, you were talkin' to someone else." He shrugs as you slowly nod.

"Well, I'm right here. What did you wanna talk about, Billy?" Your voice all of sudden was quiet. Billy smiled in satisfaction at his effect. "You uh- married?" He steps closer to you as he slightly cranes his neck to study your features.

You gulp. "N-no," You shake your head. He slowly nods his head, tucking his hands in his pockets. "You seein' anyone?" He asks, though his tone had a tinge of possessiveness in it. "No." Billy stares at you, his mind all over the place.

You were only 2 years younger than him but surely such a pretty, respectable, young lady like yourself would be married off to someone already, or seeing someone at least. "Good," He mutters as you couldn't help but smile. "Why's that, Mr. Bonney?" He looks around before he does something that catches you off guard. He grabbed your jaw and kisses your lips. Hard. You take a second to process what was happening.

He was kissing your so feverishly as if you were going to disappear. You stumble back at his rough force before he leads you down the hallway, his lips never leaving yours for a second. "The door on the left," You manage to say in between the kisses as he pulls you into your room.

Hands frantic, Billy skillfully undid the laces of your dress yanking it down to expose your chest as he wets his lips at the sight. He barely got your dress off before his hand grabbed your thigh and wrapped it around his waist.

He pushed you back against the door as you gasp, his mouth latching on to your nipples, your head thrown back at the sensation. Your hands toyed with Billy's hair as you tried containing your moans knowing your sister was still in the house.

"Don't keep quiet darlin'" He says against your skin before you feel him ripping your underwear. Your jaw dropped but you soon let out a loud moan as he slid into you. He groans against your neck, allowing you to adjust at the size, and when you do, he pumps into you at an almost inhumane speed.

You let out quiet moans as Billy grunts. Your hair was all messed up from being pushed up against the wooden door. "Oh my- Billy-" You breathed out, pushing him further into you with the heels of your foot around his waist.

""Fuckkk, feel so good baby" He grunts in you ear as you couldn't help but smile. A sudden knock on the door made you gasp in terror. Billy slapped his hand over your mouth at lightning speed to shut you up. "Sofía?" Dulcinea calls out from behind the door, another knock.

You stare wide eyed at Billy who quietly curses. "Sofía, are you in there?" Your sisters calls out for the second time as you panic. "Y-yeah?" Your voice was shaky. If Dulcinea found out that you fucked Billy, it would be over for you.

Although you were more free to do things than your older sister, you don't think your parents would be too happy to know their youngest daughter had sex with an outlaw, in their house. And you don't think Dulcinea would ever forgive you. She must be serious with Billy since she invited him over, something she never did with any of the previous guys.

"Why is the door lock?" The door handle rattles as you shut your eyes, feeling the tears coming. "Uh just a s-second! I'm changing!" You call out to her. Billy gently lets you down, zipping his pants as you attempt to tidy your appearance but fail miserably when the laces on your dress become tangled.

"Billy! Help me!" You whisper yell as tears were brimming your eyes. Billy's features soften when he sees you, quickly untangling the lace. In a matter of seconds, it was undone. He cupped your face in his big hands, your cheeks wet from tears.

"Shh, don't cry, sweetheart," He hushed, wiping your tears as you cover your mouth to quieten the sob that escapes. "She's my sister, she'll kill me!" Your voice was shaky as he pulls you into his chest, his hand in your hair.

"Sofía!" Dulcinea yells out, banging on the door as you flinch. You pull back from Billy as your eyes look around your room for a place to hide Billy. Settling on the panel room divider you push him behind it, "Wait here until she leaves, then you can sneak out of the window." You quickly say as he nods.

Before you turn back around, he grabs your hand. "Hey- it's okay," He assures you, his hand caressing your cheek as you slowly nod. "Finally!" Dulcinea exclaims as you didn't dare to make eye contact with her. She takes in your appearance.

"You okay? You look like you just ran a marathon," She raises an eyebrow as she touches your forehead but you pull back, a confused expression on her face.

"I'm fine, I just don't feel well." You gulp, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ears, clearing your throat. "Right... Go tell Isabel and she'll give you something." Dulcinea says, you could tell she wasn't fully buying it.

"What did you want me for?" You finally meet her sharp eyes, "Oh. Have you seen Billy around? His horse is still outside and he was supposed to leave about an hour ago," She folds her arms, leaning against your door as her eyes wander around your room.

You clear your throat, slightly moving in front of her to block her view. "No, I haven't seen him. He probably went to take a look at the other horses in the stable," You lie through your teeth as your sister stares at you suspiciously.

"Okay," She says as you discreetly let out a sigh of relief. She gives you one final look before pushing herself off of the frame and walks down the hallway. You shut your door, locking it just as Billy comes up to you making you jump.

"I think you should go," You say to him. His hands rest on your shoulders, "I wanna see you again," He says softly, lifting your chin up to look him in the eyes. "Me too," You smile before he leans down to place a final kiss on your lips.

"What about tomorrow? Come see me in town," He suggests as you open your window. "I'd like that," You both smile at each other as he readies himself to leave. Just as he leaves through your window, he tips his hat at you. "Bye, Sofía," "Bye Billy," You chuckle lightly before he leaves and you shut your window.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Old dog

Daryl Dixon x reader | SMUT🔞

Daryl is never been watched with such interest before, and it grabs his attention. But he feels like he got his order of actions wrong..

The Kingdom was a strange place.

First there was the King, with his pet tiger.

The King spoke in a strange manner, and his ever so friendly right hand too.

The Queen was a kind woman, she had shown you around and given you a roof over your head after you wandered into her lands.

The Kingdom had guards on horseback, and all its residents referred to their leader as the King.

Like a true old age Kingdom.

It was near summer when you arrived and took some time to get settled, now having your routine all worked out and were a happy new addition to the bakery.

While it meant crazy early mornings, it brought many people a good start of their day. You made your delivery rounds as the first people got up to tend to the gardens before the sun got too hot, passing then with a kind smile and a good morning wish on your way to the school building where you'd make your last delivery of the day.

You continued your daily tasks back at the bakery when a returning resident came by.

Each day he'd come by to pick up the same order, so by now it was standard to have it ready by a certain time.

Like clockwork he showed up, the gorgeous older man with his grey streaked hair that framed his bearded face oh so perfect.

You always wondered about the scar that sat around one of his sea blue eyes, but you never found the courage to ask.

You only knew his first name because the baker mentioned it once.

Daryl.

With rough, scarred hands he accepted the packaged food but remained in his spot.

"M'sorry, ya don't happen ta have sun leftovers, do ya? 'M headin' out fer a couple days 'n could use some extras." A little stunned by the sudden change in routine had you stammer a response neither of you could make out before you disappeared further into the back.

To your luck a fresh batch was just taken out of the oven, so you quickly grabbed a few buns and put them in a tea towel before moving back to the front.

"Here you go, fresh out of the oven." You smiled nervously as you held out the makeshift pouch, almost freezing as the calloused pads of his fingers brushed your skin while taking the bread from you.

With a charming as ever thanks he made his way out the door.

After the third time preparing the order for Daryl, who wasn't in town to come pick it up you were told to go take a day or two off, relax and go try and catch him come back home later during the day.

On your delivery routes and walks around the community you had caught wind of some kind of guard dog. You'd pick it up from time to time but today had been much more frequent.

You wondered what they meant. Maybe you'd ask Carol about it later.

The Kingdom was a nice place.

Each day there would be someone in the community's centre, playing some kind of instruments. Alone or in a group, it varied, but it was always nice to enjoy when you could.

You were enjoying it for so long you barely noticed the sun starting to set and Carol finding you. "Couldn't catch you at the bakery today, was told you were given the day off."

She came to sit beside you, enjoying the music and sharing a small snack she brought with you.

After a short while she got up, turning to you and offering a hand. "Come, we're gonna see something. If I have to believe the baker's words you're gonna love it."

Carol's words confused you, the thought of the baker casually talking about you with her wasn't really a happy one. Yet you followed her every step as she made her way to the front gates of the Kingdom.

"We're heading out? Without weapons or gear?" There was nothing around for you to see, confusion rising even more and edging on annoyance. Why wouldn't she just way where you were going?

You stood and watched as as she bounced on her heels with her arms behind her back. She was being all giddy about something and your mind could not come up with what on earth it could be.

Option after option ran through your mind until the guards spoke and the gates started to open.

Carol passed you a smile and raised her brows as she nudged her head towards the gate before turning back to watch.

You took a step closer to see what she was on about, and within the reach of your first step a figure came into view between the large gate doors.

"Holy shit." You stood frozen, much like those few days ago when Daryl suddenly asked for additions to his bakery order.

Despite the distance between the two of you and the low volume of your words, it looked like he heard you and gave you a smile and a small wave.

The scene before you became crazier by the second, on his shoulders a large deer that he carried without any visible strain but that wasn't all. Tied to his waist with a thick belt he lugged a tarp stacked with different hunted animals.

But something else felt off, beside the show of inhuman strength he seemed to possess.

Out from underneath his hair poked an ear, like it did sometimes before as well, although they seemed.. pointed?

His smile as well. You had seen the stubby pointed canines he had, but there were loads of people who had those slightly longer than average. Why did they look bigger now, accompanied with a similar set on his bottom teeth that surely weren't there before.

Also, was he fuzzier than normal? It was all hard to see in the dim light. It could just have been dirt stuck on his skin from being out in the woods so long. Surely he didn't bother cleaning up out there.

All the while Daryl dragged his game inside and stopped to report to Carol, glancing your way every so often as he could feel the energy radiating off you. He was enjoying the way you stared at him with confusion that slowly morphed into something he almost wanted to categorize as adoration.

It wasn't often Daryl got that look from anyone, so to say he was suddenly more intrigued by the baker woman was an understatement.

"Hey," Daryl's voice pulled you from your thoughts, staring at him without a single word running through your mind. "Wanna help unload all'a this at the butcher?"

A silent nod was all you managed as you followed him, hearing Carol say something but not entirely registering her words.

It was the next day when you saw him outside of his usual routine yet again, before the time of his usual pickup. The early summer sun was up when you made your rounds, and so was Daryl.

Across the street from the butcher’s place was a small area that used to be a children’s playground where you caught him doing pull-ups, flannel hanging open over his torso that you secretly expected to be way more toned, but instead you saw lightly furred soft flesh.

He hadn’t noticed you as you moved past to the butcher’s doorstep where you’d leave her order, quietly mumbling to yourself as you stared at Daryl again. “Lords, I want that man to fold me like a lawn chair..” You were so lost in the view of him pulling up his full weight with just one arm, his legs crossed under him, that you didn’t hear the butcher arrive until she pat you on the shoulder. “I may not be into men, but even I can see the appeal of that old dog bending me over the nearest surface.”

The sudden contact made you squeak and jump away, only to be laughed at as you stumbled over your words before running along on your delivery route.

It was only a couple of seconds after you were out of earshot that Daryl appeared on the butcher's steps, shoulders shaking as he softly laughed at the interaction he heard all too well just a moment ago. "Yer horrible, ya know tha'?" He bumped her shoulder aa he walked past her, into the shop to start working on all the kills he brought back the day before.

The butcher let out a breath through her nose. "And you love me for it, mutt." Behind her she closed the door and flipped off the hunter, sticking out her tongue behind his back. "'Course I love ya, ya crazy knife wieldin' hag."

The rest of the day after running off at the butcher went fairly normal, Daryl picked up his order and you cleaned the place alone with the baker having to leave early for a meeting.

It was only when you closed up shop for the day that it got weird. Daryl stood outside, seemingly waiting with his arms crossed under short sleeves so tight you wondered how they hadn't cut off circulation yet.

Without missing a beat he pushed himself off the wall and stepped beside you. "C'mon. Wanna show ya som'n." His gruff voice could tell you to eat dirt and you'd do it so naturally you followed suit, walking around the community until you reached the homes placed at the far end, right at the forest wall.

You took in the beat up old truck with the hood popped and one wheel missing, and next to it inside the garage with the missing door a bike that looked like it was made over years of collecting parts. Was this his home?

You followed him inside the garage, the door in the back opening and leading into a small kitchen littered with tools and materials. The tea towel you gave him the bread in laid neatly folded on the corner of the messy table, not a single grease or oil covered item near it.

In the moment of distraction Daryl's hand landed on your hip as he scooted past you in the narrow space between the counter and the table, his crotch brushing your ass in the process.

He felt you become rigid at his touch and apologized. "Sorry, doll. Place ain't made fer two."

His hand remained in its place, squeezing as he apoligized making you want to just give in to your haunting daydreams and let him take you right then and there.

"So, what did you wanna show me again?" You were fidgeting, trying to calm your nerves with Daryl so close.

"S' upstairs. Sum ol' items ya can dig through. See if ya wan' sum." With a hand placed on your hip he led you upstairs, steering you around the corner and through one of the doors, ending with your knees pressed against a bed.

Before you had a chance to ask anything one of Daryl's hands came around your front, resting on your lower belly as the other one snuck around your chest. "How 'bout ya be a good girl fer me an' lemme fold ya like a lawn chair." His beard drug across your skin as he came to bite your earlobe. "Tha's what ya want, righ'? Got all hot 'n bothered when the butcher mentioned me bendin 'er over the counter.." with one hand sneaking under your waistband and the other softly squeezing your breast he had you whimpering.

"S'fine, righ'?" His hands stilled at your silence. "Words, doll. Ain' gon do anythin' unless ya give me an okay." His hands moved to cafefully turn you around to look you in the eye, but you quickly buried your face in his chest, hands against him as well and all your body wanted was to squeeze.

Squeeze your fingers into his plump, soft chest. Squeeze your thighs together for some desparately needed friction.

You softly nodded, murmuring something Daryl couldn't make out.

"Need ta hear ya." Daryl softly caressed your shoulder, moving to tilt your head up so you'd look at him.

Your eyes scanned his face, soft and gentle. Eyes glistening a bright blue between the thick, red scarred line that cut right through an eyebrow. Your eyes wandered to his lips, partially hidden by the grey scruff that occupied the lower half of his face as you breathed. "I want this."

With your eyes on his lips you saw his concerned look change into a wicked grin that showed his pointed canines.

In a split second after that you were thrown onto the bed and caged between Daryl's limbs, his face buried in your neck as he nipped and sucked at your skin.

"Go on." He whispered. "Take 'em off. I know ya wan' it." Daryl was on his way to the hem of your shirt already as you slowly worked your hands towards the buttons of of his flannel, undoing them with trembling fingers, focus drifting away with every drag of his teeth across your flesh.

With some assistance your top halves were soon bare. Daryl's hands on your soft chest, tongue all over them as he sucked bruises to the underside.

Your fingers found his hair, pulling at the strands in pleasure as the others traced every scar on Daryl's body. From the small puncture wounds to the large gashes on his back, you caressed each one of them.

Letting out short, panted breaths your body burned wherever Daryl's fingers trailed, the rough pads leaving a path of tingling flesh from your chest down to your side, his tongue following down your body between where his hands had gone.

With the descent of his body his scarred frame moved out of reach, placing both hands in his hair and tugging as his teeth dug into your skin, earning a growl that sounded from deep in his chest.

With newfound interest you pulled again, your nails scratching his scalp in the process as your hips rolled up against his torso.

The low, scratchy moan that left him rumbled against your hip and had him quickly slide his hands down your hips. With no effort you felt your hips rise as two strong hands grabbed your ass and fabric slide off your body. Both your loose trousers and panties were shoved down the rounds of your hips as they lifted off the bed, the fabric pulled off your legs before your knees ended on both sides of your chest and Daryl's teeth were back just below your bellybutton where the meat of your folded torso met in perfect, bite-sized rolls.

You watched him litter your stomach in marks, clamping his jaw onto your thighs to color your skin in where only he could admire them.

"Daryl, please.."

Your voice had him lock eyes with you from where he sat between your legs and watched your pleading gaze with a soft nod before leaning back down and licking a broad stripe over the back of your thigh, moving to delve his tongue right into your centre.

Your moans of his name added fuel to the already raging fire, parting your lips with his tongue and drinking up all of your sweetness. With each stroke against your clit your walls clenched around nothing, muscles tensing but your body laying unmoved under Daryl's strong grip.

You squirm, hands finding his on your thighs as you whine and mewl, signaling you being close to finishing.

"Such pretty sounds, all fer me.." Daryl speaks against your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more and teasing you, making you hold back your own thigh so his fingers could join his mouth, stuffing two down your entrance with ease as he kept licking and sucking in tandem with the curls of his digits.

Your sounds increase in volume with Daryl's ministrations, crying out at your peak, clenching your walls tightly around his fingers as you finished.

"'Ere, lemme stretch those legs fer ya." With gentle hands he laid your legs flat against the bed on either side of him, allowing the blood flow to return while you came down from your high.

You watched him with hazy eyes, on his knees between your legs tugging at the button and zipper of his black jeans. Beneath the oh so inviting trail of dark hair he lowered the layers still on him to reveal his thick, hard cock.

Your view was close to perfection, a gorgeous old man between your spread legs. The lines of his body like rings on a tree, showing signs of age and survival. From the scar at his collarbone, at the edge of the soft dusting of chest hair down to his thick strong legs he was removing his clothes from he was like a piece of art for you to admire as you desired.

And gods, you desired him.

"Ya look like ya wanna eat me alive." He looked down at you, one hand running through his hair while the other slowly stroked his cock.

You licking your lips as you stared at his impressive length was all he needed to ler himself fall forward and catch himself right before he'd make contact with you, calmly catching your lips in a deep kiss. With your tongue against his lips you asked for more and he obliged almost immediately, parting his lips and swiping his tongue against yours, lips moulding together in percect harmony until you desperately needed air.

Your hand lingered on the side of his head, thumb caressing the scar around his eye.

"What's the story on this one?" Daryl couldn't get enough of that look on your face. The one filled with curiosity, not a speck of fear or disgust on you.

"Old girlfrien' decided she didn' like me no more." He averted your gaze as he remembered the fight in the cabin back then, and the serrated edge of the knife catching the skin of his face. He deliberately left out the terms his then lover called him as she chased him out the door with a shotgun. That was a tale for another time.

Right now all he wanted was to ravish the woman underneath him.

The setting sun caught his eyes and for a fraction of a second they seemed to glow, icy blue in a sea of black. When they looked back at you it was gone, a pair of normal blue eyes looking at you.

He shook off the memories and brought his focus back to the now, to you underneath him, the scent of your arousal, and his painfully hard cock.

Daryl adjusted his position, his length rubbing your folds in the process earning a soft moan from you.

"Gonna make more o'them pretty noises fer me, doll?" His hand reached for his member and rubbed the tip between your folds, spreading your wetness around, listening to your soft mutters of "yes" and "please".

Daryl needed no more convincing, nuzzling your noses together before kissing you deeply as he slowly inches himself inside of you. The initial stretch hurt and you couldn't help but groan into the kiss at how big he was. His cock was way girthier than just two fingers, and it had been years since your last time before this.

Daryl's hand moved down your body, slowly rubbing your clit to distract from the stretch. His kisses deepened, your tongue sliding past his teeth, feeling around his fangs with fascination.

A soft whimper sounded from you as he bottomed out, making him halt a moment to let you adjust. "Ya tell me when yer good, 'kay?"

You nodded and answered a soft "uhuh." and a bit later, after a few experimental squeezes you told him you were good.

With his hand still on your hip Daryl carefully pulled back and slid inside at a slow and steady pace, letting you get used to him for a few thrusts until your heels came up to dig in his rear.

"Hmhm, eager are we?" Daryl grinned against your neck, taking the hint and quickening his pace. His hands had your hips in a bruising grasp, his hips snapping against yours earning soft gasps on each impact.

"H.. hah.. ah Daryl fuck--" you were a beautiful piece beneath him, with your head thrown to the side, arm covering your eyes and chest heaving and shaking with each thrust.

"So good, doll. So pretty for me." Daryl was huffing out a laugh, moving his hands off your hips to grab at your lower legs. Deep, short thrusts continued as he moved your legs from around him back to up beside your torso, knees pressed against your shoulders as he fucked into you with your ass up off the matress.

He was so deep all of a sudden it had you see stars, crying out his name aa your orgasm crashed down on you.

You were sweating all over, breaths deep to get enough air and body heavy. With your eyes closed you laid still, getting the air back into your lungs as Daryl teased you by softly rutting into your overly sensitive cunt.

"Don' tell me yer tired already, I haven't even finished yet.." His thrusts changed angles and now brushed your clit, having you mewl out pleas he chose to ignore. "Tha's more like it, music, those sounds o' yers." His thrusts continued, as did your pleas. You didn't even know what you were begging for but the knot in your belly was quickly returning in time with his thrusts getting sloppier, not long after crying out again as you came a few thrusts before je did too.

There were tears rolling down your face, laying limp on the bed. Daryl's hands had let go of your legs again, letting you stretch them for thr short moment before he was fully hard again.

Unexpectedly Daryl flipped you onto your stomach and moving your hips around to his preference.

"Time fer round two?" He wached you nod wit your face in the pillows, moving to slowly press inside you once more and bending down to press soft kisses to your back. Your mind went back to being hazy a few thrusts in with how good his cock felt at this new angle fist gripping at the pillows beneath you that muffled your moans.

His hands were all over your backside, kneading every soft surface he could reach as he continued his steady pace.

Your sounds were like music to his ears, wishing to hear them every night, over and over again until your throat was so soar he had to bring you medicine and nurse you back to health. Your curiosity was already enough to make him want you, never having anyone radiate such a type of energy towards him and it has him hooked. But having you here like this now had him almost addicted, wanting to keep you, claim you but he knew he didn't have the right to do so. He didn't deserve it, for he was sort of still lying to you about large aspects of his life.

But if he could make you feel this good now in this moment, that was all he cared about.

He fucked you from behind until you came once, twice and then moved you onto your side, holding onto one of your legs against his chest as je continued rutting into you, earning two more orgasms from you right before finishing himself for the second time.

As he came down from his high he stared at you, passed out and asleep beneath him. Ever so carefully he moved you so he could lay down as well, pulling you against his chest as he settled to drift off too.

It was morning by the time you woke up, groaning in pain as your legs resisted being moved off the bed. You blinked the sleep from your eyes and shot up off the bed. "Ah, god damn oww.." Your ass hit the matress again, the crunchy layer of dried fluids scratching your thighs.

"Oh for fuck's sake I'm gonna be late!" You stumbled around the place searching for the shower to scrub yourself clean, picking up your shirt off the floor and sniffing it. "Nope, can't wear that. Shit!" You found the bathroom and were vigorously scrubbing your legs and quickly back to digging through all of Daryl's drawers in a panic, trying to find something decent to wear.

"Ya know ya can just ask, right?" You didn't even register what he said and grumbled back at him. "I don't have time, okay? I'm already gonna be late for work and I got nothing to wear because my own clothes stink so I'm gonna have to run home first and be even later."

Face down in a drawer your attention was pulled by a short whistle, and the second you were up and turned towards the noise an entire outfit found your face.

Underwear, socks, simple sweats and a flanel.

"Why do you have a stash of women's clothes?" You were genuinely curious but that didn't stop you from struggling to put on the clothes with your entire body aching. "I don't even know how I'm gonna walk my rounds. Everything hurts.."

You were already dreading today and it had barely even started.

"Need me ta make yer rounds? Got time so I don' mind." Daryl was following you down the stairs now, hands ready to catch you as you stumbled, not wanting you to fall.down the stairs on your wobbly legs.

"No way I'm letting you do my rounds. I don't want the whole community on my neck tomorrow about why I sent you." You were halfway out the door already, walking as fast as possible and waving Daryl off on your not so fast way to work.

You arrived late and got told off for it, but the baker quickly changed his demeanor once he saw you limp. He gave you a quick rundown of what he had planned to do at the bakery and let you stay in as he took over your rounds, which you were very thankful for.

The front door bell rang and Carol appeared, a while after Daryl had dropped by for his usual, and bringing in a bag with your clothes.

"Hey, didn't see you this morning." Carol was as cheery as ever, her hair braided and her smile kind and motherly.

"Yeah," you leaned against the counter, wincing as you moved your weight. "Hurt my leg yesterday, so I'm in here thr whole day now." You tried to shrug it off, not feeling like coming up with a decent enough lie. Not that you needed one anyways.

"Which clearly has nothing to do with you spending the night at Daryl's place?" A knowing smile spread on her face as she looked you up and down, arms crossed over her chest, laughing as she watched your eyes about to pop out of your head in response. "You're wearing my emergency clothes. Looks like we have about the same size."

You felt blessed with today being a quiet day and could clean while you chatted with Carol and closed up shop after, with the baker off again while you ran the bakery.

"There's something wrong with that man." You sighed as you bent down to lock up the garage door, groaning as you came back up. "He's like, what? Almost sixty? And he still held out longer than me. I swear I passed out once before he was done."

Carol was giggling all the way with your bags in her hand. "He's fifty-four, but alright."

"Yeah, okay. That fifty-four year old would have kept going if I hadn't clocked out after lord knows how ma--"

"Five, doll." Daryl's voice suddenly behind you had you jump up and almost fall if it wasn't for his quick response to steady you.

"How the hell are you fine?" Your question was directed at Daryl, but your eyes were on Carol who was having the time of her life seeing you be so confused about her best friend's energy levels.

"There's a lot about Daryl you don't know yet, dear." She winked at her friend, who only grunted in response.

"Oh really? When are you planning on telling me all about yourself? Do I need to cook you a romantic dinner?" Your words came out with way too much excitement, letting out how eager you were to learn about Daryl.

"Ya'll learn eventually. No need ta rush things, righ'?" His voice kept cool, but Carol read his body language like a book and quickly saw he needed help to cross that line. Him scratching the side of his fingers, and obsessively wiping the hair out of his face, eyes looking everywhere but at you. They were all tells, and Carol felt bad for him.

"Why don't you two stay over for dinner? Ezekiel won't make it home in time so I'd be all alone otherwise." Carol quickly set up a plan, making it all seem like coincidence but in her mind she had all the steps figured out already.

"I'd love to stay over, but only if it's not too much effort." Peeking past Daryl you saw her wave your assumption off and assure it was fine.

And thus you three ended up around Carol's nice dinner table in the King's home.

Somehow you expected it to be fancy and pristine, but that would never happen with how selfless the King was.

The food was nice and Carol had gifted you some stronger painkillers she had laying around to ease your body, you all just chatted about your day, and you thought your subtle questions about him were going okay, until Daryl excused himself to go smoke what seemed in a hurry.

"It's okay honey, Daryl has a hard time opening up to people. He needs to find the right moments to talk." Carol gave you a loving shoulder squeeze and pointed you towards the back door where Daryl had just left through.

"He loves the forest, he feels safe there." With a wink she sent you off.

You carefully approached him and settled in the doorframe. "Hey," Your voice was soft as to not startle him. "Wanna go for a walk? Outside the walls."

With a nod he got up and offered you his hand to take, and with a sigh he let a smile come through. "Carol really set us up, didn't she?"

You laughed along with him and decided then you wouldn't push him, and let him talk at his pace.

With your gear gathered the two of you found yourselves walking along the tree line in silence.

"M' sorry." Daryl kept his eyes on the ground where he walked, but with his pinkie he touched yours and hooked them together.

"When Carol brought ya to welcome me back after the huntin' I was confused. But when I felt yer curious stares instead of gettin' negative 'n scared I got.." He fell quiet, his hand pulling away from yours but you quickly grabbed it fully, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles.

But you stayed quiet, and just walked with his hand in yours.

After a long stretch of only hearing the ground crunch under your shoes Daryl stopped.

"S'where I stay when I go out each month." You stood a few feet away from a rock wall, overgrown with green and a small clearing in it. Looking around you there was no way of being seen here from any angle.

You also saw trees with torn off branches and what looked like deep claw marks. "Should'a shown ya 'fore last night."

You looked over at him and made sure he saw you smile. "You really think anything would have changed my mind?" Your hands came up to his face to hold his gaze on you, hoping he'd see the truth in your eyes.

"I know yer not lyin'. Ya haven't lied since we started talkin'." His hand moved to touch the small of your back, the other one gesturing at the overgrown wall. "C'mon."

Daryl had his knife ready as he moved past some hanging vines with your hand in his to keep you close.

The area was void of any dead, except for the picked clean bones covering the ground.

And the seemingly random pile of fabrics and signs of humans staying here.

He let go of your hand and let you wander around, staring at every little thing.

You kneeled down off to the side, getting up to move some vines to let in more light before walking back.

"You stay here?" Your fingers traced the print in the sand, glancing over at Daryl who was slowly stepping closer with calculated steps, like a true huntsman would to not startle an animal.

Quietly he leaned down next to you, and without saying a word moved his hand to the print in the loose sand.

The world went blurry around Daryl's hand as you watched it change. Muscles under the skin warping to reshape as flesh darkened and nails grew, and then fit perfectly into the indentation.

Daryl was hyper aware of everything around him, senses almost overwhelming him as he felt the worms crawl under the earth and heard the birds fly over outside. But even with his senses running on overdrive he couldn't find a single negative feeling coming off you.

You stared at his hand, now more a claw and it felt like everything suddenly made sense.

His strength, the way he heard things from so far off, his way of using terms that didn't make sense and that strange glow in his eyes.

Daryl's mind kept showing you running away, crying as he got closer each time.

Instead, there in the small cave like structure he called home once a month, you reached out your hand and placed it on top of his changed one.

"I don't regret being curious." Your shoulder rested against his, slowly easing into more contact. "And I'm still happy I went home with you, and came here to see this. To see you." Your weight was now entirely resting against his side, and for the first time since he sat down he dared to look at you.

You, who laid comfortably against his side.

"I'm honestly kinda glad you showed me this." You watched Daryl raise his brows at your words. "Suddenly your strange but interesting things make sense. Kinda obvious for someone to be so strong, or have glowy eyes when they're not human."

Your hand gave his a comfortable squeeze. "I hope you'll show me all of this you one day." With a finger pressed to his knuckles you moved your head to kiss his cheek.

"Close yer eyes fer a minute." Daryl moved to stand after he kissed your head, moving behind you.

Noises filled the air. Clothes being undone and landing on the floor.

And then cracking. Tearing and groaning. Coughing and growling, a thud that acompanied a shove against your backside that almost made you turn around, but je asked not to, and you were going to respect his wish.

Once the noises died down and all you heard was deep breathing you opened your eyes again, staring straight forward as you waited. Waited for something to signal it was okay to turn.

That something was a press against your shoulder, a press and a huff of air against your exposed neck.

From the edge of your vision a nose peeked, making you turn and stare right into his scarred eye.

"Wow." It caught you off guard and you stubled backwards just a small bit, staring and laughing at yourself for falling on your ass. "Okay. Big guy. That's ..wow."

You followed his movements as he walked into your view. And you recognised him. All ofrhe features that made Daryl look like himself changed along with him, from the dark, shaggy mane to the scar and beard. Even his tattoos were spots of darker fur, especially clear on the lighter areas.

But, still..

"Wait. So Carol knows about," you wildly gestured at his entire self. "you know, this. She's seen you? And what about the butcher? That comment of hers, she knew."

You gasped in realisation. "You were testing me! You could hear us, you were there on purpose oh my god."

Daryl only sat and listened to your rambling. If anyone had asked him how he envisioned this scene to go, he would have never guessed this to be the way. Not that he was complaining or anything, he liked this.

He liked you, and you liked him too, even in this shape.

With a tap to your hand and his paw covering his eyes he asked you to look away once more, changing back to his human self and getting dressed before coming to press a kiss to your temple. "So, ya sure this's all fine?"

You stood up to join him at eye level. "You're either the most dense man ever, or are still convinced you don't deserve love just because you're different." Your deadpan look spoke more than needed.

"Yeah, alrigh'. Sorry." He shook his head in apology.

"You literally just turned into a goddamn werewolf." You paused. "Wait. That is correct, right? You're a werewolf? I mean, I don't wanna assume and be wrong, or offensive.."

He kept his head low but nodded, telling you were correct in your observations.

You stepped into his space and peppered his face with kisses, grabbing his hands to fake a sense of chaining him to you and it worked. He let himself melt into you and accept your affection.

Your love.

"Let's go home?"

With a nod he stepped back go retrieve your items. "Yeah. Home's good."

The walk home was silent, only sporadic and very random questions with short and simple answers.

Only when he dropped you off at home he spoke full sentences again. "I wan' ya t'move in with me."

You shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, okay. But we gotta clean the place first."

With a nod he agreed and let you go for the day. Only a week later moving the last of your items into his home after strategically cleaning and rearranging his home to accomodate two people.

That night, in bed all cuddled up together after a shower, Daryl pressed his lips against your jaw and uttered three simple words.

"I love ya."

A/N: Okay yeah damn that became way longer than I originally planned. But it wad fun! Hope you enjoyed it~

[cinhomi]

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: boyfriend's best friend Hwang Hyunjin x fem reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you should've left your boyfriend sooner considering the man of your dreams, his best friend, has always been there for you... but the faithful event you were hoping for finally occurs and you find yourself at his house, in his arms, in his bed.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst?, smut, fluff, aquaintances to lovers

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cheating (but not really, you'll see), reader is in a toxic relationship, explicit descriptions of sexual acts, unprotected sex (it's sexy but use protection babes), fingering, pretty vanilla.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4K

I have a thing for sex while it rains, it seems... and like this I post something after months. I'll work this storyline in the future too for Hyunjin, but for now, enjoy!

It's strange how sometimes we believe to be in the right place to later find out we were living in a lie, a product of our fervid imagination, just to not accept reality and the fact that life, or even our past self, played a good and structured not-so-funny prank on us.

These lies we tell ourselves most of the time are a response to our awful experiences, but they can become harmful in numerous types of ways, and we should learn that instead of letting us be tempted by sweet beliefs. When we find ourselves facing reality it's hard to accept it, it's ugly, but ugly things are part of life and we should try and accept them nonetheless, they may reveal themselves as lessons or the best things that happened to us, with various meanings to that.

What pisses people off the most is the "waste of time". And that's how you feel too, like the rest of humankind, angry because you wasted time. You would very gladly prefer to be in the denial stage of the whole thing but it's so evident that you can't even pretend to be doubtful, to question what you saw, to give him a chance to explain himself.

The car is still cold even if you already reached the destination that popped in your mind right after what happened, salty tears adorning your eyes as they cross your freezing cheeks, collecting under your chin, falling on your scarf. The same damn scarf he gifted you after your first two weeks of dating, the one you didn't even like at all, the color you hated, a dull pattern over it… the urge to pull down the car window and throw it outside in the middle of the parking lot soon becomes reality. Wind starts to rise a bit, and you see it dance on the wet concrete for a while before a car passes over it and plasters it on the ground.

Ironic, right? You feel a bit bad after the impulsive gesture, but he didn't hesitate to make you feel the same, so, "screw it".

You shouldn't even be here. You should go to your own best friend, sitting on her way too low couch with its broken springs and cry your eyes out as she yells at you her usual "I told you so!" and "You're an idiot, I knew it from the start!" even if what you really need is comfort, and not to be scolded like a twelve years old while she offers you chocolates and tissues like in some chiché romcom.

That's why Hyunjin's place is just few meters and five floors away from you now. You're actually hesitant to get out the car but when you see your boyfriend's text appear on your screen, asking where are you, it's suddenly not so difficult to take your things and rush to take the elevator, and when you send Hyunjin a message telling him you're in front of his apartment he's quick to open the door. He doesn't say a thing, he doesn't even dare to, he already knows.

He delicately takes your hand in his and guides you inside with a saddened smile, his eyes soft as they watch you attentively trying to search for your tears. God, he wants to kiss them all away, he never wants to see you like this ever again, but he thinks it's probably not the last time… is it? Either way, he'll do anything he can to make the redness of your eyes disappear.

"Go sit on the couch petal, relax for me, hm?" he says in a hushed tone to not provoke your impending outburst. When you're finally hugged by his cushions you feel his presence behind you, his hands going on your shoulders to free you from your heavy coat and bag that he places on his forearm. When he reaches for your scarf his fingers are suddenly met with the cold skin of your neck and a startled "oh!" escapes from him because of the unexpected touch, making you giggle. If only you knew how his heart starts beating faster whenever he hears you like this…

"Where is your scarf? You always wear it, were you in such a rush to leave it at your place?" he's now lowered near your face, breath tickling your cheek as he adjusts your jumper on your shoulders ー the stained one you only wear at home, you didn't even change, how embarrassing. He touches you like frail porcelain and little bumps start to rise on your skin where traces of his touch linger, you wish his fingerprints could bruise your skin.

"I threw it in the parking lot…" you explain, looking at him trying to not make your lips touch while doing so.

A laugh that comes from his chest slowly builds up as he lifts himself and reluctantly distances from your face to go place your belongings on the hanger at the entrance. If only he knew how your heart twists in excitement whenever you hear him like this…

Hyunjin doesn't come back to you immediately. He always makes sure you have enough time to think by yourself first, to gather your words, to decide if you want to cry or yell, and then he sits beside you and goes along with anything you've come up with. It's always been like this until today, every time you came to his place after something happened between you and his best friend, every time he had to gather your broken pieces and try to put you together again. He doesn't know he's always done that beautifully though, making a breathtaking mosaic out of you, making you so splendid and wonderful anyone could say he's your creator.

You hear a distant rustling in the kitchen, the clicking of the bottles in the fridge as he closes it with a thud, two glasses colliding it seems, and his slippers sliding on the floor, approaching you.

"You're lucky petal, I have your favorite today." he proceeds to place the glasses on the way too elegant coffee table and pour the drink with all the calmness in the world. Time with Hyunjin stops. You think that every second spent with him is never wasted.

"I like this clip, it compliments your hair color." he says suddenly, snapping you out of your trance. How could he notice such a thing?

"Really? It's the first time I wear it…" you still mumble a bit, too shaken to let your voice take its natural timbre. Hyunjin laughs again, handing you the drink and carefully sitting so as to not spill everything on his expensive carpet. His body is completely facing yours, knee against knee.

"It's not true!" Hyunjin takes a sip and giggles at your confused expression.

"You had it the first time we met, too. It was perfect with your dress and necklace. Do you really not remember? You looked beautiful…"

What Hyunjin refers to is a random saturday evening of autumn. What day it was, what you were wearing, what you did before meeting in front of the restaurant, you can't remember… but what you can vividly recall is the stinging sensation of the first cold breeze of the season on your cheeks, how crunchy multicolored leaves swirled on the sidewalk, and the city lights beginning to be turned on a bit earlier than usual. Now that you think about it, it was around this period. You remember what perfume you wore, paying attention to what type of impression you wanted to give to your boyfriend's group of friends that you were about to meet for the first time, and you even remember what mascara you decided to use.

But what remained tattooed on your bones the most are the first ten seconds of Hwang Hyunjin taking possess of your vision, because you felt incredibly sick.

If you close your eyes and concentrate you can almost feel the same emotions, when your stomach swirled like it was a washing machine, your head light, and your legs almost giving in making you trip while standing still.

You felt incredibly guilty, disgusted with yourself, disappointed, a monster. Why the hell your first thought was "he's my soulmate" and not something along the lines of "nice, my boyfriend's best friend" you still don't know. Call it destiny, call it sixth sense, you immediately tried to suppress it all.

It didn't help that Hyunjin's slender fingers delicately took your hand to kiss your knuckles with his oh, oh so beautiful lips like an ambassador of chivalry itself, his siren eyes looking up at you sweetly but confidently, making you blush like crazy ー you later blamed your flustered expression to the restaurant's excessive heating.

On top of that, your boyfriend decided to sit at your side leaving Hyunjin in front of you, so you had his ridiculously handsome face in sight for the whole night as you ate your stupid california rolls and tried to elegantly slurp your noodles ー for as much as something like that is even possible.

You talked, a lot, even if you felt your face heat up at every strangely seductive giggling sound he made together with the little bumps his shoes would land on your naked ankles, toying with your heels from time to time. You had so much in common, and after that you only felt complete when he was near you.

Your boyfriend did catch on with the new dynamic though, so unfortunately considering how jealous and a bit possessive he is, you and Hyunjin didn't see each other as often as you expected after that, but you really didn't grasp that it was because he wanted you apart at first, just a series of unfortunate coincidences.

Hyunjin parted from you with a tight hug, lingering his hands on the smaller of your back, adjusting your shawl over your coat and twirling a strand of your hair behind your ear, the moment never fully leaving your memory. He was… perfect, really just perfect, and you couldn't help but feel nauseous when you got in the car with your boyfriend to let him accompany you to your apartment, the thought of another man being more suited for you making you feel like you were cheating. You only felt relieved when you talked about all his friends during the ride and he revealed that Hyunjin is "a bit of a player, y'know, he flirts with everyone and he has those french manners, but he's always been like this." so you thought that maybe your feelings would slowly fade… but they always, always rested down the bottom of your heart, even if you pushed them away forcefully, almost violently.

No one knows you two meet up from time to time now, because one time you found yourself crying in a corner on his shouler. No one knows that you always seem happy and carefree only because you talk with Hyunjin, because he comforts you when you need it without complaining. Not that it needs to be a secret, but you both are well aware that it may result suspicious to meet with your boyfriend's best friend late at night, best friend's girlfriend from his side.

And the fact that you two always seem to attract each other like magnets, so close, with instant connection, it doesn't let thoughts stray further from the idea of something tender existing between the two of you, everyone can see it.

It's just that it's prohibited. Or, to say it better, you were too caught in your lies to even contemplate the idea of leaving your boyfriend and Hyunjin simply didn't want to betray his "friend". But when you started to message him asking for advice, when you later had long calls together, when you crumbled in his arms crying almost weekly, he wasn't so sure about having a best friend anymore.

"I… you really think I was beautiful?"

Your question comes from the heart. The mixture of the memories of that night and his proximity makes heat rise on your face, shyness visible from the automatic action of your teeth catching your bottom lip and your gaze straying from his face to linger on the glass in your hands. The bubbles of the drink fizzle on the surface and for a moment or two that's all that can be heard in the room.

"You're always beautiful, y/n. I told you many times." he says cautiously, putting down everything to wrap his hands around your wrist.

"I don't know how he doesn't make you feel like you are, I don't know why he treats you like this but, petal, you're an incredible woman," he lowers his head to look into your eyes as he tries to explain himself further, "smart and strong. He's an asshole and you should stop doing this to yourself."

Does he know? Does he know what your boyfriend did? Probably not. Hyunjin would never hurt you, he would've immediately told you. You want to make sure though, in case everything that involves Hyunjin is a lie too.

"Why are you his friend then? Why do you keep coming to our house and have dinner as we fake not knowing each other like we really do? Why do you keep on hanging out with him? If you really think he's terribleー"

"Because I want to protect you."

His reply is fast, cutting you off. His stare bores into your eyes and drinks in all of your feelings, like he can see them displayed in front of him. A few seconds of silence fill the room and you suddenly gulp down your drink until the last drop, sprinting up from your seat and escaping his intoxicating presence that's almost engulfing you.

Hyunjin doesn't say a thing. He waits, he can sense that something big happened this time and fuck if he's going to kill his "friend" after this. You were never this silent, you usually would storm inside and throw yourself on him… for as much as he dislikes seeing you like this, he's grateful for your presence, for the feel of your body against his, the trust you put into him. He doesn't do all this just to be a rebound, he already knows part of him is yours and vice versa, so he's simply waiting. Everyone considers him being a romantic man, but really, he just believes in destiny. When Hyunjin first saw you every cell in his body started to boil, goosebumps rising down his nape, the world destroyed itself and was reborn before him, it's impossible that it didn't matter at all.. That was the day he realized he didn't know what "love" meant before.

He watches your silhouette get near the big windows that face the road, little droplets of water striking them. The sound of the rain reaches your ears only when you notice the detail, and soon you see how much water is actually coming down from the sky, your scarf already soaked and dirty laying alone between various cars. You take a deep breath, thinking about your next words, a way to tell Hyunjin what happened without sounding pathetic as you concentrate on the mesmerizing foliage outside, reds and oranges and yellows decorating the city landscape.

"He accidentally left his phone at home since he rushed to his office, I don't exactly know why…" you started to explain, hands fidgeting with your rings, heavy breath obstructing your throat, "and I heard a notification so I went to check right?"

Hyunjin slowly gets up and approaches you, his warmth radiating behind you now, hands resting on your shoulders and caressing them as he listens and slowly gets closer and closer until he's hugging you.

"So, petal? What was it about? Did you find porn?" he tries to guess, but when you shake your head as a 'no' a cold chill goes through his back. Oh, oh no…

"It… it was a message, a very sexual one, coming from a saved contact, I don't even remember the name." you pout, looking down almost in shame even if you're not the responsible one. Maybe it's the shame of having a cheater as a partner.

"I opened the chat Hyunie. They've been sexting for months and from what I could grasp they even met few times…" you can feel tears start to form on your waterline again, a deep ache inside your chest rises when you finally say it out loud. One thing was to acknowledge it, another was to tell everything to the man you've secretly been in love with for a year already. What were you doing exactly all this time?

"Am I really not good enough for anyone, Hyunie? She's… she's so different from me… Am I really a disaster as he says? Why would he do that to me? I've always been a good girlfriend, I even ignored all those mean words and his being immature and the shitty sex!! I put aside my needs to make him happy thinking I was the problem!" you turn around to face him and you're met with his serious expression.

You expected to find him at least slightly surprised by your sudden show of emotions, but he's calm, he radiates calmness. Hyunjin sighs and looks in the distance behind you for a second, blinking ever so slowly, his touch traveling up to cup your cheeks and wipe your angry tears with his thumbs.

That's the final stroke, the gesture that makes you sob and bury your face in his chest to hide.

You aren't broken yet, it's almost as if Hyunjin is physically holding you together. He's trying to smooth the new sharp edges that formed around your heart to not let it be isolated, while hugging you he's working hard to let it be still approachable to receive and give love, he's trying with all he has to prevent a horrible plague that's trying to approach you.

You hold his shirt between your hands, tightly, you're afraid you'll ruin it but you can't stop, you need to ground yourself and try to be strong, but it's so hard to not let him sway you around the room, lullying you as he hushes you and lets his fingers comb your messy hair.

"Leave him."

You freeze.

Did he really say that? Hyunjin never said it out loud. He did make you understand his vision about the situation, he did suggest it with hidden phrases, but so explicitly…

"It's time to let him go, don't you think?" he presses his lips on your forehead, continuing to mumble his real feelings, "You don't need someone who mistreats you petal. You deserve better." he closes them in a kiss that leaves a mark on your soul, making you gasp.

"Hyunjin?" it takes a lot of strength to look up at him. His eyes seem less gentle, brows forming a frown that's not his usual playful one, a bit scary even. The mole under his eye is contracted and his mouth is curved in disgust, just enough for you to understand he's furious.

"Why don’t we put an end to this farce? He didn't even deserve you in the first place, you don't love him, stop doing this to yourself y/n. There's someone who's the right one, for sure…" his tone is desperate, but you want him to say it clearly. You can't help it, if it's to be sure or to satisfy a need you've been having for a while you don't know, but you want him to say it loud and clear.

You know that if he says it now everything will change and it'll be scary as fuck, but if that's a premise for a better life… maybe it's not as scary as you think, it's Hyunjin after all, the man who's looking at you in adoration.

"And what man could possibly want me at this point?" your voice is shaky and uncertain as you tease the confession out of him.

Hyunjin looks away and smiles, a bit frustrated. He wipes another tear away from your cheek and then places his hands on your waist.

"Me?" he fakes the question, smiling softly; "Be mine y/n."

Breath gets caught in your throat as he finally says it. It's wrong that you waited for it, it's wrong that your first instinct is to say yes without thinking about it.

"Hyunjin Iー"

"Ooh don't say you don't reciprocate, petal. I know you too well." he interrupts you, his hold a little tighter. Hyunjin tilts his head to the side, few strands of black raven hair following the motion and slightly covering his eyes. He's beautiful now, even more than in any other moment you've ever been with him. Hyunjin is the most beautiful man in the world and he wants you.

Your phone starts ringing. It's a strange moment to realize your ringtone is kind of cringe, cutting the tension weirdly… but you can't laugh, not right now. Both you and Hyunjin know who it is.

He's right. You should put an end to all this and start to think for yourself, about what you really want, need. This is not wrong. To love yourself isn't wrong, and Hyunjin makes you feel like the person you want to be.

"Do you want to pick up?" Hyunjin takes his hand under your chin again and directs it up to make your eyes meet his, gaze frenetic as he tries to not look at your tempting lips. Everything will depend on what you decide now. And you think quickly, under pressure, and you don't know if it's a good idea or not but you shake your head and hold him tighter, hiding again.

"Y/n, please look at me…"

The phone eventually stops ringing and silence overwhelms you when you can hear his fast heartbeat right against your ear. And it's because of you, it's for you, your heart starts to adapt to his and you almost feel pain in your chest. It's too much, too much…

Ah, that's it.

You get on your tiptoes to pull him down by his collar and make your lips crash together.

Hyunjin drags you towards him as if you kissed thousands of times before, immediately, tongue slipping into your mouth as you grant him access, making it run along yours. You hold his shoulders trying to search for your lost balance and he's quick to walk you towards his bedroom, he isn't even slightly hesitant.

The desperate sighs you two let out add into the sound of your first kiss; it's a relief, something you didn't imagine to need so badly. Hyunjin pushes you further into the room until your legs meet the mattress and you fall on it guided by him, a knee starting to press beside you as he cradles on the bed on top of you. He can't stop kissing you.

Hyunjin clumsily reaches the lamp on the nightstand to turn it on and oh, oh if this is even better than any fantasy he's ever had… seeing you panting with that flustered expression, your legs already crossing beneath him, jumper half lifted up, your hair all disheveled since you quickly reached for your clip and threw it somewhere in the room. You just look breathtaking in his eyes, even more than any other moment he's ever thought about it. He has to let you know. You didn't think he'd turn on the light but maybe you can put aside your shyness for once if it means having this type of gaze reserved to you.

Your hands try to reach his shirt to pull him out of his trance and he resumes his kissing, hands flying on your sides as they slowly, painfully slowly slide down until he's hooking your pants. Hyunjin lowers down to press chaste kisses on the little part of your cleavage that is exposed, going down to your stomach, then your belly, until he darts his tongue out to lick a stripe just above your groin, leaving a longer kiss there while he proceeds to undress you.

The way you feel embarrassed when you remember you're wearing plain, white cotton panties… but it's honestly sending him haywire. The fact that you didn't expect to end up like this, a confirmation that you didn't plan anything to happen, it's making Hyunjin even harder in his confines. You're so wet your juices dampened the fabric, making it almost transparent, and he sighs at the faint outline of your cunt now puffy and pulsing… and he still has to touch you properly.

Hyunjin is honestly the same. You can't see it but waves of excitement run over him so violently he physically trembles and his legs give in from time to time.

“I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't dare to come back to him…” it's whisperes, almost as if he's accidentally thinking out loud but it makes you clench. Hyunjin's fingers start to tease you on top of the fabric, seeing the wet patch getting larger and larger. You can't believe this part of him exists… how many things do you still have to learn about him?

Hyunjin keeps on touching you there but this time he starts flicking, snapping his fingers where you're most sensitive, the tingles that start to make you jolt are strong and they make your breath sharp.

“H-Hyunjin…” your stuttering voice slightly higher as you call for him, he rolls his eyes back.

“Hyunjin please…” you can't help but pant, wrapping your hand around his forearm to try and make him slow down. Is this what those stupid magazines talked about? That sex feels better when you do it with someone you love? So fucking true.

Hyunjin feels on cloud nine. He starts paying attention on your neck tenderly but still with open-mouthed kisses as his fingers subtly slide your panties to the side. “Yeah petal, let me hear you, let me…” his words get lost as he concentrates. Ah, it's uncomfy for him. Hyunjin lifts your legs and carelessly slides your underwear off with a hiss, his eyes closing like they've been blinded by the vision of the Virgin Mary for a second, then maniacally staring at your bare cunt, digits caressing your wet folds mere seconds before plunging into your entrance.

You can only let out a choked moan and push your head back onto his soft cushions, that smells just like him. You're completely surrounded by his presence when his scent is all around you, his fingers move smoothly to work you open and his mouth is now latched around your nipple, his forehead pushing your jumper further up. When the hell did he…

“Is it good?” his voice displaying signs of fatigue, urgency and need buried deep inside him. You know his fingers are long but God if they can reach otherworldly places. It's not the in-and-out motion but the brushing of your g-spot that makes your legs close around his sides and poke his ribcage with your knees; he doesn't mind, your tits keep him occupied enough to make him mindlessly keep going. Hyunjin decides that prefers your chest covered in love marks over any art piece he's ever seen these past years, so nothing can disturb his work in progress. Maybe the work itself.

“‘S good Hyunie, Hyun…” it's difficult to breathe, it's difficult to think straight as the bumps of his fingers touch your insides so precisely, as if you've always done this and he already knew your body by memory.

“Did his fingers ever make you feel like this? Hm?”

The question makes you sigh along with a moan. You shake your head.

“Did he ever kiss you like I do?” and Hyunjin kisses you again as the movement of his fingers fastens. His teeth catch your bottom lip and his tongue slides against yours before he sucks it, drool making it shine where you two meet; passionate and euphoric, it feels like experimenting fireworks. You follow his lips when he detaches, but he just smiles and starts pressing his thumb on your bare clit. “Tell me, petal.”

“N-no…”

Hyunjin feels it, the way you start clenching around him, hard. He almost can't move anymore. So he whispers, just above the squelching of his palm spreading your wetness.

“Wanna go to Heaven with me, y/n?”

How, how can you say no? You need Hyunjin, even more than oxygen right now, he already has you completely. Your hands hurry on the button somehow miraculously keeping his pants together, and you reach his zip and pull the fly, that struggles to slide down ー he's too full.

“Wanna try how a real man makes you feel?”

You nod almost too eagerly and he chuckles within a whiffle. Hyunjin deprives you of his fingers despite your whines of protest and spreads your juices all over his face, tongue swirling on his hand. A low groan comes out from him, his touch moving to your hips where he squeezes, plush skin bending under his grip. It's all in contrast with the look in his eyes as he stares at your face, your reactions, as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

You're so distracted that when you feel something poke your inner thigh you gasp, and can only stare… his cock springs free from his confines altogether, long, slim and leaking, underside vein pulsating under the pads of his fingers as he pumps himself few times, precum dripping on your groin. Hyunjin's eyebrows are knitted together as he grinds between your legs, his still sticky hand moving your lower body closer so that he lifts you back up to wrap his arms around you, hugging you ever so gently.

His full lips kiss your cleavage and he curses under his breath because of his choice to not take all your clothes off but there's not much time anymore. You close your fists on his shirt, the lines of the fabric changing their shape under your hold while you wait for him, subtly writhing impatiently.

“Hyun please hurry…” not once in your life you've been this desperate for a man to fuck you. It's not because of the wait, not because you're horny, it's just that it's Hyunjin.

“Say it.” his eyes are darker, but they shine with the yellow-ish light in the room. He clears your forehead by adjusting your hair away.

You know what he's doing and it's nothing different from what you did before, in the living room, so you're more than willing to satisfy his request. You try to regain a bit of composure and steady your breath before speaking up, his head twitching together with every movement of yours.

"I want you, Hyunjin. I want you, please.”

A big bright smile spreads on his face as his head drops low, in disbelief. Hyunjin didn't imagine those words would have such a strong effect on him but here he is, blushing and trying to hold back a giggle. When he looks back at you he's serious again, eyes piercing into yours.

“I'm going in, hm? I wanna hear you scream my name through it all. Is that clear petal?”

What you'd give to hear him call you petal until the end of time, he says it and it's like dripping honey, he says it and you melt. The warm pool of pleasure in your belly tightens again as you say a shaky “yes”. You're his delicate, fragile petal.

His tip rests just before your entrance for a second while he takes a deep breath, breaching you gently. It's not a big stretch but his veins are already making your eyelids flutter and your lips part. Inch by inch, Hyunjin makes sure you feel his cock going deep, concern showing on your features as he doesn't come to an halt. He does, eventually, but the time he took to do it seemed eternal. “Oh my- Hyunie-”

“Bet my dick feels better than his,” he smirks between the kisses he's leaving under your jawline, “I bet mine's longer too.”

His comments only add fuel to the fire. He's bigger, he's better, the curve of his cock lands exactly on the spot that makes you black out. As you remember that you're technically still in a relationship your phone rings again. It's a distant sound, it's in another room, covered by yours and Hyunjin's sighs and moans, but he hears it too. Hyunjin stops every movement, hips against yours as he's fully inside you. He lifts himself up just enough to check on you. You look at him too.

You don't exchange any word, there's no need to, because you both arch your lips upwards and meet mid-air for another kiss, tender but messy as he moves backwards to get a starting point to his thrusts. The ringtone eventually dies making room to the faint dripping of the rain outside.

You feel warm, squeezing his cock just right and he's sure he will never let you go, never let you change your mind.

“Pussy ‘s so tight petal, was made for me, ‘m sure,” and he starts moving with consistency, picking up a pleasant rhythm, “you're so fucking perfect.”

His necklace is cold against your skin as he keeps on holding you flush against him, as well as your rings leaving icy lines on his back when your hands slip under his shirt and hold onto his shoulder blades. Hyunjin throbs inside you, drawing loud moans out of you that someone will for sure complain about. He thrusts harder, faster, every second that passes and you can only call for his name, yours being whispered by him against your skin making you shiver.

“Waited so long, so fucking long-” a guttural sound interrupting him, “since that time at the club, wanted to make you mine.” he mumbles, words hardly making sense but you decipher them anyway and when you realize what he's talking about the confused memories of it flood your mind. You, swaying your hips in front of him, grinding your ass on his crotch following the music; Hyunjin's hands right under your breasts guiding you together with him, his breath fanning on your neck, drying your tears completely as those three drinks made your head light enough to not care about any problem you complained about minutes before. It was just you and Hyunjin, all this would've happened sooner if a series of coincidences didn't happen.

“You would've let me take you in the bathroom, isn't that right?” Hyunjin asks, not losing concentration even for a second. “I wanted to bring you here, and fuck the sadness away. Every time, y/n, I wanted to tell you to forget him and be with me.”

You feel him stretch his arm between your bodies, and you feel your swollen bud stimulated again, you both whine against each other.

“‘M with you now Hyunie, want only you, ‘m yours babe.”

He's so fast now, the snapping of his hips moving you up and down the mattress… your words affect him on a visceral level.

“I choose you, I'll leave him for you-”

“Fuck!” he's close, so, so close and your walls tightening more and more and more are making him go crazy. Little beads of sweat decorate his forehead, a caramel-like smell coming from him as the crown of his head dampens and some hair stick to his forehead.

His tip keeps abusing your sweet spot, the kiss you share is feverish, your nails dig into his skin and his hold bruises your soft one. Both your bellies contract and before you can process it you're coming, white pois pattern creating over your blinding vision. You say his name out loud, dragging it together with your last moan as the hardest orgasm ever washes over you. Hyunjin pulls out just in time, copious white ropes of cum landing on your stomach like dripping art. Hyunjin loses track of space and time for a few moments as he comes down from his high, then takes you close to him when he lays next to you. Your heavy breath fills every other sound in your ears as you get comfortable hiding in his muscular chest. Your body spasms, all energy left your body already and your chest rises and falls frantically.

Hyunjin caresses your cheek and kisses your hair. It's peaceful. You just had sex with your boyfriend's best friend and it feels peaceful. It starts to feel a bit cold so he grabs the soft sheets near him and covers both of you.

“When will you tell him, petal?”

The question floats in the air for a while. You start playing with his necklace, making it dance between your fingers. He starts to worry a bit, when you don't answer him, but he decides to be patient, like always.

“After we eat something, I'll send him a text.” you seem resolute, and he's convinced. “Can I stay here tonight?”

He's a bit taken aback, his eyes narrowing in surprise: “Wasn't it obvious? You'll stay here from now on anyway.” and he says it so naturally, you think he's thought about this moment a lot… it makes you smile.

Hyunjin rolls to the side briefly, taking some tissues to wipe yours and his stomach since his sticky cum was still there, and kisses the tip of your nose adjusting your jumper back to its original place before sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his phone, after finally freeing himself of his shirt. His back is slender yet defined, long, his spine making a beautiful curve. Your eyes travel from his nape to his glutes, the ones of a dancer. There's a doubt still in the back of your mind, you need to make it disappear.

“Are you… sad, that you can't be friends with him anymore?”

He doesn't even bother looking at you to answer, he keeps scrolling on the delivery app searching for something you may want to eat, the words he's about to say seeming obvious to him.

“We haven't been friends for a while already. I understood he's not the guy I met years ago, he changed, and I don't like to be around him anymore. Don't worry petal, it's not entirely because of you, I already wanted to part from him but you came into our lives so I endured it some more to stay with you… and it was worth it.” one of his hands shifts position behind him and taps the covers to signal for you to hold it. Your fingers interlace and he looks at you over his shoulder, slowly turning around, his body twisting slightly as he leans back again and kisses you sweetly yet still with some need.

Your breath is now steady, you're relaxed and it feels like Heaven, just like he promised.

"Pizza?"

You giggle and he follows.

“I love you y/n. I love you.”

[shotmrmiller]

PAUSE! OH MY GOD. writing a soap smut got me thinking. 

As a medic in base, you see the 141 guys all the time. Whether in passing or because they get injured, you’re always interacting with them. Your particular lack of response at Ghost’s irritated glare after reprimanding him for being unable to keep his stitches intact during training is what solidified your friendship with Johnny— what Soap tells you to call him.

Every time Johnny goes out, he likes to drag you along and this is where you notice peculiar interactions between him and Ghost.

The way Ghost gives Soap Johnny his full attention when he’s speaking, turning his entire body to face him, even if it’s something completely trivial. Or how Johnny stresses over Ghost who’s injured on your med table and Ghost will comfort him. When going on a mission, if one goes, so does the other.

You wonder if there's something else going on.

—

You get your answer.

One day you’re knocking on Johnny’s door because it wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried to weasel out of a physical. You’d think getting shot would hurt more than a vaccine but here you are— about to twist his scottish ear off. The door finally opens, and you barge in because you aren’t about to cause a scene in the middle of the hallway when you freeze. 

Ghost is in Johnny's room, lying on the bed. If looks could kill, Ghost’s would’ve leveled the base. And he’s naked under the sheets— if that tree trunk-sized bulge is what you think it is. It doesn't even look hard. Bloody hell. 

You shift your gaze towards Soap, and your eyes drop— he's clad in nothing but a towel that hangs dangerously low on his hips. 

Massive. These men just walkin’ round with weapons in their pants.

Shaking off those thoughts, you shift your attention to his face.

“Meet me at the clinic in 10 or so help me god, Johnny.” and walk out the door.

You hear a muffled "Yes ma'am" , and a hiss escapes your lips.

That cocky smile Johnny had means he definitely saw you ogling them. 

—

A week passes and it’s a friday. You can’t wait to lock yourself in your barracks room and watch movies the entire weekend— you plan to start as soon as you're off the clock.

And then other medics twist your arm into going out for drinks.

Now you find yourself seated at a table in a lively bar, indulging in shots of tequila. As you glance around, your eyes catch sight of Soap and Ghost standing near the bartender. It appeared that some woman is talking to Johnny and he has a polite, detached smile on his face. Always too kind to strangers.

Then she starts caressing his thigh.

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. Right in front of Ghost’s salad? You lock eyes with Ghost and he looks murderous. Jesus.

You usually don't stick your nose in others' business, but if you don’t intervene, Ghost might actually kill her in her sleep. Besides, tequila has always made you bold.

With a confident stride, you make your way towards Johnny and remove that woman’s hand before settling yourself snugly on his lap— and you wrap his arms around your waist.

“And who is this?” you ask Soap, but the girl questions back.

“No. Who are you?” 

Bitch. 

Curling your upper lip, you answer, “I’m the one he comes in every night hoping it takes. Now leave before I make you,” completely ignoring the massive bulge pressing up into your arse.

She looks at you with a bewildered expression, but doesn't move so you finish off with, "Try it. Just a warning though, it'll be hard to fight when the fight ain't fair."

You cock your head to the side with a taunting expression and the woman scoffs before walking away. Noticing she left her almost full drink behind, you give it to the bartender to toss in the trash. She's just gonna have to get another one.

Your act comes to an end, so you shift to stand up— and realize that the arms encircling your waist tighten, keeping you on his lap. His clothed cock.

“Ye didnae think we’d let ye go after yer little show, did ye?” 

Unless Johnny’s speaking french, he just said we. You'd be nervous but you aren't about to decline what could be the best sex of your life. The want you feel in Soap's pants has you riding a certain high— it makes you feel confident.

Grabbing onto the edge of the bartop, you swivel the stool you're on to face Ghost. 

“And this okay with you? I wouldn’t be stepping on any toes, or nothin’?”

Ghost swiftly lifts you from Johnny's lap and places you onto his own.

“Does this answer your question?” and draws you closer before grinding his erection against you.

And it sure as hell does. Slapping the counter, you ask for some water. If this night is going to end with you sandwiched between these two, you want to remember all of it.

reader's a boss ass bitch. GET IT CHILE.

[coco-loco-nut]

I Hate It Here

Pairing: Max x Sister Reader

Summary: Max takes a stand for his sister

TW: jos verstappen, mentioned abuse, depression, mentions of death, mentions of an affair

requests open masterlist ttpd masterlist

——————

With Max gone, you were the one subject to the wrath of Jos Verstappen, especially when you stopped karting after a couple years. So while your brother was off winning grand prix after grand prix, you were continually reminded that you aren’t good enough, that you were the dud of a child.

“Maxie, tell me a story,” you call your older brother in tears one night, you don’t blame him for the fact that you are a failure. You love your older brother more than anything.

With a heavy sigh, Max dives into a made up story, like he was a poet trapped inside the body of a race car driver, except he is an awful storyteller. He does but doesn’t want to know the BS your lame excuse for a father told you.

Max is your best, and only friend, your consolation prize for surviving this far. You stopped really leaving home years ago, only leaving to go to the grocery store. Even to your job, you were just another remote employee.

Max only ever wants the best for his sister, you haven’t seen Victoria since you were so young that you don’t really even know if she actually exists, so he is all you have. Victoria doesn’t really remember you either, seeing as how you were the child of an affair. Max always tries to bring you to races as a lucky charm, but your response is always the same ‘i don’t believe in good luck, maybe next time’. It’s like you are scared to leave home, safer in the comfort of the walls you’ve only ever known.

You pull out your headphones and listen to music, tuning out the world. You hate it here, you hate your father, but you only know of one way to escape. You close your eyes and go to the little paradise in your mind. You read about something similar when you were a kid from a book Max you. It sits on your nightstand, the spine worn and frayed from years of use.

That’s similar to how Max finds you when he arrives a couple weeks later. By now he is used to finding you in that state, you spend most of your free time in your own mind.

“Y/n? Where do you go? In your mind,” Max asks, laying beside you in your bed.

“A little garden, you need a key to get in though,” you say, a little dazed.

“And how would one get a key?” He asks further, trying to keep you engaged.

“There is only one, mine,” you reply, moving to grab your headphones again. Max quickly, but gently takes them.

“Charles was asking about you. He wanted to know how you were, since he hasn’t seen you since I joined F3,” Max continues, you just look at him, an oddity in your dark room.

“Charles?” You ask and Max nods.

“My friend, you thought he had a silly accent, and thought he was cute,” Max elaborates, searching your face to see a look of recognition. You just shrug.

“We used to play games, travel back in time to different decades. You loved the 1800s,” Max says, not ready to give up.

“I was a debutante,” you whisper causing Max to smile brightly. You just shake your head, you read once that nostalgia is a minds trick. “I bet I hated it, it is always freezing in the palace,” you say, unknowingly giving Max a glimpse into the secret escapes in your mind. In your fantasies you travel everywhere even to space. Secretly you love it, but you are more than content to stay at home, even if you hate it here.

“Come to the FIA Prize Giving with me, pretend it’s one of your fantasies,” Max says, you nod your head, already away in another world where only the gentle survive.

“Max? Am I going to die?” You ask out of the blue, well out of the blue for Max. He doesn’t know how to respond before you turn back into yourself. He stands up, watching you for a minute. You stayed out of your depression a minute longer than usual, a small win for him.

“Leave your poor sister alone,” Jos says, Max just glares at him. Jos is the man who made you like this and Max will never forgive himself for it.

“Y/n is coming with me to Monaco, for good. Since you don’t care about her, I will take care of her,” Max says, prepared to stand his ground.

“Whatever, if you want to tolerate her worthlessness, that’s up to you,” Jos waves his hand, one less failure in his home.

“Don’t call her that,” Max grits his teeth. He was going to wait a couple days, but perhaps it’s necessary to expedite it here.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s your problem now,” Jos walks away. Max returns to your bedroom, getting a suitcase from your closet. Only the essentials for now, the rest can be picked up tomorrow. He packs up as much as he can in an hour before somehow convincing you to go with him to his hotel. You just stare out the window of the car as he drives, clearly uncomfortable. Max gives you the bedroom and takes the pull out couch. He immediately dials Charles.

“Max? What happened?” Charles can hear the exhaustion in Max’s voice.

“I’m bringing Y/n back to Monaco with me, she’s basically being left to rot by Jos. She’s lonely and bitter, but swears she’s fine. Y/n gets lost in her mind on purpose, there’s this fantasy land that she saves the good parts -her romanticism- in her mind. I’m losing her,” Max chokes back a sob.

“Max, what do you mean, losing her?” Charles asks, more alert.

“She doesn’t eat, she’s depressed beyond imagination, doesn’t leave the house, spends the time she isn’t working remotely in her mind. This house, our father, makes her feel worthless. If I didn’t come tonight, she might’ve died. Charles, she asked me if she was going to die,” Max has your image ingrained in his memory, a little too thin and pale.

“I just texted Maman, she will come over and visit her for a little every day, make sure she eats,” Charles says, holding back his own tears. He remembers you fondly as the little girl with pig tails, always excited to spend time with her big brother.

You struggle with the move to Monaco, one you didn’t get a say in it, likely because you spend most of the year in your mind. You have come to grow more comfortable with the woman who visits you and uses food from your brother’s fridge to feed you.

“Y/n? Feel like talking today?” she gently asks, setting the food in front of you, like she does every day. You look up, and Pascale nearly cries, seeing you start to breaks through. Your blue eyes pierce hers.

“Tell me something awful, like you are a poet trapped in the body of a finance guy,”

[sayyestoheav3nn]

Nights Like This: Part Four

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: angst, language, violence

Word count: 1.5k

a/n: apologies for the delay, life was very much life-ing 😭 but i’m back on track, and the goal is to go back to updating more regularly (whether it be a chapter or a short 🙃) thanks again for your patience 🥹 if you would like to be added to the tag list pls lmk 🤍

As if things couldn’t get any worse, it started pouring down with rain. In any other situation, Zoe would have decided to turn around and go home, but not now. Fuck that.

As she pulled into the driveway she immediately noticed Serena’s car was there. Instinctively the first thing she checked was if Roman’s was also, but it wasn’t. Not even knowing why, a small sigh of relief escaped her.

She got out and knocked on the door aggressively, ignoring the fact that she was getting drenched by the freezing rain.

Minutes passed, and nothing. So she knocked again, and as more time passed she could feel her frustration and anger rising. Zoe was to the point where she was considering kicking down this bitch’s door.

As she was contemplating her next step she heard footsteps, the sound of the steps preceded to get closer, but seemed to stop once they reached the door.

“Open the door Serena, I just want to talk.” A lie, a big one at that. But Zoe didn’t need her to know that.

“There is nothing for us to talk about Zo. What happened, happened.”

It took absolutely everything out of Zoe to keep her composure, her plan was to keep it together until she convinced Serena to open the door. But the fact that this bottom of the barrel, two-timing slut had the audacity to be defensive instead of even attempting to apologize, pissed Zoe off to another level.

“Serena, if any part of you gives a shit about our friendship, you’d open the fucking door.”

Silence.

Zoe’s heart was racing and her blood was boiling. “All I am asking for is a conversation Serena, you owe me that.”

Serena slowly opened the door, avoiding Zoe’s gaze while motioning for her to come inside.

Zoe stepped in, immediately wanting to get straight to the fucking point, there wasn’t an ounce of patience left inside of her.

“Want to tell my why you were so desperate to fuck my boyfriend?”

Serena sighed while crossing her arms. “Is anything I say actually going to make a fucking difference?”

That’s what Zoe was met with as a response. After five years of being friends with this bitch, this is what she received in return. Enough is enough.

Zoe slapped her with so much force, that it caused Serena to stumble back. A small smile formed on her face when she saw Serena holding her cheek, a look of disbelief etched on her face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You said you wanted to talk!” Serena yelled.

“Was it worth ruining our friendship over some fucking head?”

“You want the fucking truth Zoe? Yes, it was fucking worth it! And if your stupid ass wouldn’t have crossed his mind, we would have fucked!” Serena screamed.

As Serena turned around and started to walk away, Zoe grabbed her by her hair and slammed her onto the ground. Immediately jumping atop her before she could get up, Zoe began to pummel her with hits. “Get the fuck off of me!” Serena screeched with rage, thrashing furiously on the floor as Zoe released her anger.

Serena raised one of the arms she’d been using to block her face, reaching up and snatching a handful of Zoe’s hair before tugging down with all her strength. Zoe’s head was pulled down with a hard yank, momentarily pausing in her hits while trying to free her hair from Serena’s grasp. “Let go of me bitch!”

Serena scrambled to try and get back on her feet, digging the nails of her now free hand into Zoe’s skin to get her to move off of her. But Zoe was relentless, grabbing Serena by the shoulders and pulling her up just to slam her back onto the ground, her head bouncing against the wooden floors.

Serena’s grip loosened, and Zoe took the opportunity to yank herself from her hold and continue beating her, ignoring the stinging pain of Serenas nails scratching and clawing at her.

Who knows how much time passed as they fought. Zoe hit Serena as much as she could before her body began to tire.

“I don’t ever want to see you again, I fucking hate you!” Zoe yelled, as she stood up and kicked Serena repeatedly, while she was still on the ground.

Just as Zoe was about to walk away, she spotted an open wine bottle, she grabbed it and poured every single fucking drop on Serena.

Zoe crouched down angling her body towards Serena. “If you even think of calling the cops, know that I won’t hesitate to call your pastor father, and let him know how much of a fucking slut his precious daughter is,” Zoe hissed.

“Fuck you Zoe! You’re an insecure shallow bitch that keeps getting cheated on no matter what you do, ever stop to think that maybe you’re the fucking problem?” Serena sneered. Zoe watched her attempt to sit up, her gaze shifting to Serena’s blood stained clothes.

There was nothing more she had to say to this bitch. Zoe walked away without looking back, she was done.

Serena was fucking dead to her.

She got in the car and started wiping some of the blood that was dripping from her cuts on her body, she pulled down her sun visor to look in the mirror and assess the ones on her face. Shit. The cuts on her face were more noticeable than she was hoping.

Zoe wiped as much blood and tears as she could, she took a deep breath and started driving.

……………………

The drive back home was brutal, the adrenaline had Zoe’s hands shaking so badly, she ended up having to pull over multiple times to calm herself.

Zoe walked into the room, and jumped when she saw Roman quietly sitting on the edge of the bed with his head low, his gaze on the floor.

“How did you get here, your car isn’t—”

“Parked it down the street, knew you wouldn’t have come in if you had seen it,” Roman’s voice was low, his eyes still glued to the ground.

She walked past him without even looking his way, grabbing her suitcase from the closet, she frantically started throwing some of her belongings inside. Zoe couldn’t stop crying, she constantly wiped her eyes as her tears began to stream down her face.

“You don’t have any family here Zoe, where are are you going?”

“Wherever I decide to go isn’t any of your business anymore, Roman.”

“Zo, just stay. I’ll leave.”

Zoe ignored him and continued filling her suitcase as much as she could, going in and out from the closet to the bathroom. Once she grabbed as much as she could possibly fit in her suitcase, she started walking towards the door when Roman stood in front of it, blocking her.

Zoe looked away, she didn’t want to fucking look at him. “Roman I’ve been through enough shit today, I’m not interested in talking anymore,” Zoe’s voice cracked, as she angrily wiped away some of her tears.

“Baby, please look at me,” he whispered.

Roman used his fingers to gently lift her chin. And that’s when he saw. She was fucking bleeding.

Roman started breathing heavily, his jaw clenching. “Zoe who the fuck did this?”

She ignored him, trying to move past him but every time she would attempt to go around, Roman would block her. Zoe was mentally and emotionally exhausted, she had no interest in talking about anything with him anymore. What was the fucking point, nothing was going to change what he did.

“Zoe. Did that bitch put her fucking hands on you?”

Without even thinking twice, Zoe slapped Roman as hard as she could.

“You don’t get to fucking do that! You did this to us, Roman!

Zoe began to sob uncontrollably.

“Baby, I’m so fucking sorry—”

“Serena didn’t have an ounce of fucking remorse! She was my best friend for five years Roman, do you have any idea how that fucking feels?”

Roman’s demeanor shifted, he paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “You don’t deserve any of this shit Zoe. I’m sorry. I know my words probably don’t mean shit to you, but I am.”

Roman slowly walked towards Zoe, his huge frame now towering over her. His voice was soft, almost hesitant. “You need space, I’ll give you it. You need time, I’ll give you it. Whatever you want, I’ll do. But, I need you to understand, I’m not ever going to fucking give up, ain’t anything or anybody going to change that.”

Before Zoe could respond, Roman kissed her forehead and walked away.

After the door shut, she heard his footsteps go from faint to silent. Zoe immediately dropped to the floor and cried her heart out.

Never in her life, had she felt so alone like she did in this very moment.

In the span of a few days, she lost the people who she loved and trusted the most, to say she was heartbroken was a fucking understatement.

Zoe’s heart was clouded with pain and anger, with one bitter desire rising within her.

To hurt him how he hurt her.

[lolitastories]

You're Family Now

Rafe Cameron

“Can I have that mind on me for just one night?” I ignore his bitchy tone towards me as we walk down the pier. ¿Really?!” He throws his free hand up in the air in despair. “Am I the bad guy for wanting to spend some time with my girlfriend?” I stomp my foot and freeze at the spot. Rafe notices when my hand pulls him back. The sun had already set while we walked along the beach all evening. I know he has the right to be mad, to be truthful I have been spending more time with the Pogues. We keep looking at each other, his eyes cold looking at me. I can’t tell him about the situation my friends are in at the moment, if he finds out then he would do everything not to let me out of his sight. I let out a sigh and slowly walked closer to him.

“You got all my attention, Rafe” I smile, moving my hands up to pull his face closer. “I will stop being an ass, okay?” He groans, placing a kiss on my lips before turning around and continuing walking.

“You coming?” I hear as he steps away, and I rush over to catch up to him. I slip my hand back in his and the other grip his forearm embracing it.

“So where are you taking me to eat?” I glance around the many restaurants on the pier. “Burgers?”

“They don’t have the fries you like,” I groan. Burgers should never be eaten alone.

“Sushi?" I asked less excitedly.

“You don’t like sushi” he says in a duh tone shaking his head.

“I know, but you do” He chuckles. “What about BBQ?” He instantly shakes his head.

“Too messy” It was my turn to laugh. He knows I like BBQ, but he also knows how the after smell lingers as it is messy and gets all over my fingers.

“Steak?” I pointed at the restaurant with sitting inside. Open outdoor area where you can see the boats go by.

“You don’t usually do meat,” I know he didn’t say it in double sense, but it makes me laugh. “But they do have salmon” He points out on the menu. “Shall we?” I give him a nod when he turns over to me for approval. Soon he is guiding us towards an outdoor table.

“This is nice,” I commented.

“Hey guys, my name is Cindy, and I will be your waitress tonight.” She smiles big, setting down the menus on the table. “Can I start you off with a drink?”

“Yes,” I didn’t even mind opening the menu knowing what I wanted already. I looked over to Rafe who was ordering. “Two waters and a coke” Cindy smiles and walks away.

“So,” I asked, a smile lingering on my lips.

“¿Yes?” A bit of scolding in his eyes. I held back a chuckle seeing him so stern. He leaned back, crossing his arms.

“I know I have been spending too much time with the Pogues since their return but until now you never cared much for taking me out on a date,” His gaze fell. It hurts a little as he comes to terms with my words. It was true, yes, he was sweet and nice to me but when we were with his friends or at a party he wouldn’t pay attention to me. And if it wasn’t for a party or with his friends, we would never hang out. Sarah was the one who introduced me to the Pogues and since then when Rafe didn’t need me, I would hang out with them. Rafe moves forwards grabbing my hand.

“I know I have been an asshole,” I scoff, nodding my head while he gives me a stare.

“Sorry, go on.” I smile cheekily leaning forward to show I was giving him my full attention.

“I should have known when you only held close to me anywhere, we went that you weren’t there for the attention that comes with being with me. But then there were these stupid people putting ideas in my head and with my dad-” I instantly move around the table and take a seat on his lap bringing him into a hug. “I was going through so much I didn’t know how to let you in, and I knew if I did I-, that would probably be the end of us” I could help but smile. The warmth his words caused was all I could ask for right now. I grab his face and make him look up to me. His brow furrowed, worried about my responses while his hands held on tightly around my waist.

“I wished you would have told me what you were going through, I wish that I could have helped you, Rafe.” He shakes his head.

“I would never want to put you through seeing me like that,” I know what he was referring to. While Rafe shut me off from time to time, I would not let that affect my day to day. During the day I was either at school or working but at night I was crying and missing him like crazy. Sarah taking me with the Pogues made me realize my day shouldn’t be wrapped around Rafe, although that didn’t stop me from missing him. I wasn’t stupid when I heard people talk about Rafe and Barry, but it was due to the Pogues that maybe I was naive to fight more for him. Rafe pulls me closer leaning his forehead against mine. “Then I saw you with the Pogues and how you laughed. How carefree you were on the boat with them, even just sitting by the bonfire you seemed happier.” How stupid of me. “So, I made a deal that no one was going to make you happier than me.” I laughed wrapping my arms around his neck.

“So cheesy” I tease. I feel the vibration from his chest as he lets out a quick chuckle.

“Shut it,” He groans, pulling back a bit. I bit my lip as our eyes spoke for each other. He had such a beautiful smile. I move forward to whisper beside his ear.

“How about you take me away from here and make me?” His big rough hand travel up my back to slightly grip the skin-,

“Ma’am?” We both looked up seeing the waitress standing there with our drinks. “Please?” She motioned for me to take my seat.

“Yeah,” I say shyly, rushing over. I notice Rafe fixing himself as he picks the menu again. “Thank you” I say once she places our drinks on the table.

“Also,” The waitress calls on to us as she points to the side of the restaurant, “Caught them sneaking in, said they knew you two” I almost burst out laughing seeing Rafe’s reaction. Pope, John B and JJ waved at us innocently.

“They're like lost puppies” He whispers disapprovingly.

“Rafe,” I warned, giving him a smile to try and weaken his heart.

“Fine,” He finally groaned. “Put it on my card,” I could squeal out of happiness.

“Wait!” I screamed behind the waitress. “To go orders only” Cindy nods and continues to walk away.

“You don’t want them to join us?” He knew I wanted them too but I also understood this wasn’t time for the Pogues so I shook my head. “Good” He grabs the menu again and starts scanning through it.

“Rafe,” I leaned forward one more time. His menu lowered, looking at me with an unamused stare. “Thank you,” playfully say. Without moving his eyes away from mine he set the menu on the table and leaned forward.

“Don’t get used to it.” He lowers his voice and with a mischievous grin he tilts his head. “I am more than willing to pay for you, do anything for you, but that's because I get to have you all to myself at night” I know I should be somewhat offended, but my core was loving it.

“Thanks buddy!” JJ plants his hands on both of Rafe's shoulders pushing him back into his seat. Pope and John B, walk over holding on to bags of food.

“Yeah, it was nice of you,” Pope adds. John B only nods, of course he still doesn’t like Rafe.

“I will say it if you guys don’t” JJ continues. “Whether we like it or not you are going to be around for a while,” I sat back already annoyed at whatever else he was going to say. “Whether in a relationship with our girl-” Rafe’s brows furrowed. “Or while John B is macking with your sister-” oh no, I don’t like where this is going. “You are somewhat family” He ends his speech happily looking at the other Pogues for approval but there was none.

“Get out” I say sternly, mainly looking at JJ. “Out” I repeat and John B nods, taking JJ by the arm and dragging him out.

“Thanks again,” Pope quickly says, running behind the other two boys. I look over worried but surprised to find Rafe smiling while shaking his head.

“I am going to pretend that never happened and look at the bright side” I raise my brow, unable to see how that happened. He looks towards me and smiles, “If a bit of money and my sister are the price to pay to have you all to myself, then I can handle that” I roll my eyes shaking my head.

“Ready to order?” Rafe smirks, nodding his head.

“I will have the steak, medium well and she will have the Salmon,” I would be lying if I didn’t feel pride. To have Rafe with me. As he orders my food and takes care of me. If this makes me less of a feminist so, be it, I am a sucker for this man. “And add a side of fries” Yeah, I would kneel for this man.

[dixonsgirl93]

The L Word

(Fun fact: The part in bold is a real life scenario that happened to me. 🙃 but this one has a happy ending, thankfully 😂)

You and Daryl had been dating for almost 6 months and a scary, new feeling had started growing inside you.

With each new day and each embrace with Daryl, this feeling grew. It was now at a point where you could think of nothing else and it was hindering your focus.

“You gotta just tell him.” Carol sighs, watching you with your head in your hands, stressing.

“I can’t.” You whimper.

“You can.” She gently pushes.

Images from the past flashed violently into your mind. That pain. You couldn’t do that again. Not now. Not with Daryl.

“You don’t get it. I said ‘I love you’ for the first time before and it went awful.”

“What happened?”

“Well, I couldn’t actually say it outright. I said, ‘what would you say if I told you I loved you?’ Like, what a wimp, right? Anyway, his response?” You sigh heavily. “‘There’d be a h/n-sized hole in that door.’ And yes, I did stay with him after that, like an idiot.”

You could hear the amusement in Carol’s voice. “You know Daryl’s not gonna say anything like that. He’s not like that. Worst case scenario he says nothing at all.”

You lift your head. “That doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.”

Carol places a hand on your shoulder. “Do it, or don’t. Life is even shorter now than it was. Live a little.” She turns away to carry on with whatever she was doing but her words linger, sticking to the inside of your mind. She was right, of course.

~~

Later that evening, when you and Daryl were cuddling on your sofa, talking about your respective days, Carol’s words come back to you, as do those 3 scary little words.

“Uh, Daryl.” You start, mouth going impossibly dry. Your heart pounds and you almost back out before having said anything.

“Hm?” He grunts, looking down at you under his arm.

You sigh heavily, a weight settling on your chest.

“There’s something I wanted to…uh…talk about.” Lame start, you think, still considering backing out.

“What’s that?” You can almost hear his frown but not daring to look just yet.

Here, you freeze, the words sticking to your tongue, even with Carol’s advice pushing at them. Fear, excitement, trepidation, god, it was all too much.

“I-“

“I love you too.”

You turn to look at him, the world blurring around you both.

“Wh-“

He doesn’t let you stutter out your confusion, planting a kiss on your lips, his hand on your cheek. When he pulls back he smirks at you.

“I mean it. M’not just saying it to save you from having a…a meltdown tryna speak. I’ve been feeling it too.” He leans forward again, kissing the top of your head.

“God, and you couldn’t have put me out of my misery sooner?” You gently whack him on his chest.

“Ow.” He smiles, flinches and grapples you into a hug, pulling you onto him.

“And miss out watching you get all flustered? You’re adorable.” He holds you tight and kisses all over your face.

“Asshole… I love you.” You smirk and share a kiss together, growing in intensity and heat…

“That’s my girl.”

[buggybambi]

nurse cupid | carmen berzatto

claire and carmen used to date. you work under claire, and are now dating carmen. what a fucked up triangle ─ 1.33k cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used

Ever since you were young, you knew you wanted to be a nurse. Every career day at school, your answer was the same: "I want to be a nurse and help people!" usually written in yellow crayon.

So, managing to score a job in an ER in Chicago was a dream come true. You loved Chicago and your charge nurse, Claire, was one of your closest friends. Emphasis on was. That was before you and Carmy met.

Carmen Berzatto. The boy you met through Syd, one of your oldest friends. After weeks of back and forth flirting, you and him finally asked for each other's numbers and set up a date, much to Syd's apprecation since all he talked about outside of work was you and if you were stopping in.

Claire only found out about your relationship with Carmy after he insisted taking you to work one particularly snowy morning, leaving you with a goodbye kiss.

That day, she gave you more work then usual. More charts, more patients to watch over and check on, and that was on top of your usual work load. Plus, everytime you asked her a question she gave an exhausted sounding sigh and explained it to you like you were a child, with a condescending tone in her voice.

"Claire." You walk over to her, setting the charts (filled out) down on the desk. "What the hell is your issue with me today? You've been giving me your patients and frankly, your attitude towards me is passive aggressive. If there's something I did, tell me what it is and I can fix it." You request.

Her pager beeps as she hums. "The chief wants to see you." She says, beginning to walk off, and you follow her.

──

As soon as you stepped foot into the chief’s office, you knew what was happening. One of the ladies from HR you’d met once before, the chief, and Claire. Sat around a coffee table.

“Hi Y/n. Glad you could join us.” You know that’s HR talk for “glad we summoned you, let’s tell you what you did wrong.”

You sit down, noticing the look Claire gives you. It’s almost a glare.

“Mm. Can I ask what this is about?” You question.

“Well, Claire here has a feeling that you’re trying to shove a personal relationship in her face. I understand you are dating her ex and she just feels that-”

“That you’re basically trying to remind me of what Carmen and I went through. What we once had.” Claire cuts Aileen (the woman from HR) off, tilting her head at you as she waits on a response.

You stare at her, actually letting out a mix of a scoff and a laugh. “I’m sorry? Claire, Carm and you broke up nearly a year ago. Why are you still hooked on him?”

“This isn’t about me. You knew damn well I’d be at work this morning when he dropped you off.” “It was freezing cold! He didn’t want me walking or taking a cold train, so he offered to drive me since it’s on his way to work. He gave me a kiss and I never even brought it up to you.”

“Ladies!” The chief cuts you both off. “Aileen has agreed to investigate this further. Y/n, refraining from engaging with your boyfriend for respect of Claire’s feelings would be best.” He encourages.

You actually have tears in your eyes from the frusturation, your hands shaking from where you sit. "I'm sorry, can you excuse me for a moment?" You ask softly, standing up before they answer and practically running out of the room.

You barely make it out before you hear the office door shut, not by you but by Claire. "Y/n-"

"What the hell did I do to you, huh? Is this because Carmen and you broke up, or maybe because I didn't come running to you asking for your permission before I began dating him? What is it?" You question, throwing your hands in the air before slapping your hands against your side.

"Don't blame me for this. You're the one who had to go and act like a.. like a school girl bitch and put your relationship with him near me." She scolds. The tears you had been fighting back actually start falling at that, as you wipe them quickly. You shake your head, as you push past her and the flood of doctors.

──

Cold air be damned, you cross your arms over your chest as you lean against the brick wall outside. Ambulances soar past toward the ER exit, but you don't pay them any attention. It isn't until a familiar car pulls up in front of you that you actually look up.

"Hey, pretty girl. You okay?" Carmen's comforting voice asks, getting out of his car with his coat in hands, putting it over your shoulders. His heart breaks at the sight of your tears, nose red from probably the cold and crying, a frown matching yours.

You bury your face in his neck, only moving it to speak. "Claire saw you drop me off this morning and reported me to human resources. Then called me a school-girl bitch for 'putting our relationship near her'." You answer, your voice soft.

He nods slowly, trying to keep himself calm near you. "Why don't you go get in the car, huh? I'll go grab your stuff from inside." He asks, taking your hands in his. You smile. "Thanks, Carmy. Just behave yourself, please." You request, before climbing into the passenger seat of the car.

He watches to make sure you're safe in the car before he goes inside, fists clenched at his side. Behaving himself was something Carmen had never enjoyed doing, so why would he?

He spots Claire almost immediately, walking over. "Carmen-" She begins.

"Claire. What the fuck is your problem?" He cuts her off, staring at her. "Y/n has done nothing to you. If you're pissed about how we left things, that's fine. But you have zero right to harass my girlfriend over how I’ve moved on. I suggest you do the same.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, instead making his way up to the chief’s office. Knocking on the door and waiting for the faint "come in", Carmen steps into the office and clears his throat as his jacket hangs off one arm.

“Hi, sir. My name is Carmen Berzatto, I’m-”

“I know who you are, son.” Ed, the chief, says with a nod. “And I know why you’re here. And I’d like to only say this once, so I’d appreciate your listening. Y/n is a fantastic employee as I'm sure she's a fantastic partner. I hate to see that girl crying. So, allow this to be a warning.." Ed stands, circling the desk and sitting on the edge, arms crossed right in front of Carmen.

".. If you hurt her, and I find she comes into work again crying because of you, I will end you. Are we clear?" Ed asks, and Carmen immediately asks. "Yes, sir, thank you." He says.

Carmen made his way back to the car, finding you in the frontseat, staring at the radio. He sets your bag in the backseat, climbing into the passenger's seat. "Your radio is all weird." You mumble.

He laughs, placing a kiss on your head. "I'm sorry about Claire. I should have told you.. I promise I am gonna spend the rest of the day making it up to you." He says.

You smile at him. "As long as I've got you, I don't care, Carmy. It isn't your fault."

He grins. "Well, you've got me for as long as you'll have me."

──

It doesn't shock anyone when you're moved to a different unit a week later, this time one where your boyfriend didn't date the charge nurse that would harass you. At least if they did, Carmy would be there to comfort you.

Like he always is.

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

shine on, shine on, my loves!

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! check out my carmen berzatto masterlist here for more fanfics!

- mae

[ryeriy]

slipping through my fingers | lewis hamilton

-> summary: Lewis is watching is daughter slip away through his fingers

-> pairings: dad!lewis hamilton x mom!reader

-> a/n: this was a really cute idea in my head but I hope it turns out okay 😭

mamma mia series

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15 years ago, January 29th

It was just a few hours ago that little Savanna was born into this world. She had already been adored by both of her parents that loved her so much in these first few hours.

"She's quite cute isn't she?" Lewis said while looking down at the baby girl in his arms. Savanna was swaddled in blankets and being held by her father. Y/n looked over at Lewis as he held their newborn daughter. Even though y/n was very tired, she couldn't help but to slightly smile.

"Probably gets that from me." Y/n let out a soft laugh. Lewis laughed too.

"I couldn't agree more with that one," Lewis smiled at the baby in his arms that's his.

He couldn't believe that something this perfect and tiny was his. He has a child now and if felt so unreal to him still. It felt like to him it was only yesterday she was showing him the two pink lines on the pregnancy test, now he was holding his baby girl in his hands.

"I wish I could just freeze this moment and treasure it, it's so peaceful."

"Me too..." y/n agreed.

Y/n looked over at Lewis holding their daughter smiling at the sigh of it. They're finally a family after nine whole months of waiting. Their lives couldn't have been any better.

10 years ago, September 1st

"Okay, do you have everything you need Savanna?" Y/n asks as she grabs her daughter's Hello Kitty backpack, putting it onto her back.

The five-year-old nods her head and looks up at her mom. "Yes, mommy, you asked me that before we left the house too!" Savanna giggled in response. "I know, I'm just making sure!" Y/n smiled at her daughter and pulled out her phone from her pocket.

Lewis was standing next to y/n looking at Savanna and smiling at her. He leaned down to kiss her head and ran a hand through her hair. Savanna clung to Lewis hugging him.

"Okay fine...just one more picture though!" Y/n let out a soft laugh opening her camera.

"Mommy! I've got to go!" Savanna giggled again putting a smile on her face. She pulled away from Lewis standing in front of both of her parents.

"Just one more hug?" Y/n asked looking at Savanna getting down to her level to hug. Savanna ran up into her mother's arms embracing her mom. Y/n kissed her forehead and smiled at her. "Okay, okay! Just have fun and we'll pick you up after school?"

"We can even go for ice cream later!" Lewis exclaimed as he kneeled in front of Savanna. Both of them were smiling ear to ear pulling her into a tight hug.

"Yay!" Savanna exclaimed wrapping her arms around Lewis' neck.

Savanna pulled away one last time and looked around seeing other kids laughing and playing. She looked eager to go meet new kids and looked back up at her parents. Lewis and Y/n were standing next to each other. Lewis had his arm wrapped around y/n as they both had their eyes on Savanna. "Go, go have fun!" Lewis said to her and y/n smiled.

Savanna smiled at them and ran off to the entrance of the school where the other kids were. She turned around looking back at her parents, waving to them. "Bye, mommy! Bye, daddy!" She smiled and ran up to a group of kids.

Lewis and Y/n waved back and softly smiled at Savanna. They couldn't believe that she was growing up so fast. It was their daughter's first day of school and she wasn't looking back and rethinking.

8 years ago, July 25th

"You'll do great, sweetheart," Lewis hugged Savanna.

Today was Savanna's first big gymnastics competition. She's had competition before but nothing this big. There were so many other girls her age competing. It was quite intimidating, especially for a seven-year-old girl. Lewis and y/n would be there though to support their daughter even if they had to watch her from afar, they were still supporting her.

"You promise?" Savanna looked up into her father's eyes.

"I promise you, me and mom are going to be in the stans cheering you on the entire time, okay?" Lewis comforted her. He gently brushed a strand of curly hair out of her face.

Savanna hugged Lewis and y/n with a wide smile on her face. She took her water bottle and her bag with her and ran off to go with her team. Lewis held onto her hand until she started to turn away from him. Both parents were proud of their daughter and how far she's come along.

Savanna placed fourth overall in her events. Even though she didn't get first place, she still got a medal and a proud smile on her face.

"Mommy! Mommy! Daddy! Daddy!" The little girl came rushing up to her parents smiling at them. Savanna barely had her bag on her back and her water bottle hanging her tiny fingers. "Look! Look! I got a medal!"

"Oh, look at that!" Lewis looked at her and hugged her tightly. He placed a kiss on her forehead. "You did really good sweetheart."

"We're so proud of you, baby!" Y/n said as she looked at her daughter and smiled.

"Can we get some ice cream now?" Savanna looked up at Lewis and y/n with puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, we can go get ice cream now," y/n laughed softly and kissed her daughter's head.

Savanna smiled widely and let out a giggle. She was so excited to go get ice cream after a well-deserved day full of gymnastics. "Yay!"

Present Day, January 29th

"Happy birthday dear Savanna, Happy birthday to you! Blow out your candles, sweetheart."

Y/n smiled as she took a photo of Savanna, who was sitting in front of her cake with fifteen lighten candles on top of it. Lewis was next to y/n smiling at his daughter as blew out all fifteen of the candles on top.

"God, you're so old now!" Y/n joked as she smiled and looked at Lewis and Savanna.

"It's like yesterday you were in my arms for the first time and your mom was fawning all over you!" Lewis laughed and so did y/n while Savanna cringed.

"You guys are acting like it's a big deal, I'm only fifteen!" Savanna said as she looked at her parents.

Only fifteen.

That was the only thing Lewis could think of. He didn't realize it but his little girl was growing up right in front of him. He remembered thinking back on the day she was first born, when he said to y/n, "I wish I could just freeze this moment and treasure it, it's so peaceful." He wishes he still could.