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#then never spoke of it to each other again
gyubakeries · 2 days
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𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀 | c.sc (f)
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a/n: for some reason the ask got deleted 😭 but an anon asked for something scoups related, so, anon, if you're seeing this, hi! thanks for requesting! i kept brainstorming, and finally came up with this, so i hope you like it! (sorry the ask got deleted im hopeless w technology 😭)
word count: 2.1k contents: seungcheol x afab!reader , gymbro!cheol , i have 0 gym knowledge forgive me , seungcheol and reader are dating , bullying mingyu is a canon event , lots of fluff , cheol being a green flag as always , slight angst , mentions of insecurities (but they have healthy communication about it!) , just overall cute vibes !
"i wanna go to the gym with you."
seungcheol looks up from his phone to direct his gaze at you. it's a thursday night, a rare day off for the both of you, and you had been in the process of selecting a movie for the night when you suddenly spoke.
"what?" seungcheol asks again, not sure if he heard you right the first time.
"i want to go to the gym with you," you repeat, meeting seungcheol's eyes reluctantly, trying to mask your ulterior motive with a smile.
seungcheol was taken aback, but don't get him wrong. he was a regular at the gym, but in your last three years of dating, he had never heard you wanting to accompany him to the gym. instead, you'd always said that you'd rather be at home than be surrounded by sweaty people, including seungcheol himself.
so why the sudden interest?
"babe, everything okay?" seungcheol asks. he knows asking questions may seem rude, but he notices the way the smile you're shooting at him doesn't feel genuine at all.
"yeah! i just wanted to see what was so great about the gym for you to spend hours there," you say, making up an excuse on the fly, hoping you sounded convincing enough.
seungcheol knew you through and through, and he also knew that you weren't telling him the entire truth. but instead of prying, he decides to agree to your request.
"alright,come with me tomorrow," he nods. "it's gonna be pretty intense though. mingyu tells me i'm a really strict gym trainer." he jokes.
"it's okay," you laugh, finally cracking a real smile. "i have a feeling i'll become your favorite student in no time."
"we'll see about that," seungcheol teases, and you drop the topic, shifting your attention back to choosing a movie.
seungcheol needs to get to the bottom of this.
-
the next day, seungcheol comes home from work, and like clockwork, he changes into his workout clothes and grabs his gym bag, ready to head out, but-
something feels different about today though....
"excuse me? were you forgetting your star student at home?" comes your voice, and he finally remembers. he turns to see you waiting in the kitchen, and any suspicions he had about your strange request melt away at the sight of you dolled up in the cutest workout fit. your hair was up in a ponytail, and you were wearing a baby pink sports bra with a matching pair of leggings. you even had a cute duffel bag packed with you.
"aw, baby, you look adorable," he coos. he walks towards the kitchen and stops in front of you to place a kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into a hug. "also, i'd never forget my favorite student." he says defensively, and you laugh at his cuteness.
"sure, big guy," you chuckle. "let's get going, shall we?"
-
whatever worries had left his brain when he saw you at home had come back to him ten-fold at the gym. he started you off with some basic warm-up exercises and then the treadmill. the both of you jogged next to each other for a while. you had found all of this manageable until now, even though all the physical exertion had made you all sweaty, which in turn made you uncomfortable. you mask your uneasiness though, not wanting to alert seungcheol.
but he had already seen the signs of discomfort on your face. after the treadmill, he decided that he needs to take you home.
"i'm actually feeling really tired today, babe," he fake-yawns while you're sipping on some water. "how about we go home now and come back another day?"
"woah, you're tired just from some cardio?" someone speaks up from behind him, and it's mingyu.
how is he always at the gym?? seungcheol wonders, cursing mingyu's timing.
"i just had a long day at work. what are you doing here?" seungcheol rolls his eyes.
"working out, duh," mingyu retorts. "didn't you clock in late to work today, though? i've seen you less tired while you were working on three days of no sleep."
seungcheol really wants to punch mingyu in the face right now.
"if you're really feeling tired, we can head home," you butt in before seungcheol throws a dumbell at mingyu.
seungcheol would be relieved, if not for the way you look dejected and upset, and seungcheol would rather walk through fire than be the reason for that frown on your face, so he relents.
"it's okay, i'm feeling fine," he smiles. "we can continue, baby."
"just don't be all gross and couple-y," mingyu adds, and quickly scurries away before seungcheol can elbow him in the stomach.
after mingyu leaves, seungcheol gets you started on some basic squats. he shows you the correct posture, even helps you for the first few times till you get the hang of it.
finally, you gain the confidence to do the squats on your own, so you start off with a goal of completing 10. by the time you're on squat number 4, there's a burn in your thighs. you've heard people saying that it's supposedly a good burn, but right now, it's making you feel like your legs are going to snap into two, like twigs.
not wanting to embarrass yourself, you push through the remaining squats, collapsing to the floor after you finish them.
"hey! that was great!" seungcheol smiles cheerily. "i'm so proud of you. let's take a break and then we can move onto something else."
the next challenge: push-ups.
while you weren't a frequent gym-goer, you had an idea of how a push-up should be done. guided by seungcheol's instructions, you find yourself in the position to carry out some push-ups. once again, you set a goal of 10 and you start.
at push-up number 7, your arms give out and you lose your balance, your forehead bumping with the ground.
"shit. y/n, are you okay?" seungcheol is by your side in a blink, helping you up into a sitting posture. you look around the gym, and thankfully there weren't a lot of people around to see your disastrous attempt at push-ups, but you still felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"i'm sorry," you sniffle, tears welling up in your eyes as seungcheol gently rubs your forehead. "i'm sorry for being bad at this."
seungcheol freezes when he sees you cry. he knows you, and you weren't the type to cry from such a small failure. the uneasiness twists his gut; something is really wrong.
"baby, you have nothing to be sorry for," he says, tone firm yet gentle. "let's go home and talk about this, okay? you did a good today, and you should rest."
leaving no room for negotiation, you let seungcheol gather both your belongings and walk you back home.
once you reach your shared apartment, you're aware of how sweaty and gross you are, your nose crinkling with disgust.
"i need to shower..." you mumble.
"you can head in first. call me if you need anything, okay?" seungcheol suggests. "i'll start on dinner."
you nod timidly and head towards the shower. a long and relaxing shower later, you're emerging from the bedroom in your comfiest pajamas, and a red spot on your forehead from the incident at the gym. you walk into the kitchen to see seungcheol putting down dinner on the table, freshly showered.
"you used the guest bathroom?" you ask, and he nods. you can tell that there's something on his mind, and you know its related to what happened today. knowing seungcheol, he likes to communicate whatever he has on his mind to maintain trust between you, so you eat dinner in silence, anticipating the conversation after.
once the dishes are washed and put away, you quickly go to bed, hoping to avoid any tough conversations by falling asleep early. but seungcheol is too aware of your tendencies, so he follows you to the bedroom, sitting next to you on the bed as you lay down.
"does it hurt a lot?" he asks, breaking the silence.
"my forehead? not that much. but the rest of my body is really sore," you admit truthfully.
"should i get you a painkiller for it?" seungcheol offers, and you shake your head. you've seen him come home from the gym complaining of sore muscles, but he never takes any medication for it, and you don't want to seem weak for doing so.
"you can take one, it won't make you weak," seungcheol says, as if he's read your thoughts. "what's going on, baby? i know something is bothering you, tell me what it is. let me help you."
the gentle tone to his voice makes you tear up immediately. you bring your hands up to your face as you cry. an alarmed seungcheol is quick to hug you, whispering comforting words into your ear.
once you've calmed down, you realize it's time to tell him the truth.
"i wanted to have something in common with you. all our friends and their partners have a shared interest. mingyu and his girlfriend love cooking, wonwoo and his girlfriend like photography; even minghao managed to end up with someone who loves tea as much as him. i just wanted to share something with you. i realized that you and i don't have a lot in common. everyone says 'opposites attract' but to what extent? that's why i thought of going to the gym, so that we could have something to share."
seungcheol is silent for a few moments, and you bite the inside of your cheek nervously while you wait for his response.
"y/n, you're the one person on this earth i have found a perfect match in. you and i have a lot more in common than you think. like the fact that you're the only person who supports my 'dipping french fries in milkshake' agenda," seungcheol cracks a soft smile, holding your hands in his.
"you don't have to force yourself to do things just to share an interest with me, baby. i love you for who you are. you're a wonderful artist, and i'm absolutely pathetic at drawing basic human figures. that doesn't mean we don't work together," seungcheol explains, hoping that his words make sense to you.
"i know, but i just- i just got worried that one day you'd be tired of having to deal with someone so different from you," you sigh, confessing the thought that had been plaguing your mind for a few weeks. "i don't want to lose you, cheol. that's why i did all this. but all i've really done is embarrass myself..."
seungcheol's lips draw into a pout as he crawls onto the bed, laying down next to you. he covers both of you under the blanket and pulls your body closer to him, your head cradled against his chest, and his arm wrapped around your waist.
"i'll never get tired of you. you're the love of my life, and i like the fact that every day we spend together, i get to learn something new about you. there's a familiarity in that too, you know?" he says, and the warmth in his voice makes your heart melt.
"ever since the day i met you, i've wanted to know who you are. i've wanted to know what makes you smile and cry, what food you don't like so i'll never bring it up, what your favorite disney princess is, even how much sugar you like in your coffee. and i'm so grateful to be able to learn every small thing about you, because that's how i show my love for you."
you pull away slightly from his embrace, meeting seungcheol's soft gaze.
"i love you the way you are, and no amount of differences could ever stop me from loving you. even if you were the north pole and i was the south, i'd do everything in my power to be with you, you get that?"
"how'd i get so lucky?" you whisper, eyes welling up again. "i love you too, so much. you- you made me cry, you idiot." you chuckle wetly, slapping his chest playfully.
"you're just a sap," seungcheol teases, but he rubs your back comfortingly nonetheless. "anyways, you're not going to be following me to the gym just for the sake of it anymore. i already think you're perfect the way you are, but if you ever do want to go, you should do it only because you want to, okay?"
"you don't have to worry about it," you dismiss his concerns. "from the second i step foot into the gym and got attacked by the stench of sweat, i promised to never come back."
"hey! that's rude!" seungcheol gasps dramatically. you can only laugh at the way a grown, 29 year-old man pouts like a toddler.
yeah, you really were lucky to have him.
-fin.
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sturnioz · 3 days
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shy!reader has been pretty much m.i.a all week, and fratboy!chris does not care. no seriously, he doesn’t care.
he’s just kept his eyes peeled every night through crowds of sweaty bodies jammed into his living room, and even through the sluggish crowds of tired students in college hallways, yet he couldn’t find you.
it was on the 6th night when chris was seriously considering showing up at your place — for no reason just he needed your lit notes, of course —when he received a text from nick.
nick, the eldest — and no doubt more mature —triplet. chris’ eyebrows furrowed at the notification, why was nick texting him at 10:30pm on a weeknight? kid cares way too much about being on time for class in the mornings
Nick: *image attached* isn’t this one of your girls?
the somewhat blurry picture was taken from a distance in the old, dusty library on campus. you sat in a corner, a mess of notes, books and your laptop sprawled on the desk in front of you. you looked weak, your hair a mess, bags prominent under your eyes.
before chris could even react, his phone buzzed again
i’m not a total creeper, i’ve just noticed her here every night this week and i’m pretty sure she has not changed her sweatshirt once
or pretty much left this library.
i seriously hope this is actually her and not a complete stranger
you know what, i’m talking to her. don’t change my mind.
chris groaned, the realisation of finals week dawning on him. sometimes chris forgets how much college actually means to you, and how ridiculously sick it makes you.
he did not have time for this, he had customers to please, yet - he didn’t hesitate. he’s huffing and complaining pretty much the whole time, but he’s quick to make his way over to the library he’s really not too familiar with, saving you from the shackles that is a conversation with a redbull fueled nick sturniolo.
-
you can take it from here, love u pooks mwah
- 🫧
gonna take it from here in shy!readers pov cos i want nick and shy!reader to have some one on one time before fratboy!chris grumpily comes over !!
your back aches with a constant throb, your eyes feel gritty and sore, and a dull headache pulses at your temples, making it difficult for you to concentrate. hunched over in the dimly lit corner of the library, you've spent countless of hours — days — buried in textbooks, scribbles notes and laptop screens, desperately trying to absorb everything before your exams.
the week has been relentless, leaving you physically and emotionally drained, as if the weight of your studies is pressing down on you.
you haven't seen chris in almost a week. the silence has been deafening — no texts lighting up your phone, no calls breaking the quiet, and no facetime calls at late hours. truth be told, you did put your phone on do not disturb, silencing any incoming calls to shield yourself from distractions. it's not that you intended to cut off all communication completely; you simply needed space.
you needed to be alone, to gather your thoughts, and to focus on your studies, to not be distracted by his intense social life.
however, you are distracted when someone slams a stack of textbooks onto the table opposite you, the sound echoing in the quiet space. startled, you lift your tired gaze, and your heart thumps when you recognise a familiar that slumps into the seat across from you.
he runs a hand through his tousled mullet, adjusting the thin-framed glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose before flashing you a friendly grin.
you know who he is. you've seen him in countless pictures and instagram posts with chris and matt. yet, despite your familiarity with his image, you've never met him in person — you never even spoke a word to each other, and you find yourself sliding further down in your seat, a wave of awkwardness and shyness washing over you.
"hello—fuck!" nick curses as he sets his can of red bull down on the wooden table, only for it to topple over and spill a little. flustered and annoyed, he mutters under his breath, hastily dabbing at the tiny droplets on the table with the sleeve of his sweater. his eyes finally meet yours again, and he offers another grin. "hello."
"hi.." you manage to respond, your voice barely above a whisper.
"i've noticed that you're, like, constantly glued to this fucking seat, like you haven't moved the entire week—" nick pauses mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he realises how awful his wording sounds. he quickly holds up his hand, a look of urgency in his expression. "i'm not a creep. i wasn't staring at you. i know you—i think i know you—no, i do know you. you're, like, kinda with my brother. chris. that's you, right? god, tell me that's you, 'cos i'm gonna end up losing my mind—"
"yeah," you cut off his intense rambling, which is probably fuelled by the red bull he keeps fidgeting with. "that... that's me, yeah."
nick blinks at you in silence for a moment before he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, and he bluntly says. "wow, you really are quiet," you become a little flustered at that, tearing your gaze away from him until he asks incredulously. "the fuck are you doing with chris of all people?"
a subtle smile pulls at your lips at that, especially when you glance back at his face and see the shock etched across it. honestly, you don't even know what you're doing with chris, but it wouldn't exactly be appropriate to go into the details with his brother. so, you simply shrug your shoulders in response.
nick suddenly deadpans. "blink twice if you need my help."
now that makes you laugh — a genuine, unexpected sound that splutters past your lips. you quickly cover your mouth, eyes widening as the sound echoes through the library and you glance around, paranoid that someone might shoot you the dirtiest look and demand you to shut up or leave.
but nick waves it off dismissively when he notices your worries, "they can go fuck themselves."
you remain silent for a moment, considering his words, before stating, "we... are in a library."
"then they can go fuck themselves quietly."
another genuine, but quieter, laugh escapes you. you find yourself relaxing a bit more with him, opening up and feeling more comfortable as nick takes charge of the conversation; showing genuine interest in your major, your studies, and your hobbies.
you do the same, getting to know him better, and even getting a little excited when you realise how many similarities you share. the more you chat, the more your cheeks start to hurt from smiling so much. the tiredness that had once taken over you begins to fade away, replaced by a lightness you haven't felt in days, and your books and notes sit forgotten on the table.
however, your head perks up in surprise when you spot chris walking through the double doors. he's wearing a beanie on top of his head with tuffs of curly hair peeking out, a hoodie that swallows his frame, and his hands are shoved deep in the pockets of his sweatpants.
he glances around the library, his eyes finally zeroing in on you and nick at the far end of the room. you can't quite read his expression — his face stoic as he makes his way over.
he drops down in the chair beside you, and nick immediately pulls a face, shooting you a look that makes you giggle again, and chris huffs at the sound, clearly unimpressed.
"stop botherin' her," chris mutters, his foot hooking comfortably beneath your chair as he settles in.
"m'not."
chris rolls his eyes, ignoring nick's response as he turns his attention to you. he takes you in for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing as he says, "tell him he's botherin' you, kid."
you can't help but smile gently. "he's not bothering me. he's been fun.. i like his company."
"told you," nick muses across from across the table. chris snaps his head towards nick, shooting him a glare as nick lifts the can of red bull to his mouth, a smirk spreading across his lips as he adds, "bitch."
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shy-writer-999 · 3 days
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hey friend! can i request a capital F FILTHY zoro x f!reader where they two of them are rivals/borderline enemies who fight all the time but after they both get a lil tipsy they end up hate fucking in the roughest most desperate way possible…
Ohhhh yes yes yes. YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND, ANON. anything filthy and with zoro i’m down. brace yourself because this is nasty. you told me capital F FILTHY and i gave you FILTHIER. this turned into a ~2.9k word monstrosity. i read it through like twice so plz excuse any overused words or typos...
everyone say it with me, now: "hate sex! hate sex! hate sex!!!!"
---
You and Zoro butted heads since the day you got on the ship. Zoro thought his tiffs with Sanji were super fucking annoying—but Sanji had nothing on you. Not only did you have an annoying quip in response to everything he said, but he heard you actively shit talking him in front of his face multiple times. He despised you—everything about you. He hated how you mocked him, hated how cocky you were around him, hated the way you fought, your morals, the way you spoke to everyone BUT him; he couldn’t stand you.
The pair of you had almost gotten to blows multiple times, but he just couldn’t bring himself to hit you. He’d threaten you with his sword but never use it, even though he thought about it more than he would like to admit.
Your asinine remarks would replay in his head sometimes. “Zoro, the amount of effort you put into working out and being stoic is fucking pathetic. Lighten up for once. You’re fucking draining to be around.” Your tone was vile and pitiful. He saw red any time you said stuff like that.
“Zoro, another bottle of sake? Like you haven’t had enough to drink for a whole year? Fucking alcoholic.” You would smirk and condescend, and he’d try to send it back your way but he felt like the couldn’t twist the dagger the same way that you could.
“Shut up,” he would respond, agitated and cold. “Mind your fucking business and go nag someone else, woman. You’re insufferable.”
What was the most agitating thing about you being an asshole to him was that you did it while looking so good. He hated that. He would actively mull the fact over—you were gorgeous, but you had such a rotten personality, it couldn’t be helped. You fought like shit, treated him like a child, mocked him, derided him… And he did the same to you. But he felt his cock twinge any time you got close and nasty with him.
“Yeah, Zoro? Going to go sneak back to your hideout and drown yourself with sake before swinging your swords around? Fucking weirdo.”
Sometimes he would get really intense about it. He’d seethe with hatred and respond with such loathing that it was a wonder he didn’t do anything about it. “If you don’t leave me alone, I swear I’ll slit your throat.”
“Yeah, jackass? I’m sure you like to dream about that, but you’ll never be able to do it because you’re 1: a pussy and 2: I’m your crewmate, idiot.” Sometimes you’d tease him for having the hots for you (which you thought was false), and he’d get so flushed and angry that you thought he would light on fire.
One night, a group of the crew was drinking on deck. You, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Robin, and Usopp. Everyone was a few cups (or bottles) deep, and what started in raucous laughter ended with people splitting up into small groups or going inside for some snacks.
You and Zoro were unfortunately sitting next to each other, much to your mutual dislike. An offhand comment from Zoro (he was speaking to Usopp) vaguely alluded to you being bad at wielding a sword. It set you off. Your head whipped in his direction. He must have been sitting a few feet away.
“What the fuck did you just say, Zoro?”
He rolled his eyes and waved his hand. “What’s it to you? Can’t you mind your own damn business?”
You bit your lip and shoved the crude and despicable rebuttal back in your throat—it wasn’t worth fighting with him again. You already had a spat earlier that day, which left you both livid. Sometimes you’d goad him into it for fun and games. The added benefit was that he would get even hotter when he was angry. Sure, his personality was shit, but when he sneered and snarled at you he looked damn good. You were in denial about how much his scowls turned you on, but you ignored it because you couldn’t stand the man. He was just an atrocious person all around, and you let him know that every second that you could.
After you heard the comment, you huffed, snatched your bottle up and stormed inside. You were about to smack the shit out of him. When you stood up, the alcohol hit you—you were definitely tipsy, perhaps that was contributing to how enraged you were.
You went into the galley and you were about to grab another bottle when the door opened. Those familiar, maddeningly heavy, swaggering footsteps padded towards you. Presumably, Zoro was coming to grab another bottle of sake. Like he fucking needs one, you scoffed to yourself.
“Oh, great.” He was scornful and sarcastic. “You gettin’ more? Can’t wait to see how annoying you get after this bottle.”
“Zoro, you’re on my last fucking nerve.” You turned around and he was a couple feet away, arms crossed. Something in his eyes looked different.
“Is that so? When am I not on your last nerve? You’re so fuckin’ sensitive, get a grip.”
You bit your tongue, trying to not say something foul. You failed.
“Zoro, I’m so sick of you. Your presence is literally unbearable. I can’t stand you, seriously, not right now. And oh, by the way, you’re a shit swordsman.”
You knew that last part would infuriate him. You wanted to get him riled up. It was a sick form of entertainment for you. And anytime you told him he was a shit swordsman he went ballistic.
“Do you ever shut your damn mouth!?” He stepped forward, his voice angry. He was uncomfortably close. You were leaning back on the counter, trying to create any distance you could between your face and his, but he had you caged in. He put a hand on the counter behind you.
“Always looking to start a fight, huh?” His tone was contemptuous and belittling. “You’re about to bite off more than you can chew.”
The closer he got, the hotter he looked. You hated him, but fuck, he was a sight for sore eyes. When he was up this close, you felt even more intoxicated than you already were.
“And what would that mean?” You stared into his eyes, deadpan and annoyed. You placed it now, you could see what about his eyes looked different—his eyes were ravenous. He looked like he was starving for something. More liquor? You hoped he was hungry for something else.
“You’ve got such a big mouth and you never stop running it.” He was practically growling.
Your heartbeat grew faster, and heat started to bloom between your legs. He was so hot when he was angry. That was part of the fun. Especially when his voice got like that.
“And what are you going to do about it?” You raised an eyebrow at him, and your eyes were deadly.
“Might have to shut you up somehow. Maybe you’ll shut the fuck up if my cock is shoved down your throat.”
You actually laughed. “Oh, what is it? Like three inches?”
He drew his face closer to yours. The hand that wasn’t bracing himself on the counter came to squeeze one of your hips so hard that it hurt.
“I’m about to fuck you so hard I break you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fucking slut.” He murmured, his voice deep and hushed.
Your eyes were locked, eye contact blistering. He was staring into you so hard you thought he’d leave a burn mark on your irises.
“You’re an idiot, Zoro. Are you being serious? You’d cum all over yourself before you even got close to fucking me.”
“Mmmm, we’ll see about that.” He purred. You were speechless, your brain trying and failing to come up with something to throw back at him. It was short circuiting because he just said he wanted to fuck you.
In the moment that you were searching for an answer, his lips crashed into yours. His grip on your hip tightened; it was going to leave a bruise. As your bodies pressed together, you noticed his hard on rutting into you slowly.
The kisses were haphazard and sloppy, teeth knocking. He bit your lip so hard you almost yelped. A hand snuck up to grab a fistful of your hair and he pulled it so tight it’s a wonder he didn’t rip out a huge clump of it.
“You’re fucking useless.” He pulled away from you, murmuring in a husky tone centimeters away from your lips. “You talk all that shit but I know you want me to fuck you. Probably wanted it the whole time.”
“Shut up, Zoro.” You would have enjoyed every second of this if he just shut his trap.
He pushed you up so you were sitting on the counter. Sucking harshly on your neck, he bit it so hard you thought it would bleed. You let out a muffled whine in surprise.
“Are you already getting worked up and I’ve barely touched you?” His voice was poisonous.
“Holy shit, shut up, Zoro.”
“Say that one more time and I’ll put my cock in you.”
You doubled down. You hoped he was serious. “I said, shut the fuck up, Zoro.”
He let go of your hair and hips and proceeded to rip your pants and panties off in one go. He almost shredded the seams. He took in the sight for a moment.
Your eyes were bathed in lust, your breaths shallow and quick already. Your shirt rode up and your nipples were hard.
His fingers wandered to your now bare cunt and he let out a chuckle.
“You’re so fucking wet already. I know you’re going to take it all for me because you’re fucking desperate. Is that right?”
Your mouth went dry and you did the most miniscule of nods. You didn’t want him to know how badly you needed him.
He slid two thick fingers into your entrance then started to finger fuck you. Your walls tightened and pulsed around him, getting adjusted. Pushing them apart, his fingers roamed and prodded. It felt so good that you had to bite your lip to keep the moans back. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“You’ve been craving my cock this whole time like a depraved, touch-starved slut, haven’t you?”
His other hand grabbed a painful fist of your ass and then crept up to squeeze your throat. You let out a barely audible whimper and he felt his cock twitch.
You tried to squeak out words and you were barely successful. “You’re—the one—who’s hard—right now, Zoro.”
It was a lame comeback, but it drove him crazy. “Use your fucking mouth one more time and I’m going to stuff you so full you can’t talk.”
His fingers found your g-spot and pressed on it forcefully. You choked out a breathy “fuck you, Zoro,” and he went still.
“What was that?” His hand around your throat tightened. “Did you not hear what I just said, or are you fucking stupid?”
His fingers started to move twice as fast, and you squirmed. When he could tell you were about to orgasm, he pulled them out.  
He freed his cock from his pants and fisted it lazily for a moment before lining it up with your entrance. “You want this, don’t you? You ran your fat mouth too much, now I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you. Say I’m a shit swordsman one more time and I’ll choke the air out of you until you see stars, then I’ll stuff you full of my cock. But you’d probably like that. Fucking slut.”
“You’re—a fucking—shit—swordsman” you tried to get the words out as his fist squeezed your throat. You couldn’t breathe and you were so aroused that it was hard to focus.
He pushed his cock into your folds and through your slit, entering you inches at a time. You started seeing stars, as promised, and you could only focus on his vice grip around your throat and the sensation of his huge girthy cock stretching you out. He let go of your throat for a moment before bottoming out, and when his tip kissed your cervix he groaned.
“Just look at you. Drooling for my cock, you’re worthless.”
He leaned in so your foreheads touched and pulled out of you agonizingly slow.
“You want more? You want me to fuck you?”
You just looked at him, pouting. You didn’t want to admit it. But you wanted it, and you wanted it BAD. You nodded again and he plunged back into you forcefully. A wet squelching noise sounded into the room when he bottomed out again.
Zoro grinded his hips just enough so he could fuck you deep inside.
“What, the back talk stops the second I put my cock in you?”
You hissed air in through your teeth. “Fuck you, Zoro.”
His jaw dropped for a second and he lost composure, but he kept moving his hips all the same. “What was that?”
“I said fuck you.” You were glaring up at him petulantly.
He pulled his cock out completely and you gasped at the feeling of emptiness.
“Okay, if you hate me so much then I’ll just stop. Is that what you want?”
You could only shit talk for so long before the pleasure started to take over your mind in a haze. All that you knew now was that Zoro was saying dirty things to you and he just took his cock out. That was unacceptable, at this point.
“Zoro.” You whined. “Put it back.”
“Awh, you want me to put it back in?” He feigned pity while you nodded eagerly, throwing all dignity out of the window.
“If you want it that bad, then you need to beg for it like the pathetic little slut you are.”
Your cheeks smarted with blush. You couldn’t believe that you were about to beg for his dick, but you needed it so fucking bad you couldn’t hold back.
“Fuck. Please Zoro. Please keep fucking me.”
Now that he was getting carried away, he wanted to be cruel. You did have a habit of running your mouth, and he wanted to punish you for it.
“Hmm. That’s not quite good enough. If you really want it, say my name. Say my name and I’ll fuck you.”
“Zoro.” You pleaded, your voice strained. He snuck a hand back in your hair and pulled your hair so hard it hurt.
“No. I said, say my name.”
“Roronoa Zoro. Please. I need it.”
“Louder.”
“Roronoa Zoro. P-please.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He pressed his cock into you again with a groan. One hand was gripping your hip, and he moved the other down to rub circles over your clit. Your hips bucked.
You started to let out moans with reckless abandon—you needed it harder, faster, deeper, anything that he could possibly do with his cock, you needed it. The noises melted in his ear, but he was worried that someone would hear, so he kissed you. It actually felt tender at times—if you weren’t lost in pleasure, you’d have been able to feel his thumb rubbing a circle on your cheek. What was up with that?
Between his kisses, he said something filthier with each thrust. “Tell me how good it feels.”
“Fuck, Zoro. Feels so good. Your cock—feels so fucking good.”
His shaft and tip dragged over your g-spot countless times. Each time your moans got louder and the mess you were making on Zoro’s cock got juicier.
“Zoro, ‘m gonna cum.” You were at your wits end.
“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock. Cum for me. Just for me.”
That was all you needed to hear before you started to squirm and writhe with pleasure. Your fingers dug into his shoulders and your eyes rolled back in your head—it was that good. He fucked you through your orgasm and then pulled out to cum on your stomach. He wanted to cum inside, but he figured he’d save that for next time (if you were nice enough to let him).
Moments later, while he got you cleaned up, he admired how flushed you were and how lidded your eyes were with satisfaction.
“Baby, huh?” You giggled.
“What?” Zoro was puzzled.
“You called me baby.”
He turned crimson. “You heard me wrong, blockhead.”
“Mmmhmmm, sure. Now help me put my pants on. There’s no way I can walk after that, baby.”
He was speechless. He knew you were teasing him, but he liked it. Enemies to lovers, much?
You found out later that no one walked into the kitchen while you were fucking because Sanji almost went inside and got quite the eyeful through the mini window on the door. He almost puked at the sight then promptly told everyone “no one go in the galley because the two boneheads are doing something disgusting.”
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𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒔 — 🥂
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𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒙 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
• +18 minors do not interact. unprotected sex, mutual feelings, mutual pinning, public sex, kissing, etc.
divider by the talented @anitalenia 🎀
𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
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This was your first official movie. You’ve been filming for it non stop, the scenes needed to be redone and you just couldn’t keep up anymore. The stress has gotten to you, and you needed to rewind. Hugh has been nothing but supportive, always praising how good of a job you did on the day and how proud he was of you. Today… it’s been different. It’s been only you and hugh and the filming crew. It was a bathroom scene where your character has been crying and Hugh’s character as your ‘boyfriend’ he was going to come in and comfort you. Hugh improvised on the scene, offering that the characters could get closer. The script originally said that the intimate parts should’ve happened at the beginning of the movie but you two changed it a little bit. As your character started to break down in the bathroom, your official feelings and emotions came to the surface and those tears which streamed down your cheeks were not only because of the camera in your face. It was real… you needed a break from the shooting. Crying out loud, heavily you wiped your tears away letting the tap run so the water could cover up your sobbing. The director was so happy with your acting that he even showed you thumbs up— you saw that in the mirror in front of you but you didn’t care. Hugh’s character entered the bathroom shortly and his strong arms coiled around you– you couldn’t help but that hug was needed. You were saying your scripted lines looking at each other in the mirror as he wiped your tears away with his thumb, the look on your face softened and you couldn’t lie. The hug felt like heaven.. the way his towering body brought you close and held you from behind meant everything. God knew you needed the hug so much. Suddenly he turned you to face him, cupped your cheeks and his mouth was on yours. The kiss was nothing but consuming your very soul. You moaned into the kiss cupping his face in your hands not caring you were in front of the rolling camera. Hugh’s tongue slipped past your lips, and you accepted it and it was like you forgot everything around you. When the director shouted ‘cut’ you pulled away and you could see the longing gaze on Hugh’s face. Your gazes lingered a moment more before breaking away and this time you both didn’t burst into laughter. You both separated away from each other, part of you already missed him but you needed a real break. So you spoke to your boss and he gave you a day off. You quickly grabbed your stuff and sped off to your trailer to change and leave the set. Your manager booked you a room in the city in the sunset plaza, and you informed your girlfriends about a night out. You were applying makeup after shower when a knock on your trailer distracted you.
“Yeah? Come in!” You called still turned around guessing it’s your stylist but you didn’t tell her about your day off. “You leaving?” Hugh’s voice surprised you, he never stepped in your trailer in 8 weeks of shooting. Now he was here?
“Yeah, I’m just going out with my girlfriends. How about you? It’s our day off.” You smiled applying a light blush to your cheeks and crossing your legs. You were still in your pink robe, and part of your thigh revealed making hugh told his head and moisten his lips. “I- well, I was just going to tell you that.. I really loved your scene today. It’s, phenomenal. You nailed it, kid.” You chuckled. “Thanks, I can say the same about you. Our characters look great together” you nodded. “Who’s joining you again?” He asked again innocently observing the way you applied your lipstick. Your dress hung on your wardrobe, it was a small dress and matching stilettos. “My girlfriends.” You smiled noticing the look on his face you almost found it too cute. “Wearing that?” He arched a brow. You scoffed “Yes Sir, that. Don’t you like it?” He nodded “I do– it’s just.. it’s almost see through. And it’s short. Oh what the fuck am I saying– have a good time” he sighed getting out of your trailer almost annoyed with himself. “Hugh wait!” You called but he was long gone. You sighed heavily taking your phone, it was almost time to leave and your limo was waiting.
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The night was a progress. You drank champagne, flirted with handsome men and had a good time. Your girlfriends were nothing but happy for you and your new upcoming movie so it deserved to be celebrated. You tried having a good time, you tried not to think about Hugh but it was almost impossible. The look on his face was almost disappointed when you told him you were going out. You’ve spend so much time together lately and you missed him. You became great friends, close friends. Right now he was nowhere to be seen, and you couldn’t help but think of him. “You owe me a dance.” A handsome man approached your vip section offering you his hand and you gladly accepted it, the music blasted and the bar quickly became overfilled with people after midnight. You drunk away your worries on a third glass of champagne. You danced, closing your eyes biting your lips when the man hand his hands all over your body feeling the stress leaving your body.
He was nothing but worried about you, he wanted to know where you went so he dressed and left. He couldn’t help it, he fell hard. After all of those years– he felt desire, want, real feelings to someone and it was you. It wasn’t just your friendship and the amounts of times you two spend together filming and hanging out. It was the way you both shared a meal from one plate, your late night walks and your shopping together, you attending stuff together. Even simple things like going to gym together. The shape of you caused his heart to pound faster, your smile, your pouts, your talent. That pulled him in. He wanted you so badly. But what he found.. was not to his liking at all. Standing in the doorway, he saw you on the dance floor grinding yourself against a certain man who had his hands on your waist tearing anger in Hugh’s chest. He snapped. He didn’t have to drink at all, he saw what you were after. “Fuck..” he sighed pushing past the grinding bodies to get to you. He yanked you by your arm away from the crowd, to the bathrooms. “What the fuck!” You groaned narrowing your eyes at him. “What are you doing?!” You adjusted your dress. “Saving you.” His nostrils flared as he gazed at you certainly annoyed. “You were getting into a situation there and I fucking saved you.” He added breathless locking the door on the bathroom. “What?! What situation! I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want.” You shot back angrily. “You can’t. Not like this.” He whispered under his breath “you gonna take your fucking things, I’m taking you away from here.” You scoffed crossing your arms. “I fucking won’t.” He arched a brow. “Excuse me?” You nodded “you heard me. You’re not my father. You’re just someone who I work with.” You boldly answered looking away. You then noticed what he wore, he wore a suit. Black dress pants with a white dress shirt. Fuck.. he had no idea how much you wanted him. Your pussy pulsated, hidden in your panties. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, his strong cologne hit you in your face. He let out a laugh “Excuse me the fuck.” You shook your head “What do you want?” Sighing backing yourself against the wall. His hands momentarily caged you in, he was giving you that look again. “I thought of you all day..” he whispered kissing your forehead. Even with your high heels on you were exactly to his chest. “Seeing him touch your body like that, I fucking lost it” he admitted breathing in your sweet scent. “Hugh..” you whispered your walls melting away slowly as he scooped you to his arms leaning down only to seek your lips. You kissed, no— you were not that drunk to dream this. It was happening. Your friend.. he was kissing you without cameras around. “Can’t stop thinking about you” you breathed on his lips letting him kiss your cheek, your jawline slowly biting the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You arms swung around his neck and you willingly grinded your pussy against his thigh. Hugh groaned grabbing your thigh. “Can’t forget your behaviour princess..” whispering softly on your ear you moaned running your fingers over his bearded cheeks kissing his lips tenderly. “Can’t be friends with you” you sighed “You know my answer to that..” he huskily replied groping your butt in his large hand. Where did the goofy man disappear? Who was this, making you feel this way. He was someone completely different- man driven by lust and love.
Three more kisses later he held you over the sinks and pounded into you. Eyes locked on yours in the mirror watching the fucked out expression “Couldn’t look at your slutty dress anymore..” he breathed holding your shoulder as he thrusts in and out of your slick heat. “You looked so fucking hot on the dance floor and here you’re, too fucked out on my cock.” You bit your lip eyes watering when his thrusts sped up, the squelching and claps of your bodies working as one could be heard in the empty bathroom. Your fingers grew white as you gripped the sinks watching him as he pounds you “wanted you, wanted you the moment we kissed in the bathroom” you whined pushing back against his groin fucking your self on his cock before he grabbed the back of your neck pulling you up. His arms snaked around your front as he started to pound you even faster “yeah? Now you got me sweetheart.” A breathless smile appeared on his face as he nuzzled your hair groping your bouncing breasts in his hands groaning and moaning under his breath “fuck.. you gonna cum sweetie? Lookatcha all whiny being filled with cock has you ruined” you reached behind to touching his pumping hips feeling his cock twitch in you and you let out a heavy cry “yess.. fuck.. yes..” biting your lower lip as your pussy pulsed and milked his cock, tipping him over the edge he snapped his hips twice and trice– before cumming unloading in you. His hand locked around your neck tilting your face towards him to kiss you with a smile “you’re good to do princess.. my limo. Not yours.” You smiled sated, kissing him back with a little tongue “I’d love to.”
-
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choszen · 13 hours
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★ — il capitano.
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il capitano x florist! reader.
GENRE: smut.
WARNINGS: NSFW. capitano smut. masturbating. fantasizing.
SYPNOSIS: the fatui harbinger, il capitano, had been visiting the flower shop for months now. he never engaged in small talks with you, only scanning the selection of flowers in sight, and only coming by to buy bouquets of flowers. whenever you would hand him the arrangements, he would place a lot of mora on the table and would take his leave in urgency. you often found yourself wondering why never speaks, and why he always appeared to be in a hurry.
MINORS DNI ❕
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CAPITANO was in haze. looking deep into those angel eyes was dangerous, especially when the said eyes were shining so brightly. it sent butterflies fluttering in the pit of his stomach, however, the captain couldn't find it within himself to look away. he didn't even want to. he felt as if his soul had been trapped in this angel's eyes forever, and that the angel was holding him captive with just a look.
“good morning, captain. you're here again!” you smiled, “which flower will you buy today? the usual? we have many lovely ones at our store.” your voice was like the music of angels, it was as melodic as the singing angels.
the first among the eleven fatui harbingers, a god amongst men, his name alone was enough to cause fear in everyone who heard it. so, why aren't you afraid of him? why aren't you shaking in fear? why don't you cower under his power? why are you staring at him with a soft smile that graced your face? what makes you believe that you can be safe around him? no one can truly be safe from the harbingers. he could easily squash you between his fingers, he knows how, but he wouldn't... why should he? he doesn't intended to hurt a girl like you, he has other things planned for you that would bring him joy. “... peonies, and lilies.” capitano spoke, voice low.
his eyes, dark and intense, tracked your every movement like a predator hunting its prey. each subtle shift of your form sent ripples through his composure, and he could feel his fist clenching tightly, the knuckles whitening as he battled against the rising tide of his desires. his control over his desires had always been difficult to come by. in the depths of his mind, the captain wonders how you'll scream his name out loud, how he will feel when he finally have his member inside of you. your body is meant for him, only his. the more he observed the way your casual clothes hugged your body, the more his thoughts wonders on how you will look without those, however, capitano pushed these these thoughts aside before they grow any bigger. now is not the time nor place for such thoughts.
“we're very lucky that you're visiting our humble shop. here are your peonies, and lilies.”
as capitano placed the stack of coins upon the counter, he didn't spare a single glance at you, his urgency propelling him swiftly away from the moment away from you. upon reaching his office, he slammed the door shut with a resounding thud, locking the door behind, ad immediately sank into the embrace of his desk chair. he leaned his forehead against his palm once he placed his helmet at the table. your scent, mixed with a sweet and delicate perfume was still lingering on his nose. the sound of your laughter still echoes in his ears, the way you smiled at him, the sound of your voice, everything about you captivated his senses as his breath hitched with desire. he wanted you to be the one to quench his flames– his growing desire.
there was a painful erection underneath the pants that he wore. he needed to relieve the pressure, the ache that was building up inside of him, and it wasn't long before capitano's hands began to fumble with his belt and once he unzipped his pants, the impressive bulge that grew more beneath his underwear was revealed. he couldn't hold himself anymore. he had spent so much time working on getting his arousal under control, yet, there it was, begging to be taken care off. ah, you should be the one pleasuring him right now, not himself. the point of his dick— his tip, kicked his stomach when he recalled your sweet scent, the way your hands brushed on his when you handed the bouquet. his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. he couldn't even tell whether he wanted to cry or laugh at the same time. his cock pulsated, growing harder and harder with every passing moment he was left alone with his thoughts.
can you even handle him? will he even fit inside you? his body is huge, his length is immense. he knows you can take him, capitano's length is for you to take only. his cock was veiny, twitching and already dripping with pre-cum as it was waiting to be touched. the thought of wrapping your lips around his cock made his mouth fell, his chest moving up and down, and sweats appearing on his forehead. he had never felt so aroused before but at the same time his hands were clammy, shaking and itching to touch himself now. the sudden feelings of capitano's fingers in his dick caused him to let out a small groan, there was a mixture of excitement and arousal flowing in him right now and all he could think of was you.
capitano had his head rolled back with a slight groans escaping through his lips, it has been a long time since he felt this pleasure again as he wrapped his lengthy digits on his cock, moving up and down in such pace. “ah~” he breathed softly, the sight of him stroking himself had turned him into a horny animal. he gripped onto his cock tightly and increased his movements, moving his fingers faster while moaning louder than usual. “t-the things... you do to me... y/n..” capitano mumbled between moans, brows ceased in arousal as he continued to stroke his cock with his thick calloused fingers. in that moment, the captain longed for your hands to caress him, fantasizing your gentle fingertips running over his warm flesh. how divine it would be to give in to your warmth, and feel your soft touch engulfing him in a cocoon of comfort and intimacy. the mere thought of your hands wrapped around his length, ignited a longing desire within him. what a relief it would be, to trade the solitude of his own touch for the blissful sensation of your fingertips.
his eyes rolled back in sheer ecstasy, each moan escaped his lips and grew louder, louder, louder. the captain's head fell heavily onto the polished table, his hands still clenching fiercely around his throbbing member, as if that grip could tether him to the world of sanity. no people should ever come close to making capitano cum so hard, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson. the throbbing sensation that came with each hard and fast stroke, coupled with the increasing heat spreading throughout his whole body. “ah~ y/n... what did you do to me..?” the captain moaned aloud, his voice whiny from the intensity of his pleas. his face, once nonchalant, was now covered in shades of crimson. capitano’s mouth were open, moans and hot breath coming out. there were beads of sweat cascading down his forehead. his eyes rolled back in bliss at the overwhelming pleasure wrapped around him. he was utterly lost, unable to contain the soft whimpers and loud moans escaping his lips.
it didn't matter to capitano that the noise might alert others. his heart was beating like crazy, the feeling of being being inside you, your soft walls, made him lose all restraint on his self and he was whispering your name. capitano had never felt anything like it before. he knew you were the reason for his desire but the idea of telling you that, of showing you his love and passion, seemed too impossible and unreal. “m-my dear angel... forgive me for fantasizing about you...” his words sounded so weak. capitano closed his eyes in pure bliss. “let me make amends for my sins, my angel. please...” he begged, opening his eyes only a slit. the captain's fist were now full of cum as he stroked his shaft over and over again, his breath haggard and his chest heaving. he was going crazy and there was nothing he could do to stop it, nothing to distract him from the feeling coursing through his veins and setting him ablaze from the inside.
capitano could feel his climax approaching and his breathing became heavier and quicker. “...fuck..” he gasped, closing his eyes as he pushed against himself with his fist. “i will make you mine... y/n, my angel..” his legs trembled, his muscles twitched, his teeth were clenched. his eyes drifted shut as he surrendered his cock to the sensations of his own juices leaking down his member and fingers. he didn't know how long he had been doing this, but his body betrayed his exhaustion.
he stared at his swollen cock, and his own cum, watching the last few drops of cum dripping out of the top before it fell on his lap. what a waste. you should've been here to swallow all of it, to taste the most succulent thing that he had been saving for you, to taste every drop of it. he wanted to see your pretty mouth devouring the liquid substance of his own ejaculation.
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dilf-rot · 1 day
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Avoidant Attachment
based on Anon request :  could you do a fic of meeting Logan and wade in the void and joining the team? Logan and you are into each other but are kinda awkward hide behind being mean to each other wades so over it later on smuttt <3333
Word Count: 5841 
Tags: Wolverine x Reader, Worst!Wolverine x Reader, Logan howlett x Reader, Fem!Reader (kinda?), Wade is here too, Meeting in the Void, Deadpool 3, Deadpool and Wolverine, Laura is Also here, 5 people in a one bedroom apartment is a great idea, Althea is here briefly, dogpool mention, slower burn but like not really, mutual pining, Wade and Laura as wingmen, insults as flirting, eventual smut, One bed trope included, P in V, Riding
AN: This one took a lot longer than I was expecting, probably since I haven’t written Wade before and I didn’t want it to suck, and also because I was quite busy irl. Regardless, thank you for the request and your patience, Hope you don’t mind my interpretation of the prompt<3
MDNI 18+
—------------------
The Void. Boring as Hell, and yet somehow worse than hell. At least Hell would grant you company, shitty company, but better than the dust and trash here. You don’t even remember why you got put here. Probably some bullshit you weren’t even responsible for. You had a pretty lame set up, just a hole in the ground really. And you’d find garbage to shift through, look for food. You had managed to do pretty well on your own for a decent amount of time. Other than being lonely, and the occasional breakdown, things weren’t so bad.
The air was stale and unremarkable, as was the sky, no sign of oncoming doom or any excitement for the day. Or so you thought. 
Over the horizon of dusty dirt and forgotten garbage, appeared two silhouettes. 
As they approached, inching closer and closer you debated on whether you should interact or just ignore, they didn’t seem like they had been here long. 
You watched closely waiting for your moment to make a move. Listening to them as they approached.
Deadpool. Common, usually annoying. 
But the one with him. That’s a rather rare sight. You had never seen one of him before.
They seemed like they were on a mission, maybe trying to escape from here. If you could escape, maybe you could return to something approaching a normal life again. 
You decide to take the chance.
“Hello,” You pop out from your little shelter. Both men jolt into action, blades and guns drawn. The man in yellow, the interesting rare man, had blades coming out of his hands. “Oh no, not a threat.” 
They regard each other and then put the weapons away.
“Knew I smelt something,” his voice was rough and it added to his appeal for sure. 
“And you didn’t want to say anything? Some blood hound you are!” Deadpool spoke, punching the gruff one in the shoulder.
“Sorry, I know you’re a Deadpool. But you are?” You point to him. 
“Logan,” “Wolverine,” they speak out in tandem. 
“Right, so… what’re you doing this far out?” 
“Not telling you random dirt dweller,” Deadpool looked back towards Logan, and seemed to be weighing his options.
“Ok well, if you decide to be friendly I could offer my help.”
“You don’t look like you’d be of much help,” Logan retorted as he looked you over. You were obviously smaller and not as strong as either of them, but you had some tricks up your sleeve.
“Ouch, I would be offended if you didn’t have hair like kitty ears.” You pointed up at Logan’s hair and he seemed surprised by your response. “I’ve been in the void longer than you, I’m sure I know some things that would be useful to you,”
“Listen, Kid-”
“Yeah, me and Kitty Cat here are trying to get back at that bald freak show of a woman and escape this hell. So unless you know how to do that, I’d stay out of it, dust bunny.” 
You laugh and look at the state of them, confused but still combative, barely holding it together and hardly friends. “That’s a good one. Good luck with Cassandra then, Ketchup and Mustard.”
Deadpool gasps and Logan seems to have the inklings of a smile on his face but it quickly fades when you turn to look at him. You sit down on a nearby piece of rubble and watch as they take a few steps away and start to argue about what the plan is. You smile and wave when they look back at you.
“Ok, so what do you know?” Deadpool asks, rushing back up to you. And so you do your best to fill him in on as much as you know about the void itself and Cassandra. All of which seems to not be that useful to him as he just sort of brushes it off and continues, “Well as much as I’d love to have you on the team sunshine, seems like Wolvie over there isn’t too keen on it.” He points over to Logan, who turns away and kicks some dust and debris around. “But, between you and me, he’s just bad with girls. Especially pretty ones with quick mouths.” 
You blush a bit but return a quick retort, “That’s fine, not like I have anything to escape back to anyway. Good luck, random Deadpool.”
“It’s Wade.” 
“Right,” You wave as he runs back to Logan. You imagined it wouldn’t be that long before you see them again, mostly because you had planned on following them, or at least trailing them for long enough to find a new place to stay. 
—-----------
You meet them again at the safe house with Laura, she drove them here and plopped them down without a word. She had been very welcoming when you had wandered this way in search of food, and let you join them for a quick meal. You had told her that you saw Wolverine, and her interest had been piqued. She explained to you everything that had happened before she was sent here, and the two of you bonded over not having something to return too. Although now, with this Wolverine sitting in the same space, it seemed like her chances were looking up.
You figured you’d let them be once they woke up, and wait it out. By the time everyone had finished their speeches, you just stood behind them and waved. You didn’t have much to say, everyone else had much more valid reasoning for wanting to escape than you. You could hardly remember life before the void, if you even had one. Luckily, nobody ever bothered to press you about it, probably assuming you had forgotten for a valid reason. So when Deadpool- Wade, asked you for your input, you sort of just shrugged. Listening to them all plotting was entertaining at least, you were sure you would be of much use, maybe an extra distraction, at the very least you could cover them enough to get the job done. 
You noticed Logan slip out with a bottle of liquor in his hands. You gave Laura a nod before following him outside.
He had started a fire, and was sitting watching the flames.
“So how’d someone like you end up with someone like that?” You gesture back up to the house, as you stand against a tree, watching the fire flicker in front of him.
“It’s complicated.” He says taking a swig from the bottle.
“It always is.” Silence runs through the trees, nothing but crackling fire and the dead stale air of the void. “At least he seems fun.”
“Hah,” He breathes out.
“If that’s what you’re into.”
“No.” His gruff demeanor drops for a second, the bottle halting as he brings it down from his lips.
“No?”
He looks you over, before turning away.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll say a prayer for your liver,” You reference the bottle in your hand. He nods, and you walk back up to the house, passing Laura on your way in. She’d probably have better luck cracking him than you.
You wondered if you would ever have a chance to mean something to him, to be more than some small tag along he sniffed out in the dirt. If he would ever find you to be a friend, an ally, someone to talk to, depend on. But you hardly just met, and hardly discussed anything other than half baked insults and nihilistic opinions of the void and your futures.  
—----------------
Wade and Logan had somehow convinced the TVA after everything with Cassandra to allow you and Laura to stay in this universe, and you weren’t sure how or why they wanted you to come along. Laura made sense, he felt responsible for her, and to make up for losing her Logan, to make up for missed moments. 
You? You hardly had a clue why they wanted you here. Or why they offered to let you stay with them until you found something else. You were surprised that Althea would agree to having 5 people sleeping in a tiny apartment. You appreciated the shelter, you were just very very confused by the entire situation. 
“Hello my little floor sleeper, how were your dreams? You were moaning about something…” He slides up next to you in the kitchen as you're pouring a cup of coffee.
“Hi, Wade.” You sip from the mug, not answering his nonsense.
“So,” he jumps up to sit on the counter in front of you, “You gonna spill? Tell me all about your honey badger dream fling? I was surprised you didn’t just wake up and mount him right there on the floor.”
“Shut up, I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, the three of us sleep in the same tiny space, I hear everything.” 
“I’m gonna steal the couch space from you if you don’t drop it.”
Laura had been given a space in Althea’s room since the boys figured she deserved it, and You, Logan, and Wade were stuck in the living room. Rotating between the couch and cheap air mattresses, usually you just stayed on the floor and let Logan and Wade fight over the couch space. Compared to sleeping on grass and dirt in the void, an air mattress was a definite improvement. As long as Mary Puppins didn’t lick you to death in your sleep, it wasn’t a bad deal. 
“Come on, just admit you like Loggie Bear and I’ll get you some alone time with or without the couch.” 
“Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Currently, no.”
You sigh, and walk towards the bathroom to change, locking the door behind you as Wade continues to ramble and try to get you to slip and say something about Logan. But you won’t, even if he is right.
There were many nights where you thought about climbing into bed next to him and pressing your face against his chest, breathing in his scent, being held close to him by those utterly ridiculous arms, having him place warm chaste kisses against the top of your head. But you wouldn’t.  
You hardly knew him, and what you knew about him led you to believe that he was not the kind of man to be interested in someone like you. Although he had become more pleasant after having been invited into Wade’s life. Some days he still was that gruff sort of emotionally unavailable man you met in the void, but other days he’s sweet and gentle and kind, usually whenever Laura’s around. It’s as if he’s been given a reason to live again and he’s navigating how to be a person again. 
After you get dressed, you grab your bag and head out, avoiding Wade and his nonsense. You told Laura you’d meet her after her class and go to a cafe she’s been wanting to try. It’s just down the street from the apartment, but the walk is nice and gives you time to get your thoughts back in order. Trying to keep Wade’s pestering from seeping in and getting you to slip up.
When you get to the cafe, Laura is waiting for you outside. You go in and are met with soft florals, sleek wood finish, and the overwhelming smell of coffee. It is so cozy and bright, a welcome break from the dim and crowded apartment. Laura orders something you didn’t know was a thing, and you opt for a simple latte. She finds this funny and smiles at you, “Don’t you want something sweet?”
“No, I’m alright.” You lean against the wall as you wait for your order.
“What’s with you and Logan’s hatred for sugar?” She asks as she slides over to stand next to you.
“I don’t hate sugar, I’m just not in the mood for it.” You shrug and stare at the counter.
“At least you get milk with your coffee, better than black like Logan drinks.” She laughs again and grabs your order when it’s called. The two of you find a nice table by the window and enjoy watching the people passing by. When a particularly handsome man passes by, Laura perks up and asks, “How about that one?”
“He’s alright, not really my type though,” You shrug your shoulders and take another sip from your cup.
“You’re right, I already know your type.” The grin on your face reminds you of how Wade greets you in the mornings.
“Oh yeah? What's that?” You look at her quizzically. 
“Starts with an L and ends with an ogan”
You groan, “Don’t I get enough of that from Wade?”
“I think everyone can see it but you, even Al.” She looks up at you from her drink, in a way you both know she’s right.
“Wow,” is all you can muster in response. 
“I don’t know why you won’t do something about it, and look if you’re worried about me, don’t be. I give you full permission to pursue my not Dad kinda Dad.” 
You quickly try to change the subject, and once your coffee's finished and you’ve loitered around, you walk back in a knowing silence. 
You do have some sort of crush on Logan, but you feel like it would be too ideal to expect him to share those feelings. Especially when you aren’t one hundred percent sure what those feelings even are. He is exceptionally good looking, and well built. If it weren’t for his confrontational attitude and lack of expression, you’d be so certain in your attraction. But there is something blocking you from fully admitting it to yourself.
Maybe it is simply your lack of self, having to build back an identity from nothing, that keeps you from knowing if He is it for you. Even though sometimes he is all you can think about. When you catch him playing dad with Laura. When you catch him helping Althea, a gentle smile plastered on his face as he speaks soft and gentlemanly. When he falls asleep on the couch with Mary Puppins in his arms. The images of the side he works so hard to hide, the soft domesticity he allows himself so rarely. That is what really sticks in your brain.
Along with the less than innocent images you have carved into your brain. Like that time he forgot you were home and came out from the bathroom only wrapped in a towel. The water clinging to his muscles and dripping from his hair. Or when he had his sleeves rolled up while walking around the apartment, the skin shiny from sweat, and all you could think about was what it would feel like to be held in place by them.
When you remember yourself, both you and Laura have made it back to the apartment. 
—-------
You were surprised that for once, everyone was home for dinner, and it wasn’t even a special occasion. Wade decided that it would be easiest to order some pizzas to avoid having to cook. You didn’t complain, even if you would have preferred a home cooked meal, pizza was fine. Of course he had gone to pick it up and left you with Logan, Laura, and Althea. She, reasonably so, had her spot already picked out in the armchair by the window. Logan and Laura were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, watching something on tv. All the while you sat on the floor, legs folded over each other, leaning back on your hands. 
“Why don’t you come sit on the couch?” Laura had asked, and you knew she already knew the answer, which was that you didn’t want to be so close to Logan that you would be touching. You had been cultivating a very specific environment with him, one where if you could just avoid any close contact with him, you could pretend like your heart didn't ache at the thought of him.
“I’m good here,” You didn’t bother looking away from the tv, which you weren’t even watching. 
“Come on,” Laura patted the cushion next to her. 
“Maybe I don’t want to sit next to the cat,” You looked over your shoulder at them. Logan was leaning back into the cushions behind him.
“I don’t want to sit next to you either,” His tone was only slightly malicious.
“Good.”
“Just sit on the couch,” Laura insisted. 
“No. He reeks, I think the animal dna gave him the scent too,” You waved your hand in front of your nose.
“But I don’t smell,” Laura sniffed her shirt.
“You reek too, ya know?” Logan pointed to Mary Puppins in the corner, “Probably cause you’re always sleeping next to that.” 
“Thanks. She’s actually a better roommate than you.” 
“You all stink,” Althea commented from her spot. 
As you stood up to walk towards the kitchen the door swung open. “PIZZA TIME!” Wade shouted, carrying the stack of boxes into the apartment. 
You ate mostly in silence, as Wade rambled on about something or someone that you had no interest in. Lately he was obsessed with those trashy reality tv shows were people all live in one house and things go wrong one way or another. You felt like you were already living in that, no need to watch strangers go through it too. It’s not that you felt like you were walking on eggshells, or that you weren’t welcome. More so that you were waiting for this whole thing to blow up in your face. 
—---------
It was late in the morning when you managed to roll out of your bed. Logan and Wade had already been awake and were trying their hardest to be quiet. Rather, Logan was quiet, and Wade was not. You didn’t hear what they were talking about, only that Logan mumbled something under his breath and Wade turned to see you sitting up on the floor.
“Good morning sleeping beauty! Pancakes or waffles?” He turned to you and you saw he was wearing one of those tacky ‘kiss the chef’ aprons.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and stood up to stretch, “Whichever you’re less likely to burn.” 
Wade feigned offense, as you walked into the bathroom to brush your teeth and hair. “How do you manage to sleep so soundly down there?” Wade called from the kitchen as you walked back into the living room.
“I don’t.” You pulled out a chair and sat at the dining table, still groggy. “Which is why I need to get a job, and my own place.” 
“You’re leaving me?” Wade gasped, and crossed his hands over his heart. “How could you? What about the kids?” He started making a big fuss about it as if you hadn’t told him before that this had been your plan. “I can’t believe you would leave me alone with honey badger and the little ones! I can’t raise them alone.”
“Everyone that lives here is an adult, Wade.”
“Let her be,” Laura said as she slid into the kitchen and sat next to you. She smiled at you and nodded. 
Wade and Logan joined you at the table, sliding the plates of pancakes to you and her. They weren’t burnt, which was progress. 
—--------
You had spent the day job hunting, and apartment hunting, which was not as important since you kinda needed the money first. The cafe you had been to with Laura was hiring, though not having much of a resume due to the whole void and lack of a world thing, probably meant your chances of getting hired were slim. You submitted an application anyway, and to a few other shops and things in the area. Hopefully something would stick.
There really weren't many options in the area for apartments either, but when you ran into the building manager they had mentioned that one of the other units on your floor might be opening up soon. It wasn’t ideal to be in the same building as Wade and the others, but it was your only lead at the moment. 
When Wade got home, he had a sort of look in his eyes, which you had learned meant something was up. And when Laura came home with the same sort of look, you were even more suspicious. 
“What are you two doing?” You asked, approaching them in the kitchen.
“Well I thought I could do something nice for you,” Wade had his hands behind his back, holding something hidden from you. “And Logan,” he whispered but you still caught it.
“What?” Logan appeared from the bathroom, and leaned against the wall.
Wade handed you a piece of paper, “Tada!” You looked over the paper, it was a reservation confirmation for a hotel. “A magical getaway for you and the kitty cat to work out your differences at an all inclusive resort!”
“This is a Best Western.” The dates on the sheet were for tomorrow, Friday, until Sunday morning. 
“Did I stutter?” Wade stood with his hands on his hips.
“Who said I wanted to do this?” Logan asked, coming up behind you to look at the paper. He was so close you could almost feel his warmth against you. 
“Come on, you complain about the air mattress all the time,” Laura started, “This is your chance for a real bed.”
“Ok? So why do I have to go with her,” He was looming behind you, and the deep vibrations of his voice made your cheeks redden.
“It was cheaper to have two guests than one.” 
“Fine,” He walked away. You were also surprised that he would so quickly agree to something like this. As it was so obviously a set up. A plot against you.
“Perfect! Now go get packing!” Wade slapped you on the shoulder, and smiled. You knew this was all his idea. 
—-------
You were expecting this to be a set up, but when you opened the door and saw only one bed you knew it to be true. Logan walks in while you hold the door and he drops down onto the edge of the bed. You sigh as you drag your bag in and make a mental note to get back at Wade later. You turn the TV on to try to dispel the oppressive silence in the room, but all that's on the hotel cable is questionably written Hallmark movies. Logan shifts on the bed, and you hear it creak under his weight. You wonder what he would feel like on top of you, if he would crush you entirely.
 You sit in the chair that's against the wall, peering out through the cracks in the curtains to stare out at the parking lot, the sun is low against the horizon, and it’s surprisingly quiet. You can hear the fabric of the cheap hotel sheets rustling under Logan, along with the sound of his breathing, as he leans back into the bed, and you wonder how long you’ll be able to survive in a small room alone with him.
Despite having slept in the same room for the past few months, this is an entirely different situation. There’s no Wade, or Laura, or Mary puppins, or Althea. It is just you and him, in a hotel room, with one bed. Which was certainly a set up from Wade, in his quests to get you to admit your feelings for Logan. 
“Are you hungry?” You try to break the silence in the most mundane way possible, at least to save yourself from the discomfort.
“I could eat,”
“We could get room service?”
“Fine by me.” You toss him the menu and once you both decide on what to get you call it in. It was going to take a while, so you decided to take advantage of the luxury of a hotel shower. Telling Logan you wouldn’t be too long and to let you know if the food came before you were done. 
The shower is nice, clean white tiles, and a rather standard sort of set up. It is nice to have some time to yourself, despite Logan being in the other room, you try to allow yourself this time to relax. Letting the hot water soak into your skin and soothe your aches and pains. The sound of the water blocking out any thoughts or concerns about the current situation, letting you forget, at least momentarily, that you would be having to sort out the sleeping arrangements. The hotel soap is tropical, but gentle, not too overwhelmingly sweet or fruity. As you lather up you can barely hear the sounds of the tv in the other room. It is so still and unremarkable. It feels normal, but somehow you wonder if you can ever shake the loneliness of time in the void, if you can allow yourself to have a normal life again. As if you can build back something you don’t even remember. As if you deserve this space that has miraculously been carved out for you, for some reason unbeknownst to you. 
Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door, and the noise of Logan’s steps going to retrieve the room service. You quickly rinse and towel off, wrapping up your hair and sliding into the hotel bathrobe. 
“Food’s here,” Logan calls from behind the bathroom door. You wait until you hear him sit back down on the bed before opening the door and returning to your spot in the chair. 
The two of you eat in silence, and you can’t help but notice his eyes on you. You wonder if it is just in your head, or if he is actually trying to steal glances at you from across the way. You tried to ignore him, to stare fully at the trash tv movie, or at the weird art on the walls. Anything but him. If you could just pretend like he wasn’t there, you could make it for the next two nights. 
Although being this close to him in a small hotel room was not the ideal scenario to make forgetting about him easy. His breathing was audible. His presence was palpable. Even the vague scent of whiskey, cigars, and sweat was radiating from his position on the bed. Every little detail filled your mind with a fog, and all that was running through your brain was him. Over and over. Logan was everywhere. 
“You want to sleep soon?” His voice cut through the haze and you practically snapped your neck to look over at him.
“Hm? Oh… uh yeah probably.” You couldn’t help but look directly into his eyes, and you felt like you should disappear so that he couldn’t make you feel so foolish. So utterly trapped by the idea of him. “I can Just take the cushions from the chair and sleep on the floor,”
“That defeats the whole point of Wade’s gift.”
“So?” You started pulling the cushions of the chair and throwing them on the floor.
“You can sleep up here in the bed,” His voice was commanding. It was no longer a polite suggestion. “I don’t bite.”
“Right but-” As you go to protest, he interrupts.
“We can face opposite ways.” 
And so that is how you ended up in your pajama shorts and a ratty tee shirt, in bed with Logan. Who, true to his word, had his back facing you, and you had your back facing him. You could hear your heart beating, and no matter what you told yourself you could not get it to slow down. His presence, only inches away, was consuming you. Your mind is unable to stop racing with images of him holding you down, touching you, eating you alive. Making you squirm beneath him. You squirmed and thrashed trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, but even with your eyes screwed shut you couldn’t.
“Stop moving,” Logan’s voice was low and rumbly. He turned towards you, and laid his arm over your middle, pulling your back against him. “Go to sleep,” He murmured, his lips against the back of your head. 
He was warm and solid behind you, his body pressed to yours gently. His grasp on you wasn’t tight, but the sheer weight of him kept you firmly in place. As you tried to quell your heart and steady your breathing, you finally managed to drift asleep. And stay asleep, the entire night. 
—-----
The hotel was so quiet and peaceful, and clean, compared to the apartment. You managed to sleep soundly, and stay asleep until late in the morning. You had nearly forgotten about the situation, until you were met with Logan’s arm still snuggly wrapped around you as you opened your eyes.
His lips were pressed to the back of your head, his muscular frame firmly pressed against your back. His grip had tightened in the night, and he had pulled you even closer to himself. As you tried to remove yourself from him, he grumbled against you, “Stay.”
“Logan-” You tried to protest, to escape from the growing embarrassment and heat building up in your body.
“Just a bit longer.” He groaned, and pressed himself further into you. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the growing bulge against your lower back. 
“Logan, please. Let me get up.” You pushed against his arm, and tried to pull yourself away but you were no match for him. 
“Why?” His voice was losing the grogginess of sleep, he was almost fully awake now. 
“Because-” You tried again to free yourself.
“Don’t you like me?” He sounded cocky, the question perhaps meaning to be playful but it stopped you dead in your tracks.
“I-” You stiffen, unable to react accordingly. 
“Then, stay.” Taken aback by his words and sudden clingy behavior, you realized that maybe Laura had been right, and everyone, including Logan, could see it. The way you had begun to feel about him, the almost immediate crush you developed as soon as you spotted him in the void, the way you felt thankful to have the chance at life again, simply because you wanted the chance to spend it with him.
You lay stuck in his arms for an unknown amount of time, the silence makes you a little uneasy, but his warmth and tenderness keeps you from leaping away. You didn’t imagine him to be someone so gentle, although you had glimpsed some of his more domestic behaviors when he thought it was just Him and Laura at home, and he would fuss over her like how you would want a good father to do. You felt safe and held by him, the frantic thoughts and anxieties being melted away into the warmth of him and his body against yours. 
As you nearly drift asleep again, he speaks, “Turn around.” And so you do, clumsily, but when you see his face those frantic thoughts and the racing of your heart begins again.  
“So pretty like this,” He murmurs, his face and voice soft. And before you can respond he closes the gap between you, his hand lacing in your hair and pulling you into him as he presses his lips against your gentle and steady. The brief taste of him makes you crave more.
As he pulls away to search your face for any signs of discomfort, you pull him back to you, your hands reaching up to his face to crash your lips into his. You whimper against him as his hands run down your spine and land on your hips, pulling you as close to him as he can. You can feel your arousal pooling between your thighs as he darts his tongue in to meet yours, twisting and tangling yourself with him as much as you can. The months of unspoken tension pouring out of you and dissipating as you desperately try to push yourself against him. You bring your hand down to paw at his bulge, darting your fingers across the fabric of his pajama pants. 
He smiles against you as he catches your hand with his and bring it under the waistband. You gasp when you realize he had not been wearing anything underneath his pants. Your fingers wrapping around him, the warmth and size of him in your hand making your head spin. 
His hands find their way to the edge of your shorts, pulling them and your panties down your legs as he breaks the kiss only for a moment to find his breath. His fingers trace up and down your thighs, pressing gentle circles into the skin before he pushes his hand between them, his palm pressing into you. The brief friction against your clit drawing a short moan from you. His hand rubs against you, the pressure making you grind down to meet him, craving more.
You whine as he pulls his hand away, only for him to grab your hips and pull you on top of him. His back against the bed as he brings you to straddle him. You kick your shorts and panties away, as he pulls his pants down further. His erection springing up against you. You can barely focus long enough to glimpse the size of him, too overcome with greed and arousal. 
You sink yourself onto his cock as his hands guide your hips. You moan at the stretch of it. He lets you catch your breath as you take him down to the hilt. His hands never leave you as he kisses and nips along your neck and shoulders, your head pressed against his shoulder as he begins to rock into you, whispering praises and filth against your skin. 
You grind your hips against his, the head of his cock dragging along that magic spot inside of you that causes the pleasure to build and the knot in your stomach to tighten. He growls in your ear as you tighten and pulse around him. You can feel the pressure building, making your head spin. He slips his fingers into your mouth and you greedily accept them, sucking and licking and kissing along them. He removes them and a trail of your saliva beads down them. He brings them between you to rub circles on your clit. The sensation dizzying, as he draws you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans are frantic as you practically pant against him, begging him not to stop, that you’re so close, so so close. 
With one steady thrust he snaps the last thread and you come undone around him. The feeling of you cumming around him bringing him to his limit, if he wasn’t so enraptured by you he might have been embarrassed with how quickly you’ve made him cum. His warmth fills you as you come down from your high, hazy and drooling. You smile as he presses you against him. You don’t mind staying like this, you whine when he tries to move.
“Alright, princess. I’ll stay.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
97 notes · View notes
its-avalon-08 · 9 hours
Text
it all fell down (ln4)
part11
multipart story! part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8 part9 part10
✦ pairing - lando norris x female reader
very important note at the end - pls read it
summary : lando norris and y/n were friends for 20 years, fell in love and dated for five. until it all fell down. they left each others lives abruptly and never spoke again, until they met again in the most unexpected way. can they find their way back or will certain scars never heal?
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Y/N and Lando walked back to her apartment in silence, the cool rain still falling lightly around them. Their hands were entwined, the contact grounding them as they made their way through the quiet streets. Every step felt like a promise, every glance a reassurance that they were finally on the same page, ready to confront the past that had haunted them for so long.
As they entered Y/N’s apartment, the familiar warmth of the space enveloped them. She flicked on the lights, casting a soft glow over the room, and dropped her keys on the counter. For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of what had happened between them settling in the air.
Lando took a deep breath, breaking the silence. “We should talk.”
Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. “Yeah, we should.”
They moved to the couch, sitting down with a cautious distance between them, the tension from before replaced with a more vulnerable kind of anticipation. The kind that came from knowing that the next few minutes could either heal them or break them all over again.
Y/N was the first to speak, her voice trembling with emotion. “I never wanted things to end the way they did. I was just… scared, Lando. Scared of how much you meant to me, scared of losing myself in you. I didn’t know how to handle it.”
Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at her, the pain of their breakup still fresh in his memory. “I get it, Y/N. I was scared too. But the way we both handled it… the things we said…”
His voice broke slightly, and Y/N reached out, her hand finding his. “We hurt each other so badly,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ve never regretted anything more than the way I treated you. I thought pushing you away would make it easier, but it just… destroyed us.”
Lando squeezed her hand, his own eyes glistening with tears. “You said dating me was a mistake, and it killed me, Y/N. I kept hearing those words over and over, wondering if you ever really loved me at all.”
Tears spilled down Y/N’s cheeks as she shook her head, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean it, Lando. I was so angry, and I just wanted to hurt you because I was hurting. But I never, ever believed that. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Lando’s breath hitched, his own tears now falling freely. “It wasn’t just you, though. I said things too, things I can’t take back. I was so hurt by what you said, I wanted you to feel the same pain I was feeling. But all it did was tear us apart.”
Y/N leaned closer, her voice breaking with emotion. “I hated myself for letting you go, for saying those things. Every day, I missed you, Lando. But I was too proud, too scared to admit that I was wrong.”
Lando’s hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. “I missed you too, more than I can even explain. But I was so angry at you, and at myself. I felt like I wasn’t enough for you, like I couldn’t make you happy.”
Y/N shook her head, more tears falling. “You were everything to me, Lando. I was just too blind to see it at the time. I let my fear control me, and I lost the most important person in my life because of it.”
Lando’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke. “I felt the same way, Y/N. I lost myself in the anger, in the pain of losing you. I started acting out, trying to forget, but nothing worked. Nothing made me feel better.”
The air between them was heavy with all the unsaid words, all the pain that had been bottled up for so long. Y/N’s heart ached as she looked at Lando, seeing the hurt in his eyes, knowing she had put it there.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “For everything. I wish I could take it all back, Lando.”
Lando shook his head, pulling her closer. “We can’t change the past, but we can start over. We can try again, if you still want that.”
Y/N’s tears flowed freely as she nodded, her heart swelling with hope. “I do, Lando. I want that more than anything. But I don’t want to hurt you again.”
Lando pressed his forehead to hers, his voice a soft, broken whisper. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N. Together this time. No more running away, no more pushing each other away. Just us, facing whatever comes together.”
Y/N let out a sob, the weight of the past finally lifting from her shoulders. “I love you, Lando. I never stopped.”
Lando’s own tears fell as he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if he would never let go. “I love you too, Y/N. And I’m not going anywhere.”
They held each other for a long time, their tears mingling as they finally let go of the pain that had kept them apart for so long. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, ready to start over.
Y/N and Lando sat on her couch, the heaviness of their earlier conversation giving way to a lighter, more playful atmosphere. The weight of their past had been lifted, leaving space for something new—something familiar, yet fresh.
Y/N curled up, tucking her legs under her as she sipped on the hot chocolate Lando had made. She glanced at him, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “So, tell me… how many dates did you go on while we were broken up?”
Lando raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Me? Dates? Nah, I was just too busy being a ‘man of mystery’ or whatever the tabloids were calling me.”
Y/N chuckled, nudging his shoulder. “Oh, come on. You know I kept tabs on you. You weren’t exactly subtle about it.”
Lando grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Okay, fine. I went on a few dates… but none of them ever felt right. I’d be sitting there, trying to make conversation, but all I could think about was how you would have rolled your eyes at the things they were saying.”
Y/N laughed, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. “Well, for the record, I didn’t date much either. I tried, but every guy just felt… off. They weren’t you.”
Lando’s smile softened as he looked at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “So, we were both equally terrible at moving on, huh?”
“Pretty much,” Y/N admitted, laughing. “I even went out with this one guy who was super into cars, hoping it would make things easier. But all I could think about was how much you’d love to debate him on whether Ferrari or McLaren was better.”
Lando snorted, shaking his head. “That poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”
Y/N giggled, the sound light and infectious. “Nope, not at all. And every time I’d see a photo of you with some model, I’d convince myself that I was totally over you… but then I’d stalk your Instagram and see your stories, and I’d realize I was just lying to myself.”
Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I may have done some stalking myself. I’d see you posting about all the new things you were doing, and I’d try to convince myself that you were happier without me. But it only made me want to reach out more.”
Y/N shook her head with a smile. “It’s kind of sad, isn’t it? We were both trying so hard to move on, but we couldn’t stop thinking about each other.”
“Sad?” Lando repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I think it’s kind of sweet. We’re both just hopeless when it comes to each other.”
“Yeah, hopeless,” Y/N agreed, her voice softening. “I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with your best friend.”
Lando’s expression grew tender as he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I missed you so much, Y/N. No one could ever compare to you.”
Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, and she placed her hand over his, squeezing it gently. “I missed you too, Lando. Every single day.”
They sat there in comfortable silence, their fingers intertwined, both of them reveling in the warmth of their reunion.
Lando glanced at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, if we’d just swallowed our pride a little sooner, we could have avoided all those awful fucking dates.”
Y/N laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “True. But then we wouldn’t have these funny stories to tell.”
“Fair point,” Lando conceded, grinning. “And, hey, at least we know now that no one else stands a chance.”
Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “No one ever did, Lando. It was always you.”
Lando wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “And it was always you for me, too.”
As they sat there, cuddled up on the couch, the weight of the past fell away entirely, leaving only the warmth of the present. They were no longer two people trying to move on from each other—they were two people who had finally found their way back home.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------avaspeaks - hi lovelies! im so sorry for being gone for so long, exam prep threw me for a toss and i was so occupied and busy. but now im back for good and ready to update the blog. i felt so awful for not updating because i know the frustration when a series is just left unfinished. but worry not because your girl is back and ready to finish all the requests and series!
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taglist ---> @misspygmypie @kol67-t @sltwins @f1fantasys @sarx164 @imboredway2much @demandealalune e @elz-xo o @bellelovesharryy @hey-there9-its-me @marauders-wife @itsjustfranzi @l-sofiamia-l @ironmaiden1313 @01rrdbull @avni-sarai @maddy27
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2amriize · 1 day
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˚⟡˖ RIIZE angry confessions
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst, fluff pairing riize x reader
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ᯓ★ SHOTARO
Shotaro had been in love with you for a while, but he always felt that you only saw him as a good friend. Because of this, he decided not to confess his feelings. You two had known each other for years, and although he only realized his feelings a few months ago, he had always felt a bit strange when he saw you with other guys. Back then, he didn't admit it, but he was jealous. He couldn't understand why, despite laughing with him more than anyone else, you still seemed to prefer other guys. Deep down, he felt like he wasn't enough.
Since he realized he was in love with you, you hadn’t mentioned liking any other guys, so Shotaro hadn't felt jealous in a while—until it happened.
One day, while you were having an afternoon snack at a café with Shotaro, something you did often, you spotted a guy from your class who you thought was really cute entering the café. You couldn’t help but feel nervous.
"Oh my god..." you murmured, trying to look away.
“What’s up?” Shotaro asked, turning to see what had caught your attention.
“It’s that guy from my class… He’s…”
“Oh, do you have a crush on him?” Shotaro glanced at the guy for a few seconds before turning back around and letting out a small sigh. “He’s not good for you.”
“Huh? Why do you say that?”
“He looks like trouble. And I don’t think he’s right for you.”
Shotaro had never said anything like that to you before, and it made you a bit angry. What was he implying?
“Since when do you care about what's good for me, Shotaro?” you asked, giving him a serious look, clearly upset by his words. He looked back at you in silence for a few seconds.
“Since I…” He bit his lip and shook his head. “Nevermind.”
“Since what, Shotaro? Why do you suddenly care about the guys I like? It’s none of your business…”
“Because I’m in love with you, Y/N!” Shotaro cut you off, standing up and looking at you intensely. “That’s why, alright? Are you happy now?” He grabbed his things and stormed out of the café.
ᯓ★ EUNSEOK
It was the way Eunseok looked at you that made everyone else realize how much he liked you. Well, everyone except for you. From the moment he met you, Eunseok knew he had feelings for you, but there wasn’t much he could do about it because at the time, you were dating someone else.
When you broke up with that guy, Eunseok was there for you whenever you needed him, supporting you. But that was all he could do—be by your side—because he felt like you didn’t see him the same way he saw you. Even though everyone always mentioned how Eunseok looked at you, you would always reply with, “I don’t know why everyone keeps saying that, Eunseok looks at everyone like that…”
To be honest, sometimes you had thought about it—whether Eunseok really had feelings for you like everyone said—but it didn’t make sense to you, so you would quickly brush it off. On the other hand, Eunseok was finding it harder and harder to contain his feelings. It never seemed like the right moment to confess, especially since you had been going through an on-again, off-again relationship with the same guy for a while, something Eunseok couldn’t stand.
“You got back with him again?” Eunseok asked with a sigh as you both sat on the grass at a friend’s birthday party. You had stepped outside to get some fresh air.
“Yeah… I feel like it’s what I should do.”
“Why, Y/N? Sometimes you make the dumbest decisions…”
“Excuse me?” You looked at him, surprised by the way he spoke. Eunseok had always supported you, and this was the first time he sounded frustrated. “It’s not dumb…”
“Isn’t it? To keep chasing after someone who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve?”
“What do you mean, Eunseok? He treats me well… we just have a few little fights sometimes. Besides, I go back to him because he’s the only one who cares about me at the end of the day, because…”
“Oh my god, Y/N, how can you be so blind?” Eunseok interrupted, looking at you with clear frustration.
“What…?”
As he stood up to go back inside, he murmured, “I don’t understand how you can’t see that the person who loves you the most is right in front of you…”
ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN
Sungchan had been looking out for you since day one. You had known each other since elementary school, and ever since then, you had always been together. He was always by your side, making sure you were okay and safe. You two spent so much time together that people who didn’t know you well often thought you were dating, something you always denied immediately to avoid awkwardness.
Sungchan never took it personally when you denied it—he tried to brush it off quickly—until it happened in a situation unlike any other before. You had never had a boyfriend, mostly because you hadn’t really been interested in any guys… until now. There was this one guy you’d been noticing lately, someone you found intriguing, but you hadn’t told anyone about it because it made you a little shy.
To your surprise, your friends invited this guy to a lunch gathering that you and Sungchan were also attending. When you saw him approaching with your friends, you couldn’t hide your nervousness, which Sungchan immediately noticed. And, as usual, the guy asked how long you and Sungchan had been together.
“No, him and me? We’re not a couple. Not at all. Never,” you said quickly, letting out a nervous laugh.
Sungchan stared at you in silence. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. Normally, you would simply say, “No, we’re just friends,” but this time, it felt like you had overreacted, and it hurt him. As you continued talking more with the guy, Sungchan started to feel left out (and jealous), so he let out a small laugh and walked away to another spot.
It took you a few minutes to realize Sungchan was no longer there, behind you, where he had always been. Confused, you quietly excused yourself from the group to go find him. After searching for a bit, you finally found him leaning against a tree, sipping his drink. You approached and touched his shoulder, and he looked at you with an expression you had never seen on him before.
“Why did you leave, Sungchan? Did something happen?”
“It seemed like you didn’t need me there anymore,” he said, turning his gaze away from you.
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t know you hated the idea of people seeing us as a couple… or rather, that he saw us as a couple.”
“Sungchan, you know that’s not it. We’re not dating, you know? I always say the same thing. I don’t get why you’re acting like this now…”
“I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn’t see?” Sungchan turned to face you, locking eyes with you for a few seconds.
“What… what do you mean…?” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“It’s… nevermind,” he said, walking away.
ᯓ★ WONBIN
Wonbin was a friend of one of your friends, and although you had met him several times before, you didn’t really start talking until a few months ago. To both of your surprise, you had a lot of common interests, which meant you had been talking more and more lately.
Whenever you hung out with your group of friends, it wasn’t unusual for you and Wonbin to spend the entire time together, which led to people starting to suspect there was something going on between you two. However, everyone knew that you had been interested in another guy for a while, a guy who constantly gave you mixed signals. But you were so blinded by the way he treated you that you couldn’t see he was just playing with your feelings.
This was something Wonbin knew, and it was starting to bother him more and more. At first, he didn’t care much, but the more he got to know you, the more frustrated he became with how this guy was treating you. And that’s when he realized that maybe he didn’t see you just as a friend anymore. The moment he came to that realization, he regretted it, knowing that you only had eyes for someone else, and he felt like you’d never notice him.
One evening, you were hanging out with your friends, and for some reason, you all decided to drink. Wonbin wasn’t very good at drinking, so it didn’t take long for him to get tipsy, his cheeks flushed. When Wonbin got drunk, he became even more affectionate than usual. You had also been drinking, but it didn’t affect you as much.
At one point, Wonbin went outside to get some fresh air because he was feeling a bit dizzy, and you followed him to check if he was okay. While outside, you started talking about the guy you liked, and unlike usual, Wonbin didn’t respond or pay much attention. When you noticed he was staring off into the distance, you looked at him.
“Wonbin? Are you okay?”
He stared at you for a few seconds, and just when it seemed like he was about to say something, he sighed and buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Do you like that guy so much that you can’t see what he’s doing to you?”
“Huh? What are you talking about, Wonbin? He treats me really well…”
“Yeah, that’s what you think…”
“You don’t have the right to talk about him like that when you don’t even know him,” you said, getting annoyed at how Wonbin was speaking badly about him.
After a few seconds of silence, Wonbin looked at you and shook his head.
“…This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”
“What are you talking about, Wonbin?”
“I just… wish you wouldn’t keep seeing that guy.”
“You don’t have the right to say that.”
“I wish I did.”
ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN
Everyone, even you, knew how much Seunghan liked you. But you always ignored his feelings because you preferred not to face that reality. You had been friends for so many years that you didn't want to risk your friendship over it. Still, you couldn't deny that you treated him differently from everyone else, being much more affectionate and always relying on him when you needed someone. Seunghan was always there for you, no matter what. It didn’t matter if you were on the other side of the city and only needed a pen—he would come and bring it to you. That’s how much you meant to him, and everyone could see it.
That’s why, when he heard from others that you were starting to get to know another guy, he felt his heart break a little. He knew you two weren’t a couple and that he had never confessed his feelings, but it still hurt to find out from someone else, especially when you knew how he felt. The thought of you with another guy was something he couldn't stand.
He tried to distance himself from you for a while after hearing the news, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t say no when you asked him to pick you up from class to take you home, even though he knew you probably had an important date. Despite knowing this date might be with the other guy, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse, so he picked you up just as you had asked.
The whole ride, he was quiet and serious, something you found odd since Seunghan had never behaved like this around you. He was always so sweet and cheerful when he was with you.
"Seunghan, is something wrong? You seem really serious," you asked when he parked in front of your house after the silent ride.
"No, don't worry," he murmured without looking at you.
"I know something’s bothering you…"
"Don't you have to go get ready for your date?"
The way Seunghan looked at you and the tone he used when mentioning your date made you realize he knew about it, and he seemed quite upset.
"Seunghan, you know I care about you a lot, but it’s just…"
"You know. You know I love you and took full advantage of the fact that I'd do anything for you. And I know that. I just kept at it, hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."
You froze after hearing Seunghan’s words. You couldn’t help but feel bad for making him feel this way, though it was never your intention. Before you could even respond, Seunghan spoke again.
"Just… get out. You’re going to be late."
ᯓ★ SOHEE
There had always been a sort of romantic tension between you and Sohee. Both of you were playful and touchy with each other, but that was all—just tension. Even though you both probably had feelings for each other, neither of you had confessed.
In fact, you were always waiting for him to confess, but that moment never seemed to come. The longer you waited, the more tired you grew of holding onto hope. Yet, despite that, you couldn’t seem to let go of the idea of him.
Knowing all of this, you still couldn’t ignore the guy who approached you at the party. You had come to the university party with Sohee, but he had gone off to talk to his friends. The guy, someone you hadn’t seen before, wasted no time approaching you once he saw Sohee wasn’t by your side.
You two talked for a while, and the guy even brushed your arm occasionally while locking eyes with you. You couldn’t deny feeling a bit nervous around him. He was charming and very attractive. After chatting for a bit, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, promising you’d be right back.
You didn’t expect to find Sohee waiting for you outside the bathroom. You quickly noticed he’d had a few drinks.
"Sohee, have you been drinking?"
"Who was that guy?"
"Are you talking about the one I was talking to earlier? He’s a new guy at our faculty. He’s pretty nice. I was about to go back and talk to him."
"Don’t go back to him," Sohee muttered, lowering his head.
"Sohee, you can’t decide what I do."
"I know I can’t, but I don’t want you to talk to him again."
"Sohee, you’re just drunk and saying things that don’t make sense," you said, walking past him, heading back to the party.
"Y/n, I love you," you heard Sohee murmur as he grabbed your wrist, only to let it go after a few seconds. You looked at him, stunned, for a moment. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?" he said before walking away into the party, leaving you standing in the hallway, unsure of what to say or do.
ᯓ★ ANTON
You and Anton had been best friends for as long as you could remember. You went to the same school, and your mothers were close friends, so you spent many summers together. Even after graduating, you both ended up attending the same university, so you still saw each other daily.
It felt like you two were inseparable—until you started getting to know another guy. It took you a while to tell Anton about him since you’d never really talked about that kind of stuff before. When you finally did, you thought he took it well at first, but you noticed him starting to act strange, becoming more distant.
Although he said nothing was wrong, he always had excuses to avoid walking home with you, claiming he had plans to study with classmates in a café, something you found odd since he didn’t like studying in public. Even so, you decided to trust him and give him the space he seemed to need.
One day, as you were heading home, you spotted Anton walking in the distance. It had been a while since you’d seen him in person, so you decided to catch up with him. He smiled briefly when he saw you, but then quickly looked away and started walking faster.
"Anton, I feel like you’ve been acting weird these past weeks. Is something wrong?"
"Huh? No, you know… exams, new people… It’s just that. Nothing’s wrong."
"Are you sure? I feel like you’re pulling away from me, and if I’ve done something wrong, I want to know."
"Nothing’s wrong, y/n. You’ve just got other friends now, and I get it," he mumbled coldly. You stood there, thinking for a moment. In high school, you’d made new friends, and yet you and Anton still acted like you always had. Why was this time different?
"I feel like you’ve been off ever since I told you about Ricky…"
"Y/n. I just… don’t want to talk about it."
"Well, I do, Anton. I feel like you’re being selfish, only thinking about how you feel and not about how you’re making me feel," you said, frustrated, stopping in the middle of the street. Anton turned to look at you, serious.
"Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened, and I can’t do shit about it."
"You… what?"
Anton stared at you for a few seconds, pressing his lips together before turning his back on you.
"Forget it, y/n. I’m just tired from all the studying."
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ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori
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owuwi · 2 days
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NATALIE SCATORCCIO
summary: she can't be into you, so why not distance herself?
pairings: natalie scatorccio x fem!r
warnings: angst, a tiny bit suggestive, detailed description of throwing up, internalized homophobia from natalie
2.0k words
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Natalie wasn't into girls. She wasn't opposed to fucking them but she wasn't romantically attracted to them. Or at least that's what she thought until she started seeing you in a different way.
You were the whole package; not only were you easy on the eyes but you actually cared about Natalie. That's why she immediately started to distance herself from you the moment she realized that she was starting to get too attached.
A bit of context here; you were Nat's person. You were the only one who she trusted enough to talk about every single shit that happened to her. You were always there for her no matter what and she even tried to 'return the favor' and be there for you — though it didn't always work but at least she tried —.
You protected her, you defended her and she — grumpily — allowed you to. She'd be lying if she said that it didn't make her feel good, that it didn't make her feel safe, but she simply wasn't ready to admit it. She wasn't someone easy to be around, let alone date, so she thought that avoiding you was her way of protecting you back.
Your friends and even Natalie's didn't understand why you were so persistent about her, why you tried so hard to show people that she wasn't a bitch or any of those terrible things they called her, but you weren't doing it for them, you were doing it for Nat. You needed her to stop being so harsh on herself. Your efforts didn't go unnoticed by the dirtyblonde-haired girl, in fact, it only made her like you even more.
She skipped school today which was something you were already used to, but you were worried about her thanks to the fact that she hasn't been calling you back nor meeting you at your spot — yeah, you and Natalie had a secret place where you would meet each other before school —. That's why you built every ounce of courage and decided to pay her a visit after your classes.
Natalie's house — trailer — wasn't unknown to you but you never actually walked there without her permission. She was always telling you when to show up or not, and it was always at times when she was completely alone. You were obviously aware of the issues she had with her family which is why you never visited her unless she told you to, and you prayed that this visit wouldn't get her in trouble.
You knew she was home alone by the sight of her sitting on the stairs of her trailer, a bunch of light-out cigarets and a pair of empty bottles — most likely of booze — scattered around the pavement. Seeing Natalie like this pained you more than she understood but you knew you needed to be strong for her, that's why you walked closer to her, ready to help her in any way possible.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Natalie, though, didn't seem happy by your presence at all. The slim girl immediately stood up after letting out those slurred words, her voice as rough and deep as always.
You knew she was just drunk and payed no attention to her sharp tone of voice, instead, you took a deep breath and approached her even more. There was an odd tension between the two of you; the air suddenly thickening around you, the sounds of the trailer park muffling as your feet moved towards the girl.
"I asked you a question." She spoke again, looking at you with a mix of confusion and discomfort in her gaze. The way she was staring at you was enough to send shivers down your spine, a look you've never received from Natalie before.
Making her mad was definitely not going to be a good thing, especially not when you were trying to get answers for her startled behavior. "I was worried.." Is all that managed to come out of your mouth, your voice sounding shaky and stuttered. It was obvious that Nat was drunk — you could now smell the alcohol on her breath due to how close she was —, hence is why you understood that she wasn't in her right mind.
The girl in front of you simply scoffed, a cold, raspy noise coming from the back of her throat and slipping past her cut-clad lips. You'd be lying if you said you've never thought about kissing them, about feeling them pressing against every inch of your body. Though right now wasn't the moment to be thinking about that stuff, it was almost as if Natalie could read your mind; her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she stares at you.
"Leave me alone, don't you understand that i don't want you close to me? Or are you so fucking stupid that you can't realize something as simple like that?" She quickly asked again, but you could see the way her bottom lip was slightly trembling while she looks at you.
"What's going on, Nat? Why are you acting like this?" You couldn't help but to ask your friend, shifting even closer to her, your words dripping with serious concern and affection — which was definitely not helping her with her mixed feelings —.
Natalie wanted nothing more but to yell at you, to punch you until you were a bloody mess on the pavement, but she couldn't. There was never a violent — hell, not even a negative — thought about you in her mind. For her, you were perfect; an angel sent from heaven to keep her safe. Despite how fuzzy her head was due to all the alcohol and cigarets she had, you were all she could think about.
That's why she grabbed the collar of your shirt and crashed her lips against yours, so roughly that you swore your lips were going to bruise. It was a quick kiss, though messy and filled with anger, it wasn't enjoyable. You couldn't even kiss her back, your hands hovering over her sides but not fully resting against them. What were you supposed to do? Natalie kissed you like some sort of rabid animal — grunts slipping past her lips — and you could taste the cigarets and licor she previously had.
She pulled away some moments later, allowing her forehead to rest against your own, and everything was quiet for some moments. "Because of you... why can't you fucking see that?" She rasped out, her eyes slowly fluttering open to look at you.
There was an evident hint of lust in the girl's gaze but there was something else; a hint of fear glimmering in her eyes. You knew she wasn't doing well yet you couldn't bring yourself to say anything, you were paralyzed — her taste still lingering in your tongue —.
"I can't do this shit... you know that.." She continued talking before closing her eyes and pushing you away — which caused you to stumble back a bit —, acting as if you were the one who kissed her. She then ran her fingers through her ruffled hair, clearly trying to hold back her emotions.
Despite still being quite in shock, you knew that you needed to say something before she dugs herself further into this messy hole. That's why, after taking a deep breath and really thinking about your words, you speak up; "Y-You're... too drunk. Let me help you, please.." You weakly muttered out, offering her a small, almost shy smile before gently reaching out to grab her hand.
Now, Natalie was definitely not a touchy person. She actually hated to be touched — always flinching whenever someone got too close — but you were different. You were you, and she would always allow you to do whatever you wanted with her — though she wouldn't say it out loud —. So seeing the way she roughly slaps your hand away and then takes a step backwards hurt you more than you thought it could.
"Don't—...." She trailed off, looking at you with parted lips for a moment before lightly shaking her head side-to-side and then turning around. She sat down on the edge of the stairs once again, resting the back of her head against the door of the trailer. "Don't touch me.." She managed to continue her sentence, looking up at you like a kicked puppy.
Her eyes were red and filled with un-shed tears, her body visibly shaking, and you knew that was going on in her head. She needed her person right now — she needed you — and you could tell. Even though she was going to complain, you simply sat down next to her and then let out a sigh. You couldn't look at her, you were confused. Did Nat liked you? Did she wanted to be something more than just friends? Or was it the booze in her system? Millions of thoughts were racing through your mind until the sound of her voice snapped you back into reality.
"My uh... m-my dad's gonna be here any time soon... you should leave.." She warned you, looking over at you through hooded eyes, a hint of concern hidden in her words. Despite everything, she still cared about you.
"I'm not leaving you... especially not when you're like this." You quickly protested before bitting down on your bottom lip. An idea crossed your mind, an idea drunken-Natalie wouldn't enjoy, and you knew it was the right thing to do. Before the dirtyblonde-haired girl could say anything, you spoke again.
"You should come with me, you're in no state to see your—... dad." You then added, your voice cracking with nervous and even hesitation. There was a glimpse of anger noticeable in the girl's eyes for a moment before she looked away from you, her face turning into a wince before she threw up on the pavement.
You immediately grabbed her hair and hold it up for her, using your free hand to slowly rub soothing circles on her back — the fabric of her t-shirt soaked in cold sweat —. Natalie Scatorccio was probably the most stubborn person you've ever met, yet you hoped that she would allow you to help her in this moment.
"Please, just—... make it stop.." She weakly stuttered out, not being able to stop the warm liquid slipping past her lips. Natalie liked the effect of being drunk but she absolutely despised the consequences; puking and then being hangover the next day. The way she was acting like a little kid was only breaking your heart even more.
"C'mon..." You simply indicated before helping her get up, ignoring the putrefying smell of her vomit. You've helped Natalie during moments like this plenty of times yet you never truly realized how messed up it was; how fucked up it was.
The drunk girl was literally shaking, her body seeming much smaller than it ever did, and she was weak. She would never admit it but she was weak; she was so weak that she could barely walk on her own. If it wasn't for you, she'd probably be passed out on the cold floor, waiting for the inevitable to happen.
The next hours were a blur for the two of you; you managed to get her into your car and drove her to your house. Your family were — thankfully — out of town so you had your house to yourself. Natalie was mumbling nonsense under her breath the whole time you helped her into your place, you assisted her with brushing her teeth and even bathed her. In another time, another moment, the pair of you would've joked about this; you probably would've crack a joke or two, but this was different. Nat was barely conscious and she wasn't herself.
After giving her some fresh clothes, you lied her on your bed and she immediately passed out.
It was until midnight where she roused and she couldn't help but to break, tears rolling down the pale skin of her cheeks like a cascade. You obviously woke up yet you didn't say anything, you simply wrapped your arms around her figure and she allowed you to — she was so weak for you —.
With her head on your chest, she eventually calmed down, her lips parting to mumble out some simple words. "I'm so—... so sorry.."
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fallstaticexit · 5 hours
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Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort
AN: Next update will post Monday the 23rd , same time and same place! Going to start working on updating my game etc. <3
Transcript under the cut
Siobhan: There you are! Our guest of honor tucked away in the corner. You’re not hiding, are you?
Nancy: I never really liked crowds.
Siobhan: That won’t do, Nancy. Come. Lets chat.
Siobhan: You know, the way you handled Becca the other night is admirable. I wouldn’t have done anything less if it were my man she was pawing after.
Nancy: Listen, I’m not a violent person. I shouldn’t have hit her.
Siobhan: It hardly matters. It’s about respect.
Siobhan: You have the means to be the most powerful woman in the world. Your family runs a multi million dollar company. Your name is on every recognizable building across the globe. Girls like Becca will dream of the day they can write you a check so she can raise her brood of rowdy children in one of your flawlessly designed properties.
Siobhan: You’re a star, Nancy. It’s time you show everyone what it means to be a Landgraab. You can start by becoming a Theta.
Siobhan: By the way, your mother just arrived!
Nancy: Hello Mother.
Queenie: Nancy.
Nancy: Father couldn’t make it?
Queenie: No, I’m afraid he’s tied up in a prior engagement. Besides, I try not to bore him with my personal affairs. [murmurs] How provocative, these pieces.
Queenie: So you’ve made friends with the daughter of an adulterer. Is that what you thought would impress me? Well, at least she’s proactive. Your lack of involvement in any clubs or organizations shows just how lazy you are. It’s almost as if we’ve sent you to university to piss away our money yet again. When will you prove to me that you’re worth half the trouble you put your father and me through? And for the love of God, stop biting your nails! It’s disgusting.
Professor Munch: -right, Nancy?
Nancy: I’m sorry, what was that?
Professor Munch: This model is absolutely stunning! Marvelous, even.
Nancy: R-really? Thank you, Professor.
Professor Munch: Ah! No wonder! Your drawings are very compelling. The way you blend functionality with aesthetics is brillant! A true prodigy!
Professor Munch: I am very proud of you, Nancy. Keep it up.
Nancy: Hi Professor. I know I’m a little early for office hours, but I really wanted your thoughts on my blueprints.
Professor Munch: Nancy! Are you kidding! Anything for my star pupil. Take a seat.
Professor Munch: If I’m being honest, I don’t have much critique.
Nancy: Staying on top of my grades is really important to me. My GPA is 3.7 but I know I can do more to improve. I can do better-
Professor Munch: [huffs affectionately] Nancy! You are my brightest and best student! I’d say it’s in your blood. I haven’t seen such vision and passion in my student’s work since I taught your brother.
Nancy: Nathan was your student?
Professor Munch: Oh, Nathan was my star! In the short time I spent with him, he has shown me what true artistry looks like. That kid had an eye for detail. He always spoke so fondly of his little baby sister, Nan; he’d call you. [sighs] I miss him dearly.
Professor Munch: I thought of quitting and getting back into the field after he passed. I was devastated when I found out about the accident. My partner pushed me to continue teaching. She knew there was nothing I loved more than handing the tools to brillant kids like you and Nathan to shape our future.
Nancy: Partner? [frowns] Your...partner?
Professor Munch: Monica. We were roommates in college and have been stuck to each other like glue since!
Nancy: So, she’s your best friend?
Professor Munch: Oh certainly. My best friend, my muse, my partner.
Nancy: What about your husband?
Professor Munch: Husband?
Nancy: I- sorry. Nevermind.
Professor Munch: Talk to me, dear. What’s on your mind?
Nancy: I guess I don’t understand. You’re wearing a ring but you have no photos of your husband. You seem...close with her, in the photo.
Professor Munch: I was married once. We have three children together. Sweetest man alive. We’re still friends to this day. We both realized that we had our hearts in different places. In the end, I had my Monica. My soulmate.
Nancy: [sobs quietly]
Professor Munch: Oh, no. Nancy? Dear, are you alright?
Professor Munch: [softly] Oh, sweet darling. You’re hurting, aren’t you? Can I hold you? Is that ok?
Nancy: [nods once]
Professor Munch: You let it all out, you hear me? Just let it all out. I got you.
Nancy Narrates: [I wondered what kind of person I’d be had my mother held me like this]
Professor Munch: There’s a small club that I support that meets every Friday in the commons. I think you should stop by.
Nancy: Thank you Professor but, I think I’ve already decided to join a sorority.
Professor Munch: I’ll tell you what, it’s not something you have to join or commit to, but I think there’s something to gain by coming. Plus, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. You two have a lot in common.
Morgan: Holy shit, hey! It’s Nancy Landgraab! Get over here!
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cherryys · 8 hours
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looking at this panel again made me realize what megumi says here has more implications about him other than his sexuality or preferences. it's about how he views his wants vs. his needs.
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Todo asks him about his type. Usually when someone is asked that, they answer with their preference, what they *want*, or *prefer*, like for example Yuuji's answer of a "tall girls with big butts", despite having a history before of not prioritising that like when he liked yuko.
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But Megumi answers, not of what he prefers or what he finds attractive (whether physically or personality-wise), he just says what he *needs*. He doesn't have a preference as long as the person's character is unshakable. That's it. That's why Todo found his answer boring.
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it's not just because he described a character trait or personality rather than a physical attribute like Todo & Yuuji, but because it was the bare minimum. When you ask someone their type, if they reply "someone with a stable career" you'd find it a bit boring, no? it's not really answering your question of what they want in a partner, what they desire. just what they need. This approach of only looking at what is needed persists through everything Megumi does, not just his type, specifically his career a sorcerer.
He doesn't take more than what he's given, and he forces himself to provide what the situation needs. For example, his sacrifice bunt in the baseball game that Gojo called him out for. He didn't think about what he wanted, but what was needed for the match, and that was to let Nobara advance while he stays behind, so that they overall win the match.
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He limits himself like that. That's why Gojo's words of "It's okay to be selfish!" resonated. Because he never let himself take more. He never let himself step out of line.
This goes for his relationship with Gojo, too. he was a teacher, a mentor for him, but he never let himself step out of line to get any closer to him, as opposed to someone like Yuuji or Yuuta who interact with Gojo freely without any barriers between them. To him, he needs Gojo as a mentor and nothing else, and never let himself entertain the idea of wanting to be closer to him. throughout the conversations and interactions between Megumi and Gojo, there is a sense of distance that not even Gojo has with Yuuta and Yuuji, despite the barriers Gojo put up. Yuuji and Yuuta are both close to Gojo in the sense that they let themselves depend on Gojo and express themselves freely, able to talk about things other than jujutsu. but there isn't anything like that with Megumi. he always speaks to him formally despite 10 years of knowing each other and he's never spoke to him about anything other than jujutsu. to Megumi, Gojo is a teacher and mentor strictly and nothing else. not an adult he could depend on or someone he could confide in.
This goes for Toji, too. To him, he thinks doesn't need his father because he left him, that's why he doesn't care. even if he wanted to grow up with a stable caretaker in his life.
When Gojo first provided him with the two "choices" of training under him or being with the Zenin clan, he didn't think to ask if there was a third option where he just doesn't become a sorcerer. obviously this is because when you're like 6 years old and you're provided with two options, you don't think to entertain a third secret option, especially when you're talking to someone you don't even know, but this mindset of just taking what life gives you without question or defiance is largely why megumi didn't really thrive, especially in such a selfish environment like jujutsu sorcery where you need to overstep to succeed. only when he let go of those limitations (CH. 58) was he able to take selfishly.
His dream in 266 tells you this in full clarity. what he wanted was a simple and domestic life away from jujutsu sorcery. but he knew he didn't have the authority to really demand that from gojo, so he settled for what he needed, which was his sister's happiness.
this attitude of his likely resulted from the fact he grew up having everything taken away from him (his mother, his father, and even his stepmother) along with the fact that he grew up in poverty, so he didn't feel like he had any sort of authority to want things. he saw it as a luxury he wasn't allowed.
(interesting that the only time he has expressed a want, went against life and actually stepped out of line and made a decision out of a selfish need, is when he wanted to save yuuji.)
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roastedoatmilk · 22 hours
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Daisies and Tulips
Kento Nanami x Reader
Summary: The first year trio help Nanami pick out a bouquet of flowers for his partner
Word Count: 1.7k
Tags: fluff to the MAX, itafushi mention, nanami is in love with reader, megumi knows a lot about flowers, the trio being their silly selves
Little Things Masterlist
This is also available on ao3
A/N I hope you guys enjoy this part as much as I enjoyed writing it !! As always reblogs and comments are always very appreciated
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Kento Nanami loved this time of year, the three beautiful months where both of his love’s favorite flowers bloom at the same time. It had been tricky at first trying to figure out a time where he would be able to purchase both of them together but after years of being with you he has nailed it down, so now as soon as it hits March 1st the blond heads to the local flower shop once a week to create a bouquet that never failed to make a smile grace your face. 
On this particular day just as Kento was getting ready to leave the school for the day, a rambunctious trio of first years bounded up to him right as he locked his door. The first grade sorcerer exhaled deeply at the sight of the teens, who hadn’t given him a moment of peace since the night that they had dinner with him and his partner. 
“What can I do for the three of you now?” The man questioned the trio.
The three students quickly looked at each other, having a silent conversation before turning back to the older man. Yuji steps forward seemingly being the one who was elected to speak. 
“Nanamin we were just wondering what sort of things you do for your partner to make their day?” The young boy’s brown eyes beamed up at Kento wide in curiosity. 
Nobara then cleared her throat and added on “Yeah you seem like the type to be a secret hopeless romantic, you both have been together for a while so I’m sure there’s at least one thing that you do for them since they haven’t dumped you yet.” 
Megumi says nothing but just nods along with what the other two are saying. Kento lets out a sigh, the sides of his mouth twitching as he tries not to smile. The fact that the teens are so eager to learn about you and about his relationship with you warms both his heart and your own. 
“Well this time of year I like to go to a flower shop and make a bouquet of their favorite flowers since there is only a short time frame where they both grow at the same time.” The blond man stated, no longer fighting off the urge to smile. 
Nobara and Yuji awed at hearing this while their raven haired counterpart flushes at the mention of said flower shop. Not long ago Megumi had run into the elder man and his partner at the shop looking at flowers. Kento had obviously recognized the boy and greeted him, causing you to greet the green eyed boy as well. Megumi, who had been overcome with embarrassment at interrupting this moment, stuttered out a greeting and introduced himself before turning around and booking it in the opposite direction. Thinking back to that moment causes the young teen to accidentally groan out loud, interrupting the onslaught of questions that the other two first years were asking Nanami.
Yuji’s head jerks in his boyfriend’s direction, concern evident in his eyes. The black haired boy flushed even deeper before waving Yuji off. Kento cleared his throat before stepping away from the trio.
“If that is all I really must be going, the shop closes in a few hours and I need to make it there before then.” The man spoke silently hoping that the answer he gave them would suffice. 
“Why don’t we go with you so that we can help?” Yuji asked his mentor, eyes mimicking that of a puppy. Nobara and Megumi nod in agreement.
Kento once again sighs before nodding his head at the pink haired boy, the trio cheered in response. The four then made their way to the flower shop. It was a relatively short walk, Nobara and Yuji filling the silence with their banter. Once they arrived Kento opened the door and held it for the trio, the bell chiming in the distance. 
“Ahhh welcome back Mr. Nanami, here for a bouquet for your partner?” The man behind the counter greeted the sorcerer, a smile on his face.
“Hello Haruto, yes I’m back for a bouquet, however this time these three are going to help me pick out the colors of the flowers.” Kento says before gesturing to the trio of teens.
The shopkeeper turned to the teens and asked “Well alright then, do any of you know the meanings of different flower colors.” 
Yuji looked at the other two puzzled and muttered “Flowers have meanings?” 
Nobara scoffs and says “Of course they do dumbass, I left my book about it in my dorm so I’m not going to be of much use.” a pout appearing on her face.
Megumi coughs before muttering, “I know a bit about the meanings of different flower colors.” the boy’s face once again a violent shade of red. 
His admittance of this caused Yuji and Nobara to look at him in complete shock, Megumi refused to meet their eyes instead focusing on the flowers in front of him. There was a wide variety of flowers spanning across the entire store, each type getting its own section with a multitude of colors. 
Megumi, still refusing to meet his peer’s eyes, turns to Nanami and asks, “What kind of flowers do they usually like?” His hands rubbing together, a clear sign that the boy is nervous.
“They like daisies and tulips, that’s why this time of year is perfect because it's the only time where they both bloom together.” The brown eyed sorcerer remarked with a small smile on his face. 
Megumi nods firmly before turning to Yuji and Nobara, grabbing their hands and dragging them over to the daisy section first. 
“Okay so for daisies I think we should get blue, they mean long-term commitment, trust, honesty and loyalty.” Megumi shares before continuing, “Then I figured we could go with red which is not only a classic but they also mean passion, romance, and devotion.” 
Yuji and Nobara stare at the green eyed boy in complete shock before grabbing a couple flowers of each color. Neither expected their fellow first year to have this much knowledge about flowers but considering he was raised by Gojo it doesn’t come as too much of a shock to them.
Once they have all of the daisies gathered Megumi makes his way over to where the tulip display is, taking a minute to look at all it has to offer. Yuji and Nobara stand quietly behind him as he observes, the two sharing a silent look of admiration for the boy. 
Megumi clears his throat before turning back around to face his friend and his boyfriend, “After looking over what they have I think we should get pink because they symbolize happiness, and I think we should also get orange because they represent passion and excitement.”
The boy plucks a couple flowers of each color from the display and turns back to his friends, “While its an uncommon combination of colors I think that the light blue of the daisies will look nice with the light pink of the tulips, and the red daisies with the orange tulips will also look nice.” Megumi explains. 
Yuji and Nobara nod in agreement, the teens then make their way over to the counter up front. Nanami is still standing there talking to the shopkeeper about you. 
“Yes, our five year anniversary is coming up soon and I already have the whole day planned out. The ring has been sitting in my pocket for months now but I just haven’t found the right time yet.” Kento whispers to the old man in front of him, as if he's trying to keep the proposal plan a secret.
The three teens gasp as they hear their mentor mention the ring, drawing the man’s attention to them. His eyes wide in shock, he wasn’t expecting them to hear about that. 
“Nanamin you’re going to propose to them??” Yuji asks, tears slightly welling up in his brown eyes at the idea of the man he admired so much taking such a big step in his life. 
“Come on, show us the ring I wanna see.” Nobara says moving her hand in a give me motion.
“I want to see it too.” Megumi utters his eyes darting in the opposite direction.
Kento sighs, taking off his goggles and pinching right between his eyes before reaching into his pocket and removing the velvet box that has been there for months. 
“Yes Itadori I will be proposing to them soon, now that everything has settled down and things aren’t as hectic.” Kento informed the trio before opening the velvet box to reveal a gorgeous ring. It was a silver band with leaf detailing all around it with a single pearl placed in the middle surrounded by even more leaf detailing. The three teens looked at the ring in awe knowing that you were going to love it. 
“Wow you sure know how to pick em Nanami.” Nobara admitted, her eyes transfixed on the ring.
“Yeah Nanamin they’re going to love it.” Yuji chimed in with even more tears in his eyes. 
“It’s beautiful, they'll love it.” Megumi agrees. 
Kento chuckles before closing the box and putting it back in his pocket, “Thank you, now let’s see what flowers the three of you picked out for them.” The blond man responded with a faint flush on his freckled face. 
The trio straighten up before showing their mentor the flowers they picked out. Nanami smiles before taking the flowers from each teen’s hand arranging them all together. 
“Wonderful work you three, I am sure they’ll be very happy with these.” Kento smiles at the kids. 
Kento hands the flowers to the shopkeeper so that they can be wrapped together and paid for. The shopkeeper smiles as he rings them up, having known you personally due to your former apprenticeship at the flower shop. 
“Have a great rest of your evening, they’re going to love them Kento.” The shopkeeper says before bidding them farewell.
Kento ushers the trio out of the shop and they make their way back to the school, the blond man making sure each teen makes it safely back to their dorms. Later that evening all three of the teens receive a text message from the man including a photo of you holding the bouquet with a wide grin and tears streaming down your face. Below the photo was a message that said “Thank you again for helping pick these out, they love them.”
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A/N this is the ring
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hughiecampbelle · 1 day
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Unornamented (Hughie Campbell Oneshot)
Character/s: Hughie
Word Count: 1,691
Requested: Not requested, but here are the prompts I used :) 13.) Hum, 36.) Scraped Knees 34.) “Still awake?”
Inspired By: Foxglove by Haley Heynderickx
A/N: I love him, I love him, I love him!!!! Anyways, just an appreciation fic for your patience!!! Thank you my loves!! I actually kinda love how this turned out. I think it's very soft and sweet, even a little sad. Heavily inspired by the song/album. Slowly working through my writers block so that once I start posting again, my work will be what you deserve!!! Feedback is always appreciated!! 💜💜💜
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The cicada's sharp pitch moves with the wind, seeping through the open window screens. You never knew what that peculiar sound was, the screaming, bleating, wailing, only that it swept through you each night on your long, humid walks home. A kind of begging. A performance. A tongue you have not yet mastered. Shakespearean tragedies, you imagine, wars between families, between forbidden lovers and bitter marriages. Feuds. They step out into costumes covered in ruffles, pearls, thick collars and high stockings. The children dress as fauna and flora, roaring like cubs, nipping at one another playfully. On stage, they are someone else. Largely unseen as the sun sets, they intend to make their presence known. The rest of them, the crowds for miles and miles, sing their songs in appreciation. A hum that vibrates through the leaves, the open air, their roaring praise and applause settles goosebumps across your flesh. They’ve grown accustomed to sweet summer shows and they will be forever grateful. Harmless, they went about their time as you wished to do. No biting, nor stinging. Without violence. They draw out these shows, afraid they will be left alone to bear their lives, their thoughts, mundane and overpowering respectively. 
Beneath you, the springs of the mattress puncture the thin fabric, poking at the spokes of your spine the way a mother would her child. It tickles, her bony knuckles, the sharpness of the spring. Interchangeable. A comfort you have forgotten of, one that fills the cavity of your chest with dread. What else have you forgotten? What else have you given up for a life like this? The sheer curtains blow with the breeze. Thoughtlessly, they move and dance and grab at one another, like sisters. They must be laughing, you think, for they are warm underneath the butter yellow street lights and safe and together. They must be laughing, because they are together and that is who they’ll only ever need: their twin. Leaves rustle underneath the insect melodies. A bass, low and of the earth, the tone of an old man telling stories of his youth. You can hear him smiling. 
The sheets are soft, newly washed, and sticking to you. Wrapped around your torso, your legs free to breathe, kissed by the thick air. Lying like this, with your knees tented, you can see the scrapes across them. Earth scorched. What was once torn open, alive and mouthy, had healed only slightly. The skin is pale and thick and chewy. Shiny. They don’t hurt as much as they did. You’re not sure how it happened, only that it must’ve been recent. There are other aches and pains. Healed and unhealed, bruised and not. Old wounds stitched together. Deep purples, cobalt blues, sickly greens. They’ll yellow soon enough. You were always getting hurt. You were always in some sort of danger. Unwise, you knew, and yet there was something about the thrill. The taste of blood in your mouth. Last time – the last time – you’d almost been sliced in half. Not yet a scar, the settled skin inching its way across your belly remained snakelike. Sensitive, you were careful to wash and dry, to dress and dress again. Your fingertips brush where it rests beneath your shirt. You don’t like looking at it. It remains too much of a reminder. On that day. Of what you were attempting to leave behind. Too soon to joke, to laugh, the both of you still a little rattled. 
It’s how you ended up here. 
There is a body beside you. Not unfamiliar. His skin is warm, and though forgiveness was never one of summer's virtues, you find yourself curling into him, all his nooks and crannies, despite the humidity in the air. His chest rises and falls evenly. His lip is split and there is a scab at his temple. How many times have you kissed that very spot? How many times had you checked on it, to make sure it was healing properly. Free of infection. His shirt is worn and thin and it smells of him: soap and sky and the dinner he burned earlier. One arm rests beneath you, your head, the other thrown behind the pillow, perching it up further. His rest is not easy, not without effort, but there is a certain softness to his features. Maybe it’s the light, the setting sun, the deep, bright blue of the night sky. Maybe not. Either way your eyes follow the slope of his nose, the curve of his cheek, the furrow of his brow. His hair is wild, some of it slicked back. It is his best effort not to overheat. His dreams are still water, not yet broken by growing, gruesome waves. Not yet entering the heart of the storm. It will, of course. And when it does, he will startle awake. Panting. Gasping for air. Clinging to you. 
For now, though, he is quiet. 
The bedroom is cozy. Cozy, you think, is a nice way of saying it’s small. No matter. You had little with you anyways. A lamp. A mattress. You have yet to get a frame, a bedside table. Frivolities. A single dresser you split down the middle, neck to groin. Autopsy-esque. Photos of friends. Notes and doodles. Passports, fake IDs. Enough clothes to get you through the season. You know, when the snow threatens to fall and the cicadas are long gone, you will need more than what you’ve got. The drawers stick and, embarrassed, as quiet as he can, he’ll shake it open. He has done this since you got here. Untethered himself from you, from the bed, gentle enough not to startle you. He’ll dress, and kiss your head, and leave a note: Be back soon. XO Hughie. He’ll disappear in the early morning. Wandering, you suppose. It is the only way he can breathe easily, if he knows where you are. If he understands the layout of the land. You weren’t in the city anymore. The crowds you’d slipped into, becoming just another strange face, were no longer an option here. The hiding places were minimal. Open roads, nothing for miles. The underbelly you could run to for safety, the trains you could crouch into, your hoods up, your faces low, were unavailable. Nonexistent. You’d traded one anonymity for another. You’d pretend to be asleep, watching him, wide eyed, as the morning sun enveloped him. The rays are subtle, not yet full, and they stretch out towards him. Sometimes you’ll fall back to sleep. Sometimes you’ll lie there, soaking in every inch of the room, wondering what became of everyone you’d ever cared about. Wondering if you could make a life like this. When he comes back, he will make you coffee. The only two mugs you brought with you. Chipped and worn. He’ll place his on the dresser, careful with yours, as if it were something precious. He doesn’t voice what he’s seen, what he’s taken into account, but his features are quick to give him away. You will reassure him: he could never find you here. You are both safe. Everyone is safe. The words are hollow, You know this. As long as Homelander is alive, you are in danger. There is only so much of you you can give to him anymore. There is only so much of your mind, your body, your fears, that you can dole out to him. Hughie nods, the steam from his cup bringing color to his face. You will find something else to talk about. The strangers you met on your long walks. The pets you wave to through fences, through windows. The long summer you’ve been granted. How lucky you’ll be when the weather chills and the leaves begin to turn. Anything but Vought. Anything but him. 
That isn’t for many hours, of course.
Your thoughts spread like fog through the apartment. The kitchen (tiny) and the bathroom (even littler). Enough utensils for two. A spongy bath mat. Anything that would fit in the backseat, really. Silly things you grabbed without thinking. The kitschy salt and pepper shakers. A dozen mismatched socks. Only the case of Hughie’s mouth guard. Half a set of slippers. A handful of books. The rest? You would never be sure what happened to them, to anything. You had what the old tenants left behind. The dresser, the lamp, a table for four with three chairs, a shower curtain. There are other things here as well. Spiders in the corners, weaving their webs. Occasionally, you might find one on the bar of soap by the sink, crawling across the counter tops, making its way through the length of the apartment. A mouse or two. If you’re quiet enough, you might hear them scurrying in the walls. Worse, you suspect, though that’s as far as you can name definitively. The first thing he did was get you a mattress. Paid in cash under another name, beaming with pride, he pushed it up the stairs and through each doorway. It was perfect.  The cicadas sing their songs, harmonizing with one another. The sky has darkened. There are so many stars here. That was the first thing you noticed. Driving for days on end, you watched the inky black glitter, thousands and thousands of holes opening up, letting the twinkling light through. It wasn’t like this in the city. It had never been this clear. Perhaps it was the running, the escaping, the tiresome ways you’d been living since you left. Perhaps it was the first beautiful thing you’d been allowed to take in in a long time. There were wildflowers and small towns and houses built long before you, but the time to look in awe, to appreciate, had been so fleeting. Mere moments, that’s all you were allowed. This would go on forever. The scars embedded in your skin ache just a little. You readjust, placing your head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. Hughie, coming to, wraps his arm around you, pulling you even closer. “Still awake?” He asks in his sleepy voice, and you know he is smiling.
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heathermason6060 · 2 days
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Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch. 6
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(Hes sitting next to you in this pic :D)
Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst, SMUT Summary: You search for Daryl after Negan's lineup. You didn't understand the trauma he went through, and eventually you decide enough is enough, and you leave. Notes: The last chapter! Somewhat proofread. Filled with tensions overflowing and then some sex. I had a lot of fun writing this and want to thank @louifaith again for allowing me to write out her idea. It's also pretty long because I didn't want to break it into two chapters, it didn't really make sense that way. Longish read, but longish smut at the end if you're just here for sex and want to skip ahead.
When you found out he left on some halfcocked revenge mission, you were pissed. And then you learned nearly everyone else had gone too, you were pissed and confused. 
The rare presence of the others had become more common than the familiar presence of Daryl. He was gone more often than not now, either out with Aaron or off with Rick. Even when he was home, he was never really there. He didn't laugh at your crude insults about others anymore, he didn't want to spend all day with you out hunting in the woods. It looked like was also making an effort to smoke less, often declining your outstretched cigarette. He was the one who got you to smoke once. You used to hate it, but eventually associated the smell of tobacco with him, and you grew to love it.
You couldn't read him like a book like you once did. He'd become overly serious, distant, and uncharacteristically concerned with the well-being of others. 
You had half a mind to just leave. The only reason you hadn't left months ago was Daryl, but the way he was treating you felt like a slap in the face. It hurt. For the first time in so long you hurt. You felt utterly and completely alone, leading you to once again close yourself off from the others, spending all your time hunting or scavenging for substances in the city that could make you feel better. You scored an unopened bottle of painkillers, something you once hated, and drowned your sorrows with a stuffed nose and a foul post nasal drip. 
The savior issue never really seemed like a big deal to you when it first arose. Some asshole raiders trying to make a point, you didn't give a shit. Rick and Daryl would handle it like they always did. 
You took a deep drag from your cigarette as you watched the front gates being opened, two heavy duffle bags over each of your shoulders. You’d come to terms with it, you were leaving, and that was it. You weren't some obedient housewife that didn’t mind the absence of Daryl, you were his best friend and you couldn’t put up with the dramatic emotions anymore. You were fully prepared for the conversations that would ensue, a list of reasons you should stay, maybe some light pleading, so when you saw what came from those gates you froze. 
The muscles in your jaw throbbed as you listened to Rick's pitiful attempt at retelling you what happened, his eyes red and puffy, his hair wet and matted to his forehead. He couldn't, so he gave up, and drug his feet into the house, moving in a way that closely resembled the dead. Carl followed, and you realized Maggie was missing too. Your heart dropped. 
“What the fuck is wrong with him? What happened?” You gaped, looking from face to face, searching desperately for an answer, only to be met with the ghosts of their former selves. You spotted Aaron and realized he was almost never out without Daryl, and your confusion snapped violently to panic. Michonne was really the only one who wasn't too shocked to speak. She told you everything in great detail, her words cold and harsh as she made her anger towards your insensitive behavior well known. Each word she spoke felt like a curse, spitting at you with such venom you'd never had directed towards you before. You deserved it. 
You weren't a good person like them. The deaths of Glenn and Abraham didn't make you cry, go through all the stages of grief and have a mental crisis, in the moment she told you they just felt like problems you’d deal with later, you didn’t have the time. Not when you still had no idea where Daryl was. 
Despite not being a good person, you reacted to the news in a way that was very impressive by your standards. You didn't scream at anyone, or punch Gabriel in the face, you just threw your already packed bags in the car and set off. 
You chain-smoked an entire pack of cigarettes the first hour of searching. You never did find the saviors home, even though you didn't stop searching to sleep the first few days. You found the location of the massacre, a few shredded pieces of clothing and blood stained dirt. You were brought to furious tears at the thought of the scenario where you were in Daryl's position, and him yours. Your first assumption was that he would've already tracked you down by then, him and his one man army breaking you out and taking you far away from the entire state. Then the second, and more daunting assumption, would he even look? Would he be too busy taking care of Rick and the others, the task of rescuing you put on a back burner? 
You told yourself maybe you were just impulsive and stupid, maybe Daryl in that scenario was just being smart and careful, you were just a guns blazing idiot who didn't think far into the future. 
It felt like you'd been out there for weeks, living off a diet of cigarettes and various illegal substances. You nearly stuck a knife in the face of  a woman who was unlucky enough to walk into the same store you were in. 
“No, please, don't.” She sniveled pathetically, her hands raised to the sides of her head in surrender. “I don't have anything. Please. I can take you to my camp, we've got food and water and medicine-”
“Dude, shut up. Just thought you were a walker. Goddamn.” You sheathed your knife and stood back, the tip of your tongue held between your teeth in thought. “But I'm hungry as fuck!”
She took you back to her camp, which was extremely impressive. And just in time, too, your stomach growled noisily and you felt the small waves of hunger nausea begin. 
“Put your gun away, please.” She pleaded in a hush whisper as you stood in front of the wooden gates. 
You looked to her with furrowed eyebrows, your cheeks hollowed out as you pulled on your twentieth cigarette that day. You really needed to cut back. “No.” You muttered around the cigarette, eventually sighing and slinging your rifle over your shoulder with a dramatic eye roll. 
The sight of Rick and Maggie chatting outside with a small group of others felt like you'd been slapped in the face. They looked just as stunned as you were, pausing their conversation. You stood there for about ten solid seconds before the silence finally broke. 
Rick opened his mouth to speak but you raised your hand, stopping him. “Don't have time. Just gonna eat and leave.” 
“Daryl's here.” The sound of Maggie's harsh voice halted your route to the front of the mansion. You couldn't hide the look on your face, an intense ‘this better not be a lie’ mix of anger and disbelief. She pointed up to your previous destination with raised eyebrows and you took off. 
He almost punched you in the face when you jumped him. He was still wet from a shower, littered in various sized bandages and bruises, wearing a fresh set of clothes. He smelled like laundry detergent and cheap flowery shampoos. 
“Holy shit I thought they killed you. Holy shit. Mother fucker.” You babbled into his chest as he squeezed you so hard your back cracked. 
It felt indescribable being in his arms again. It also felt incredibly different. You'd hugged him hundreds of times but something about this particular hug stood out. It was desperate and deep, you didn’t worry about coming off as soft or being too much. Your fingers dug into the sleeves of his shirt around his biceps, your face buried into his chest, and his hands were all over you. He couldn't decide where to touch you, your arms, your face, your hair, your back, they would move from place to place as he cemented into his mind that you were really there, there in his arms, holding and petting him like you'd always done before. His mind flashed with images of him back in that cell and his throat tightened, the slightest whisper of a whimper sounding in the back of his mouth. He held you tighter and kissed the top of your head, rocking you in his arms for a few silent moments as you pulled yourself together. 
“Where the hell you been? Rick said ya left with all your shit.” His voice was tight, the way it would get when he would try not to cry, along with raising in pitch a little. 
You looked up and smiled softly, seeing him through a sheen of wet tears. “Doesn't matter.” You hummed as you stroked his cheek. “Really. It doesn’t. I've been looking for you, only reason I'm here is because some bitch thought I was robbing her and told me about this place. Couldn't keep looking if I was starving.” You buried your face back in the fabric of his shirt and sighed deeply. 
“Told ya, I ain't leavin'. I ain't dyin’ neither.” His warm words in that deep rumble resulted in your racing heart finally slowing its pace. 
“What happened? Are you okay?” You pulled back from his chest to look up at his face. He looked miserable, it broke your heart. He looked away from your gaze, unable to keep eye contact, which was something he never struggled with before when it came to you. “Daryl?”
His head immediately dropped and his forehead collided with your shoulder. Your heart banged against your ribcage and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, stroking the back of his neck and kissing the side of his head while he stifled his soft sobs.
“Let's leave. C'mon.” You parted from him, only to be pulled back by his grip on your wrist. 
“Y’jus’ got here.” Daryl furrowed his brows, his eyes wet with tears that he quickly blinked away.
“Yeah, to eat so I could keep looking for you. I've found you, so let's go.”
“Go where?” 
You gritted your teeth as his grip on you loosened. “Anywhere else, I don't care.” You said through clenched teeth, your gaze intensifying. “We're done with this shit. Not our problem anymore. Let's go. I'm not letting these people get you hurt again. Never, Daryl.”
Daryl had never been the reason you cried, at least, that's what he thought. So when you started cracking at his rejection, his heart shattered. Every bone in his body yearned for him to hold you, bring you back into his arms and make the pain stop. It hurt even more to see that you weren't just upset, you were pissed, disgusted at the fact that you were showing such weakness in front of the same person who made you cry. 
“I gotta. ‘Jus need to do this.” He attempted to comfort you after your rage at your perceived betrayal faded into tears of defeat. “M’doin’ it for us. Ya gotta trust me on this.” 
There was a small glimmer of hope then, and you allowed yourself to feel it. You were desperate to believe him, and desperate to believe everything would turn out alright. Rick and everyone else would deal with Negan, you'd scratch that burning itch for revenge, and everything would be okay. 
Rick did deal with it, that much came true. At the cost of his son's life, he defeated the saviors.
You were more than willing to fight. You’d been dying for a purpose, and being a soldier in the war against Negan was exactly what you needed. You looked like a cheesy action movie protagonist with two long arm guns on your back and two pistols in each hand. You used more ammo that day than you had in your entire life. God. You wished Merle had been there to see you and Daryl. 
You didn't get the revenge you so desperately craved. You absolutely lost it when Negan was defeated. After Daryl decided against killing Dwight, you lunged at the man like a rabid fox, fully prepared to end his life with just your teeth and hands, only to end up clawing and wriggling in Daryl's grasp. You could've gotten over that eventually, it would take a really long time, sure, Dwight was a brainwashed cult member and did what he did because he was told to. And he'd get his, even if you had to restrain yourself. Fine. It’s fine.
But Rick sparing Negan? 
No. Your reaction to that earned you the reputation of the group's feral animal. You shared the same reaction as Maggie, but unlike her giving up after a while of being held back, you ended up earning a matching set of rope bracelets and anklets.
“You'll have to kill me.” Your throat burned as Daryl tossed you in the back of a blue Toyota camry. He nearly had to force Dwight into the passenger seat at gunpoint, the terror in the backseat scaring him more than the thought of death. 
Your spit was red and thick as it smacked onto Dwight's battered face, blending with the blood that made him unrecognizable. He was barely able to get to his feet after Daryl's threat of death if he was to return, blindly picking up the car keys in the mess of blood spattered leaves. 
The relationship between you and Maggie quickly became a deep friendship as you plotted to kill Negan. Neither of you were allowed to see him in his cell without someone to stand guard, but Maggie even moreso. With enough time you were able to get down there alone, gun in hand, only to be stopped by Michonne, who had apparently come for the same reason. 
“I haven't seen you much before. What's your name.” Negan's eyes followed you as you paced back and forth in front of his cell, seething from the fact that Michonne wouldn't let you kill him yet. She had her own unknown motives, which didn't really matter to you, but all this talking was driving you insane. 
“You don't need to know my name.” You muttered, cutting your eyes at the man. “You look so much smaller than I remembered you looking in that field.”
He winced at your words, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Oh, sweetheart. That hurts. Actually, I've been told I'm pretty impressive.”
He watched you as you continued pacing, your hands sweaty and your eyes wild with rage, confusion, and confliction. A smirk spread on his face. “Look at you. Like a lion in a cage. Well, I’m the one in the cage, but. Coulda used a psycho bitch like you. If you were on my side that day, phew!”
You pulled your gun from your waistband and pulled the trigger. Negan raised hands and jumped. Your heart dropped when you were met with an empty click. You inhaled sharply through your nose and pulled out the clip, which was completely empty. 
Daryl. He dragged you out of the basement, thankful he’d unloaded your guns the night before. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what you were planning. He didn't care that you were pissed, Rick wanted Negan alive, so that's what he was going to stay, even if he did want the prick dead.
It didn't take long for you to pick up on Daryl's trauma. He was good at hiding it from others, nothing much had changed aside from him being quieter. But once your selfish rage had settled you noticed small differences. He slept closer to you at night, no longer on the other side of the mattress, and his nightmares became more violent. He'd thrash in his sleep, tossing and turning and sweating, you found yourself waking him up more times than you could count. Each time he'd get real quiet, maybe from shame, and walk outside to smoke a cigarette. You'd follow him each time and sit quietly on the porch steps, not caring that he didn't offer you a hit. He looked like he needed all he could get. 
You saw him crying with Carol once. His head dipped down and his forehead pressed against her shoulder. If it had been long ago you would've felt hot at the sight, assuming he obviously must've felt closer to her since he hadn't cried like that with you since his capture, but you weren't as shallow and selfish as you once were. Your heart ached for him, wishing he would open up and tell you what happened, you could comfort him too, you wished you could tell him that. 
“Wanna go hunting?” You asked one day, picking up your new hunting rifle, a Savage model 99 that you'd replaced your broken bow with. Daryl shrugged from his spot on the chair beside your bedroom table, not looking up from his work. He was almost always making new bolts in his free time then. He had a pile of twenty-two sitting next to him. 
“Come on, I'm craving venison.” 
He inhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging. 
“Seriously, we haven't hung out in forever man.”
“Hang out?” He said it like you asked him for a ‘playdate’. “What're ya, twelve?”
“No, I'm an adult who misses you, jackass.” You muttered, kicking one of his boots across the floor closer to him. “You've made two hundred arrows in the past week man. I think you can take a break. Yeah, don't look at me like that. I've counted.”
It was when you were alone in the woods that he broke down. You hadn't even asked, he just told you after you took down a buck. He didn't cry at first, he gave a vague retelling, it was only when he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders from behind that he cried. His head hung low as his chest shook with quiet sobs, his hands laying idle and nervous in his lap, his eyes looking down at the stump he sat on. You rested your head in the crook of his neck and held him for a while, your fingers occasionally giving his biceps a reassuring squeeze if his breathing grew too ragged. 
“I'll kill him. I promise. I'll find a way.”
When you were fifteen you skipped school for the first time. Your freshman year, Daryl's too. It was one of the only times you hung out that wasn't just the right time, right place. He was the one who talked you into it, since the two of you shared a history class. He brought cigarettes and a wild assortment of drugs, no doubt nabbed from Merle. 
“We should do this more.” Daryl had said as you walked the power line trails in the woods behind the school. He shrugged when you looked at him, his gaze falling to the grass in front of him. “Hang out, I mean.” 
“Yeah, we should.” You flashed a rare smile, earning one from him as well, the purple skin around his eye wrinkling. 
You never did. You were too busy with school work and getting beat on by your withdrawing mother. Daryl wasn't really busy, in fact, he was alone most of his teenage years. Always alone out in the woods. Sometimes he'd miss school for a week, living in his father's tent deep in the forest, spending his time learning to live on his own. His father never noticed, not until the school called and he got one of the worst beatings he'd ever gotten. You saw him at school a few days after that, one of his last days before he dropped out. 
He looked awful. Busted lips, bruises all over his arms, light purple handprints on his neck, and deep purple blotches around his eyes and jaw. The school called the police, but nothing ever happened. Daryl told them it was from a fight with some kid, and they happily accepted that answer, eager to miss out on the paperwork. 
“We should just leave.” You said after he pulled the cigarette back away from your lips to take a drag of his own. 
“I would.” He muttered as he held the smoke in his lungs, watching the kids in the far off soccer field chasing the ball. His legs dangled off the edge of the school roof, occasionally swinging a bit. 
“I would too.” You wouldn't. Not until you got your brother back. You looked at him, feeling an unfamiliar twist in your heart when you saw the way he flinched under your sudden gaze. “I'd kill him if I could.” 
You truly meant it. Even though Daryl was barely an acquaintance at that point, you would have killed his father if you got the chance. Daryl didn't mean much to you to be brutally honest, you didn't care to form a deep friendship with anyone, but you shared the bond of trauma from parental abuse and that was deeper than any normal friendship. He could leave, never see you again, and you wouldn't be upset, but if you ever had to witness his father touch him it would shatter your soul. 
You promised yourself you'd kill anyone who ever hurt him after that. You almost murdered Andrea when you found out she shot him. You risked being eaten alive by walkers just to make sure the Governor was really dead. You beat Dwight until Daryl dragged you off, if he hadn't done that you would've killed him. 
Things got a lot worse after the day of your failed assassination attempt. Daryl was never home anymore, either at Hilltop or Ezekiel's kingdom. You had reached the point of considering leaving again. The emotional rollercoaster you were going through was taking a heavy toll on your already fucked mental health.
He could see the effect his absence had on you, and it made him feel like shit. There wasn’t much he could do, he had so many responsibilities and he would never ask you to come with him and Rick every time they packed up and went on long trips every five seconds. It felt selfish to him, he didn’t know that you’d be more than happy to accompany him. 
His hands on your tense shoulders as you sat on the edge of your bed did wonders to loosen you up. You set your gun down beside you and looked up to him, forcing a smile. 
“C'mon sweetheart. Wanna show you somethin’.”
He took you on a long walk in the woods to a secluded pond that once belonged to a fisherman, obvious by the raggedy dock and small wooden shack filled with all sorts of fishing tools. There was still homemade canned fish in his cupboards. 
“Gonna stay here for a few days. Jus’ you an’ me.” 
You watched him over your can of trout, chewing slowly. “Really?”
Daryl shrugged and stabbed his fork into his own can. “Yeah. Ya need it.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “We need it.”
Your heart swelled with warm joy, a smile spread on your face and you tried your best to contain the satisfaction his gift had given you. You missed your best friend more than anyone you’d ever missed before after your baby brother. You’d come to terms with the more than likely possibility that he was dead, and so were your parents. It took a long time and many different weeks spent searching when you were back in Georgia. 
You had a fantastic time with him. You fished all morning, talked all afternoon, and ate your fill of fresh and canned fish. It wasn't long before you set up your bedrolls in the middle of the shack and blew out your candles. It felt amazing to sleep next to him again, you couldn't properly put into words how much you missed him. The feeling of his large warm body next to yours as you fell asleep had you thinking that it was all worth it. He was making an effort to spend time with you again, and with that effort came the sparks of hope, hope that you were getting your best friend back.
You woke up the first night spent with him in the fishing shack to see moonlight seeping through the holes in the tin roof. You rubbed your blurry eyes and sat up, propping yourself up with an elbow on the floor. 
“Daryl?” You murmured sleepily as your eyes came to focus in the dim light. His bedroll was still beside yours, albeit empty. You waited a few minutes before walking outside, assuming he just had to go piss or something. 
Ten minutes passed before you walked back into the shack, now carrying a small candle to light the room, cursing when the wax dripped down your knuckles. The amber glow illuminated his bedroll, bringing attention to a small white square. You leaned down and picked up the piece of paper, squinting in effort to read his handwriting. 
The pain in your chest was deep and dark. Growing up you had grown used to being disappointed by your parents and people around you. It never surprised you. Even now you didn’t expect much from people, but Daryl was that exception. So when you read his little apology, claiming Rick called on him through his walkie to request his help in the Kingdom, you decided you’d had enough.
He had been in the Kingdom for about two weeks until you heard from Rick that they were back.
“We're leaving.” You seethed the moment you stepped into your new shared bedroom with Daryl. It was upstairs in one of the apartments in Alexandria, no longer the basement in Rick's house. You had a nice king sized bed, lots of dressers and shelves, a big ass tv, and even a gaming console that once belonged to Carl. Daryl had only slept in that bed three times since you moved in months ago.
He sighed your name and stood from his seat at the table, setting down the disassembled gun he'd been cleaning. “No we ain't. Cut that shit out.” 
“I can't be here anymore. I can't. I can't.” You began hyperventilating as you ripped the dresser drawer fully out, falling to your knees and quickly grabbing the clothes that spilled out. 
“Stop.” When you didn't comply he made you stop, grabbing your wrists and forcing you to look at him. He spoke in that serious tone that felt like a stab to the chest, his eyes burning holes into yours. “I'm not leavin'.” 
You froze at his words. Your mouth opened and your lips trembled, your breath catching in your throat. The words never came to you. You just stared at him with wide eyes and a horrified look of disbelief.
Daryl didn't speak either. He stood his ground, maintaining a firm gaze, his grip on your wrists slowly loosening. 
It hurt. And that made you angry. 
“Who even are you anymore?” You hissed, tearing your hands away from him and shooting up on your feet. “I never see you anymore, you're cold, distant.” He got to his feet, accepting each blow of your words with this calm face that turned your anger into lividness. 
“You promised me you'd never leave me. You promised you'd always be the one thing Daryl, the one thing that wouldn't change, wouldn't leave, wouldn't hurt me, I kept my promise!” Your finger hammered against your own chest in reference. “You say you're never leaving but you already left! I can see it in your eyes, don't look at me like you have no idea what I'm talking about.” Your face burned. “I can see it. The pity, the disdain. The only reason you haven't just kicked me out is cause you feel like you're obligated to me now, or maybe you're scared I'm some loose canon and I'll burn this fucking house down-”
Daryl had heard enough, he lurched forward until he was inches away from you, his nostrils flared due to his increasingly heavy breathing. “You're fuckin’ delusional!” He spat. “You don't think this is hard on me too? Don't think I'd rather be out there livin’ in some cabin with you? That shit ain't happenin’, these people are family. I ain't leavin' ‘em neither. Shit don't mean I don't care ‘bout ya anymore. We ain't in Atlanta, ‘ts not like that anymore. Ain't just me you ‘n Merle.”
“We should've just left. We should've just left.” You repeated in a breathy whisper, your glazed over eyes locked on his chest. 
“Yeah? Well, we didn't, now we can't. Now I won't.” The purposeful enunciation of the last word was the straw that broke the camel's back, and he immediately regretted it as soon as your eyes squeezed shut. “G’damnit.” 
“Fine.” Your breath was shaky, and you resumed packing. 
He found it impossible to stop you, impossible to move. In reality all it would take from him was a simple request for you to stay, but he couldn't even manage that. It felt like watching a fire you started get out of control, he knew he still had the power to stop it, but he was too stunned to move. 
You zipped up the same second duffle bag you'd packed with the same intention on leaving, just as you'd done before. This time though, it wasn't the same. It felt too final. You knew it would be the last time. Daryl did too, and he still didn’t stop you.
You’d set up camp deep in the woods down a dirt road that led to a pond. You slept in your car with your campfire a few feet away, a pot of wild carrots and rabbit simmering over the coals. It smelt amazing due to your stolen beef bouillon cubes, but you didn’t really have the motivation to eat. You flicked away the first cigarette of your last pack and stared into the red hot coals, watching them ebb and glow until the flash of something large and dark caught your eye. 
You stared in disbelief as you watched his figure move through the thick trees, making his way over to your little camp beside the car you'd stolen from Alexandria. He had a heavy bag with him. 
He plopped his bag down next to your fire and sat down, helping himself to a bowl of your stew. He said nothing, not even looking up at you as he finished your supper.
“The hell are you doing here?” 
He looked up at you and sucked the grease from his fingertips, the empty bowl now discarded at his side. You had no idea how he’d managed to get his fingers coated in rabbit fat, it was fucking soup and he used a spoon. “Ts’it look like?”
You couldn't move, your feet glued to the debris of the forest floor. Your mind spun with questions. If he was actually willing to leave with you, leave all those people behind, why had he shut you out? Why had he changed? What changed? 
“I don't want you here. It's an obvious act of charity.” You finally spoke, watching as he lit a wrinkled cigarette. “You told me yourself-”
“Will ya shut up?” He squinted up at you through the burn of smoke. “Jus’ walked six  damn days to find ya. M’not leavin'.” 
You sat on the opposite side of the fire in silence. He scooted around to sit next to you, and held his cigarette up to your lips. You took a weak pull and sighed. After a while of not speaking, you broke the silence. 
“You're so different. Changed so much”
He nodded at your words, his head tilted down to stare at the leaves between his legs. “Had to.”
“Why?” The question burst from your lips so quickly that it surprised you. 
“You.” He took a deep pull off his cigarette and blew it out the opposite side of his mouth to avoid blowing it directly in your face. “This ain't the kind of life you deserve. Tryin’ to get that for ya. That little house ya dreamed of living in, one with a screened in porch for plants ‘n shit. Life that ya ain't spendin’ hungry, cold, scared.”
He paused for a moment, taking another long drag. “Wanted me to be better too. The kinda man to pick ya flowers, take ya on dates, all that stupid shit.” He flicked the spent cigarette into the fire and leaned back against your car door. 
If it was possible, you were feeling every emotion all at once, in such a rapid and disorienting fashion that it looped back around and made you too shocked to feel. 
He delved deeper, explaining that he felt you deserved better than who he once was, Merle’s echo, a loud and angry asshole, then turned into a cold and traumatized shell, never allowing himself to feel vulnerable with you again. When he finally broke out of it and realized exactly what he wanted, he worked on himself in a determined attempt to be the man you dreamed of marrying as a kid.He worked on your surroundings as well, making sure to eliminate any possible threat in every colony that had even the slightest chance of risking your livelihood. But more importantly, he wanted to be yours. The type of husband you described when you were thirteen years old, cleaning the blood from his swollen ear one of the nights he slept on your back porch. 
“I'm not gonna be like my mom.” You had said firmly, tossing away the bloody tissue paper. “I'm gonna get a good husband and I'm not gonna mess it all up like she did.”
“A good husband?” He questioned curiously, wincing as you dabbed his ear with rubbing alcohol. 
“Yeah, like…. He'll take me on dates, open doors for me, buy me cool stuff, uh….” You trailed off in thought. “He's gonna build me a house too. With a screen porch that I can put a hundred plants in, and he won't be allowed to smoke in it. Oh, he won't smoke, actually. Or drink, or do drugs. He'll never hit me or yell at me like my mom did to my dad, and to me. He'll be handsome too. And smart.”
You were brought to the present with a jolt as Daryl’s hand touched your knee, making you jump. You didn't notice your eyes had started watering and you quickly went to discreetly dab them dry. 
“Guess I fucked up. M’sorry. Was a real piece of shit.”
“No,” your voice broke as you stopped him, grabbing his hand on your knee and giving it a squeeze. “Complete opposite of a piece of shit. I had the wrong idea, I should be the one apologizing.”
“Tsh. Nah.” Daryl waved you off and shook his head. “Should’a told ya. Wasn't thinkin' right.” 
The two of you sat in thoughtful silence until the embers began to grow dim. The forest was thick, so even though the sun was visible as it sank lower and lower, it soon became too dark to see properly. 
“My…” you broke the silence, searching for the right word. “Aspirations have changed since then.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Several seconds of silence.
“How'so?”
“Well, I don't care if he smokes, or does drugs, or curses or can't take me out on a date. He doesn't have to build me a house, but that's still an option.” Daryl snorted, and you went on. “But he does have to own a crossbow, ride a motorcycle without a helmet even though I tell him to, and he definitely needs this,” your finger tapped on the skull tattoo on the back of his hand before sliding up his arm to stroke a line down his back, “and these tattoos. And this.” You touched the mole over his upper lip. “And he definitely has to slur all his words together because of his accent.” 
“That's all, huh?” He joked softly, watching you draw your hand away from his face. “Y’got some low standards for a husband.”
“Oh, right, I forgot. He also has to go back to his family, because that's where he belongs.” There was a quick flash of hurt on his face, his lips parting and his eyes narrowing, so you continued. “And because that's where my dream house is going to be built.” 
In all your years knowing Daryl Dixon, you'd never been sexually intimate. You'd never had sex, flirtation only being reserved for playful teasing banter, you'd never really kissed, aside from that one night at the Greene farm. You'd laid with each other multiple times, more often than not sleeping curled up together in the woods or on the floor of some house. Despite never being sexually intimate there was an unspoken mutual understanding of your relationship, you were together, but not in the traditional standard sense. Neither of you ever had interest in a relationship with anyone, that was simply out of the question. Why have a partner when your best friend is everything you need? 
He became your partner at some point, maybe that's why it caused so much anguish to the both of you when you left. But it was only that night that you solidified it. And the next morning, and in the back of the car on your way back, and on the hood of the car, and after your shower back home, and after dinner, on your bed, on the floor, a second time after that, right before bed, and again the moment you woke up. 
It started with a kiss, which just so happened to be his second ever kiss, the first being you in the back of Dale’s RV. You wouldn't have ever guessed, the way he kissed with so much passion and vigor felt akin to a man kissing the same pair of lips he'd kissed his entire life. And you would have never guessed he was a virgin. 
Each touch was as if he was handling precious glassware. He never took off any of your clothes, he'd just gently tug at your shirt until you got the hint and undressed yourself. 
At some point you moved to the back of the car, he laid you down and closed the door behind him. Your soft pants and gasps quickly led to the windows fogging over, and by the end of it there were beads of precipitation dribbling down the glass. 
He led graciously. His fingers were gentle but firm against your clit through your panties, working hard and with determination to give you the orgasm you deserved. He obeyed your requests for ‘circles, ah, softer, to the left, more’, and before long he was a master in the art of making you come. 
Daryl wanted to give you oral, but you quickly pulled him back up, shaking your head as you gasped for air. “N-no, please. You. Need you.” 
It was shocking that he didn't feel embarrassed when he came early. You'd reached down to stroke his cock, only getting in a few strokes before he pulled away with a strangled gasp, spilling his hot cum on your bare stomach. He didn't have time to feel embarrassed because only seconds later you were taking him in your desperate mouth, giving it your all to make him hard again. 
He didn't take long. After stiffening in your mouth he eased your head away, maneuvering you on your back in such an effortless way that it made you look like you weighed nothing. Due to your wetness and unimaginable arousal it didn't hurt at all when he finally pushed in after rubbing his cock all over your desperate slick flesh. 
You cried out anyway. Your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled back, clutching at his bare shoulders when you felt his pelvis fully connect with you. 
“F-fuck.” You groaned as your eyes rolled back, digging your fingers deeper into his skin.
He let out a moan then, a light and vulnerable sound. You could feel him shaking on top of you as he fought not to finish again. It broke your heart, knowing he wanted to have sex with you so badly, to please you like you had him. 
You stayed as still as humanly possible while you waited for him to move. 
Daryl’s breath slowed and he moved, finally. He fucked you slow at first, slow and deep thrusts that managed to bury his dick further and further inside you each time. With each thrust he let out either a shaky whimper or a deep grunt, and soon he was picking up the pace, fucking a moan out of you each time he drove his throbbing cock back inside. 
When his hand connected with the warm skin of your torso you whimpered, tossing your head back against the car seat. His hands stroked your sides, rough and dirty fingers scraping against your nipples and breasts. He gave one a firm squeeze, eliciting a sharp moan from you, one that he eagerly swallowed down with his hungry mouth, kissing you deeply and feverishly. He was breathing heavy through his nose, hot puffs of air sending waves of heat across your upper lip and cheeks.
A rough slam of his pelvis against yours sent the tip of his cock so deep it was almost painful, your gasp choked in your tight throat, your thighs squeezing the life out of his torso. He groaned at how responsive you were, his hot wet lips sliding down your face to start kissing your neck. 
Daryl was quiet in the sense that he didn't say much. He groaned and whimpered, sure, but he hadn’t said a word since entering you. Which was totally fine by you, but you were a sucker for dirty talk. It was one of your favorite parts of sex.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined, hoping to get a response. He just grunted, a possible returned compliment, his head not moving from the crook of your neck. 
A noticeable increase in his pacing had all thoughts vanishing from your mind in a puff of smoke. You could feel the side of his jaw clenching against your neck, the skin hot and prickly with stubble, the friction eventually becoming uncomfortable. As if he could read your mind he raised his head and looked down at you, the tip of his tongue peeking between his teeth, looking like a man in deep, oh, deep, concentration. 
“Fu-uh-uck-” You babbled, your heavy eyelids shutting against the brutal force of his thrusts. You grabbed onto his biceps again and held on for dear life, giving them a squeeze each time he gave a really deep thrust. 
“That’s it.” Your heart jumped in your chest at the sound of his voice, it was gravely and sounded from the base of his throat. You felt your lower stomach do that delicious flip sensation, your clit throbbing in response to his voice. 
“Mmm’god.”
“I know. I know.” He breathed, taking a second to readjust himself between your legs before going back to his artistic thrusting. He was grinding against you then, barely pulling out, using the full weight of his hips to force himself as deep as possible while he ground into you. You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, it was a miracle that a virgin could fuck like that. He was a savant at something he’d never done before. You came hard around his throbbing dick, your walls clenching down so hard that it ripped his orgasm straight out of his body. 
You gasped, your fingers tightening around his flexed biceps as your orgasm shook through you in violent waves. You moved your hips on your own, grinding up and against his pelvis to draw your pleasure  out for  as long as possible. 
Daryl wasn't expecting it, he just came. His jaw dropped and he held onto the nearest body part, which just so happened to be your neck. He didn’t choke you, which came as a slight dismissible disappointment, he just held onto you with his large hands as he finished. It was so sudden and unexpected that he couldn’t control the sounds he made, better for you, he let out this beautiful high moan that sent flashes of Daryl in Atlanta behind your closed eyes. His body shuttered and jerked as every single rope of his cum flooded your insides, coating your vice like walls like spilled paint. 
You didn’t give him time to recuperate. You squirmed under him, swapping your positions, and took his softening cock in your mouth. He groaned under you, grabbing you by your hair to pull you away, only to shudder when he felt his cock growing hard again. You smirked against the tip as he gently pulled you back down.
Halfway through he tugged you off of him, the two of you switching spots once again. You whined when you felt his lips connect with your puffy clit, your mind swirling as he used the flexed tip of his tongue to drift between your slick folds. 
“Oh god, daryl.” You panted and ran your fingers through your sweaty hair to push it back over your head. You were either extremely sensitive due to the two orgasms, or he was an extremely skilled pussy eater. Either way you came fast, clenching your thighs around his head to clamp his mouth tight against you. He didn’t ease up as you came, his tongue and lips pulling tricks you didn’t think possible, drawing out your orgasm longer than any time previously. 
He slid up between your legs, planting kisses from your wet mess up your stomach to your chest. He suddenly bit down on one of your nipples, gentle at first, but the moan that came from your lips had him tightening his teeth.
You were under the impression that he would ease you down from your high with light kisses and soft touches, but apparently, he had other plans. His cock plunged back into you before you had any idea what was happening, and he quickly set a fast and intense pace. His hands slipped around both of your wrists and pulled, using the leverage to both fuck you deeper and keep you firmly in place.
If you could’ve seen the state you were in, you’d be a red hot embarrassed bitch. Your mouth was hanging open, your eyes fluttering between open and closed, sounds coming from your throat that envied any moan and whine to ever come out of a woman's mouth. Your hair kept falling back in your face each time his hips slammed into yours, no matter how many times you hastily pushed it away or tucked it behind your ears. You looked at him for as long as you could, but you were too stimulated, it was too hot, he was too beautiful, you had to let them fall shut as you came again.
As cliche as it sounds, your final orgasm, for that night at least, was world shattering. You didn’t care how loud you were or what types of faces you were making. Your body was completely out of your control, your brain on pause as it struggled to deal with the flood of dopamine and oxytocin. 
Daryl wasn’t looking any better, he’d ran miles before and came out looking more put together. He huffed as he came inside you yet again, his dick twitching with each spurt of cum. He braced himself on his elbows on either side of your body, his head drooping down as he managed a few sloppy thrusts. He muttered something then, something you were too fucked up to make out through his thick and slurred accent.
When he finally drew his red and tender dick out of you his heart seemed to skip a beat. The two loads spilled out the second he withdrew, trickling down your folds and over the swollen head of his dick. That was a sight he’d remember till the day he died.  
You fought to catch your breath after he all but collapsed on top of you. It was pure bliss for a few moments, and then it was too hot and too close. Before you could say anything he lifted himself off of you, still waging his own war against his lungs. 
“Getting old there, huh?” You teased, sliding up into a sitting position after grabbing your panties. Yeah, he's old, it's not the fact you just did the same amount of exercise as swimming across the atlantic ocean.
“Shut up.” He breathed as he wiped his damp hair from his face. 
After a few moments of silence, apart from the sounds of your breathing, you dressed yourselves and began loading all your shit into your car. 
“You really walked six days? No bike, no car?” You questioned as he plopped down into the driver's seat, the flame of his lighter illuminating his face. The smell of cigarette smoke had you leaning over and he pressed the filter against your lips. 
“No bike.”
“That’s kind of stupid.”
“Huh. Rich.” He smirked around the cigarette at you before glancing over his shoulder to watch the dirt road as he reversed.
“Yeah, true.”
Your life wasn’t magically fixed after that night, and neither was Daryls, but it did get a lot easier. You zipped up your coat but your shoes were still full of snow, that kind of better. A lot of shit happened, you had your arguments, but no fights. After RIck died you ran off together looking for his body, for Daryl’s closure, living off in the woods somewhere with a dog that liked to growl at you. He was over possessive of Daryl, and so were you, so the two of you were butting heads often.
He never did build you that house, but you moved into one of the newly built homes in Alexandria. He did build you a back porch, which looked great for someone who’d never built an entire screened in porch before, even if it did look a little raggedy in some spots. He even brought home pots for you to plant ‘shit’ in, as he said. 
Daryl wasn’t home often, which didn't bother you anymore, because you were out there with him. 
@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @louifaith @my1fx @jinx-nanami
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Suguru Geto receiving comfort from his girlfriend y/n
░▒▓██▓▒░░▒▓██▓▒░░▒▓██▓▒░░▒▓█ The room was filled with a tense silence as Suguru Geto sat at his desk, his head buried in his arms. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, the aftermath of a failed mission etched clearly on his face. Y/N, his concerned girlfriend and classmate, approached him slowly, her heart aching for his pain. She knew that words alone wouldn't be enough to soothe him, so she decided to let her actions do the talking.
Y/N gently placed her hand on his shoulder, the warmth of her touch seeping through his shirt like a comforting blanket. "Suguru," she whispered softly, her voice filled with empathy. He didn't move at first, but after a moment, he lifted his head, revealing the depth of his anguish. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you."
Geto looked at her, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'm sorry," he choked out. "I couldn't save them all."
Y/N slid into the chair beside him, her eyes never leaving his. She knew that the weight of his failure was crushing him, but she also knew that he wasn't to blame. "You did everything you could," she said firmly. "You can't save everyone, and that doesn't make you any less of a hero."
He nodded slightly, but the guilt remained, a heavy burden on his soul. Y/N reached up, wiping a tear from his cheek with the pad of her thumb. "Let it out," she encouraged. "You don't have to be strong all the time."
Her gentle touch seemed to break the dam holding back his emotions, and he buried his face in his hands again, sobbing quietly. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. She held him there for what felt like an eternity, her heart breaking with each of his shuddering breaths.
As the sobs began to subside, she whispered sweet nothings into his ear, trying to reassure him that everything would be okay. "You're not alone," she said, her voice soothing. "I'm here with you, and I'll always be here for you."
The warmth of her embrace slowly began to melt the ice around his heart, and he found himself leaning into her, drawing comfort from her presence. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with her calming scent. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice muffled by her hair.
They sat in silence for a while, the only sound in the room being the steady beat of their hearts. Then, as if on cue, Geto's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer. Y/N felt his breath hitch, and she knew what was coming next. She turned her head to face him, and their eyes met his filled with a mix of pain, regret, and longing.
Without a word, Geto leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. It was a silent plea for comfort, for understanding, for love. Y/N responded instinctively, her arms tightening around him as she melted into the kiss. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as they both sought solace in the warmth of their connection.
Their kiss grew more passionate, as if they were trying to erase the pain of the world with the sweetness of their embrace. Geto's hands roamed her back, while hers found their way to his cheeks, holding him as if she could absorb his sorrow through her touch.
Their kisses grew more fervent, as if they were trying to express all the unspoken words of comfort and support they had for each other. They broke apart for a moment, panting, their eyes locked, and in that brief second, they both knew that they had found refuge in each other's arms.
With a silent nod, they leaned in again, their lips meeting in a fiery kiss that spoke of shared pain and unshakeable love. It was a promise that no matter what the future held, they would face it together. And in that moment, the darkness of failure seemed a little less overwhelming.
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crisis-starter · 16 hours
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Hello
I did not expect to write Odile’s moment in less than half a day.
Stars, its twice as long as Mirabelle’s and that took me 2 or 3 days to do.
Well, anyways, I hope you enjoy!
)•{+}•<>+<>•{+}•(
Odile was by the staircase in the final room, waiting to talk with Siffrin. The entire trek through the house was filled to the brim with suspicious activity. Facial expressions, behaviors… it was all strange. And with the knowledge of Wish Craft and Time Craft… she had an idea of what was happening. Bonnie was seemingly thinking about something. She had never seen the child be so quiet before. And Isabeau was looking right at her. Siffrin was chatting with Mirabelle, so she awaited them. Soon they will have to talk to her, she could feel it.
Then she felt the slight twinge of Craft. Isabeau wasn’t looking at her anymore, instead performing an odd kind of craft, if his hand was any indication. And then she heard his voice in her head:
‘M’dame Odile. Please. Whatever you are planning to do right now? At least be gentle.’
Odile copied the hand signal she saw Isabeau making before replying, “He’s trapped himself, and subsequently the entirety of Vaugarde in time! Perhaps even worse than the King! And you don’t want me to say my piece?”
‘I am not saying that you shouldn’t say something. I’m saying that, if you are, please don’t push him. He is already that close to the edge.’
Odile was silent. Skeptical. She had an idea of Isabeau’s stance, but this really couldn’t go unsaid. Siffrin was hiding something that clearly felt like common knowledge to everyone except her. And Isabeau had this… worry in his voice. Like he knew something she didn’t.
‘M’dame. I… I can’t tell you right now. Because we’re on a time limit. But I will tell you what I remember seeing once we get back. Here’s to hoping you remember what happens next.’
Isabeau cut the connection there. Odile looked at Siffrin, and realized why. The rogue had finished talking with Mirabelle. She put her hand down and returned to reading through the notes of her investigation. Siffrin approached her, a seemingly disinterested expression on his face. The two glanced at each other before Odile started talking, “Ah. Woop woop, we did it, we won, etc.”
She wanted to start soft, somewhat. So why not comment on how she feels after the fight with the King? She continued, “Urgh. Whatever. This was… quite a workout. My entire body is screaming.” Odile rolled her shoulders a little. She did feel somewhat sore, “Savior of Vaugarde, huh? That’s something to add to my list of accomplishments.”
Maybe mulling over any future plans may help a smoother transition? She didn’t know. She never said she was… good at this, “But now, I can finally go back to traveling. I’d be curious to visit more Vaugardian cities and hear what they have to say about an event like this. It’ll be weird to travel alone now, but I’ll get used to it again. Or I could just go home to Ka Bue… Hm…” Maybe she could convince the others to travel with her? Not right now, that would be too… embarrassing. Everyone here has their own life. She didn’t want them to put it aside so easily over a grown woman not wanting to leave without a proper goodbye and happy, stress-free memories to take with her.
Siffrin hid in their collar as they spoke, “To do your fake research?” There it was. Another suspicious detail. How they knew her research was fake was a bit of a mystery but she needed to say something, “…Yes. My fake research…” She probably looked a bit… frustrated there. She quickly fixed her expression, “Don’t tell anyone. I’d like to see Isabeau try to figure it out for a little longer. Very excited to hear what he comes up with next. Spoonology? Bananalogy?” Siffrin’s expression changed to that of an odd smile. A fabricated one. Concern began to blossom in her heart.
Maybe Isabeau was right.
Siffrin joked, “Bananalogy would be quite aPEELing.” Odile didn’t find it funny. But… at least fake something, “Hah… Yes.” Her face softened, “Ha… I’ll miss you, Siffrin. You’re a little strange, but you’re a good kid. Maybe try letting down your walls every once in a while, huh?” The researcher felt a smile sneak onto her face, “And come to Ka Bue anytime. Maybe we’ll meet again during your travels.” Odile really hoped so. Siffrin forced himself to smile. Wait.
Odile looked at Siffrin, concern fueling her entire being, “…Siffrin, is everything-“ Siffrin’s expression flashed into something akin to confusion for a second. Odile looked around. Bonnie, Mirabelle, and Isabeau were looking at her, worried. Great. She had spectators now. But… was she the main act? She sighed, hoping to brush off the added tension. She hoped that this would go smoothly. Odile asked, softly, “But really, is everything okay?” Siffrin is back to that fabricated smile, “What do you mean?”
Oh… Oh this is how things will have to go, huh. She continued, “I don’t know, Siffrin. You’ve felt off since yesterday. More withdrawn, mostly. Tell me what’s wrong.” Siffrin continued avoiding the question, “Nothing’s wrong!” This defiance… it was messing with Odile’s patience. But she was trying, “…it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me, you know. I’ll find out eventually.” She probably already did. Maybe everyone did, and she doesn’t remember. Siffrin replied, hiding in their collar again, “But I’m not hiding anything.” And that was the final straw. All attention was on them both. She was starting to get a headache. Time to lay it all out, no matter how harsh it felt.
Odile looked at Siffrin, abandoning any kind of calm or leniency, “Is that so.” She made her frustration known, “Is that so? So Time Craft has nothing to do with you?” Siffrin dropped the facade and grew shocked, “No that’s-“ Odile will not let him deny it. She continued, noticing Isabeau trying to approach. No. She needed to say her piece, “And the fact that you knew how to read that book about Wish Craft… Knew how to wish correctly, when no one else did… It doesn’t mean anything, either?”
Siffrin gave that fake smile, only more shaky, “It’s not like that, I-“ She was cornering them. No more excuses, just continue, “And the way you’re acting, doing that stupid smile like nothing’s wrong… It doesn’t mean anything, either?!?” The smile was dropped. Siffrin was looking at Odile, shaken. Silent. There’s more evidence.
She looked away slightly, still stern, “I’m not stupid, Siffrin. If I find something strange, I can do nothing except give it my full attention.” She turned her attention back to Siffrin, “And you are acting strange.” Siffrin looked stressed. Staring at her with this need to run away, but being unable to. Her headache was getting worse. She’ll deal with it later.
It was at this point she made her anger known, “There were so many signs… I did not understand them, but now I do! You’ve been acting strange since you woke up from your nap, yesterday!” She started to ramble on about more evidence that came to mind, “When we talk to you, you act out of it, almost bored… And the way you reacted to the rocks falling… We all jumped, but you just looked at them fall, calmly.” Odile rose her voice again, “And there’s so many other things, the way you reacted to so many things throughout our entire journey through the House!” The researcher faltered a little, “And, and… How every time you found the keys we needed to proceed, you didn’t seem surprised, like you knew exactly where they were. Even that key in the classroom. Almost like…” Odile looked at Siffrin for answers, “…Like you had found them before, maybe?”
Siffrin started to grow panicked, “B-but that’d be impossible, though!” Isabeau was looking at the two of them, nervous yet willing to step in. Siffrin attempted to reason. To save themselves, “How could I have known where the keys were when it’s my first time here?!?” Odile, frustrated, asked, “I don’t know, Siffrin, why don’t you enlighten me?!” Siffrin’s breathing was escalating. Odile continued, “Don’t think I believed that whole ‘I wished croissants would disappear~’ thing, too. So, if you lied about your wish… What did you wish for, then? That’s it, isn’t it?” The researcher looked at her hands, “Did something happen? To you, to us? Did we die against the King, maybe?” Odile looked up, spotting Siffrin pulling at his hair. Oh no. She only had one thing left to say, then she could try to start calming Siffrin down. It’ll be okay. She finished by asking, “Is that why you’re repeating the same events, Siffrin?” She was about to maybe ask Siffrin to calm down and relax before it happened.
Siffrin snapped back, “SHUT UP!!!”
Everyone was startled by the outburst. Odile herself was shaken. Isabeau was right. She couldn’t be a bit softer, huh? And now, Siffrin was on the edge of a breakdown. The traveler continued, breath ragged and irregular, “Even if you figure it out, Odile… It’s too late! It’s too late! It’s always too late!!!” Siffrin looked right into Odile’s eyes as they spoke, a combination of panic and rage in his eyes, “Did you have to figure it all out now, when it’s all about to end? You can’t help me, Odile!!! No one can!!!”
Isabeau was stunned, muttering a quiet, “Sif, Odile…?” Bonnie was hidden behind Mirabelle, asking, “What’s happening? Why are you yelling?” …When did they get so close? Odile’s headache was getting worse. The air started to feel strange. Her heart was pounding in her ears.
Siffrin continued, erratic, “It’s too late!!! YOU CAN’T HELP ME!!!” Odile tried to get a word in, but couldn’t. So she continued to listen to Siffrin’s pleas, “And I think, weirdly, I don’t even want you to help me?” Siffrin gave a panicked smile, “Why don’t I want you to help me?”
Odile felt her hands shaking. What… was this her fault? Was she the final straw? All she could really do was try to ask them to calm down, “Siffrin-“ But she couldn’t even do that without being cut off, “Maybe because I know that if you help me, you’ll start hating me!!!”
What?
“Because I don’t know why this is all happening, but-“
Wait.
“It must be because of me, that we’re repeating the same events!!!”
Siffrin stop. Please, you’ll hurt-
“And if you knew that, you’d hate me-“
Mirabelle cried out, “Siffrin?!” Maybe to snap him out of it. The air tasted like sugar. A taste so strong, it was horrible. A terrible omen. Siffrin continued, “And I don’t want you to hate me. So, so, so-“
And everything stopped before everyone was sent back to their places. Odile was silent. She decided… to say something, “Siffrin, please. You don’t… have to talk to me. But I will find out somehow. What’s causing you… harm.” She already knew. But maybe it was more comforting to claim ignorance. Siffrin quickly fabricated a smile before cheerfully saying, “Maybe, teehee!”
That… that felt unsettling.
Bonnie, Mirabelle, and Isabeau looked at Odile, worried. Odile herself? She wanted to sit down. She felt faint. That was so much information to take in at once.
Just how… how deep has Siffrin buried himself?
Siffrin faced her, the same chilling smile on their face. Odile stated, “Alright, well, if that was all…” Siffrin took this as his cue to leave as Isabeau straightened his act up.
Once Siffrin was gone, Odile sat down on the stairs. Her headache was gone, but she felt guilty. She just sat there silently, internalizing information.
It seemed that her spacing out helped pass by sooner, because she soon found Isabeau by her side, trying to check if she was doing okay. She could barely hear him.
Her eyes were on Siffrin. They hesitated a little before trying to talk to the Head Housemaiden. Then they approached her. They happily told Euphrasie about something. She responded happily.
Then the pressure in the air grew. Something was wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out. The Head Housemaiden was dismayed. Siffrin pleaded with her.
She crouched down to Siffrin’s level, cupping the rogue’s cheeks with her hands. She made sure she was close to Siffrin as tears streamed down her face. Siffrin was stunned. He couldn’t move. The world grew darker. Something was happening. Something was oh so horribly wrong.
A lightless shade almost appeared to engulf everything. For a split second, Odile saw something. Hundreds of silhouettes. They all looked just like Siffrin. All looking at Euphrasie. And then…
She awoke and stumbled back, nearly crashing into the shelf behind her. Her heart was pounding. So she attempted to calm down. Then she heard someone enter the shop.
Isabeau was trying to catch his breath at the entrance. He looked at Odile, worried, “Are you alright, M’dame?” Odile just looked at him, shocked. Her hands were shaking again. Isabeau sighed, “So… you remember, hm?”
)•{+}•<>+<>•{+}•(
This was VERY fun to write.
So… those are the 4 “loop awakenings”.
I’ll compile them all in chronological order and post it to AO3 (which was the original plan but I felt like you folks would like it).
I hope you have a good day/night! Until next time!
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