#I tried to write angst and sadness and it's so hard!!
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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 2 days ago
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Are you going to write the part two of lack of communication?
A/n: This was absolutely not how I planned on this turning out but I was not thinking while writing and came up with this. Do I like it? No, is it written? Technically.
Warnings: Smut, slight angst
Part 1
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Duff did whatever to forget you that day, drinking himself to the grave until their show that same night.
He was in his dressing room, rocking slightly until he was told to get on stage. He was in no state to play but he knew he had to.
In the backstage area he saw you for the first time since that morning, curled up under Nikki's arm.
Duff stood farther away, staring longer than he meant to. Nikki nudged you and got you up, silently telling you to go play so you did.
Nikki went to Duff, though the blond tried to get away from him. "Duff, hang on." The raven haired said, placing a hand on Duff's shoulder. "Fuck did you do to her?" He asked.
"Thought you'd already know." He answered, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yeah, I do, I wanted to hear your side 'cause you seem like a chill dude." He said, pulling his hand back as Duff turned to look at him. "Look, we're friends, alright? That's all it is."
Duff scoffed at that. "Or so I've heard." Nikki rolled his eyes at him. "Fuck you and fuck her, man, I've got a show to play." He grumbled as he headed off onto the stage, too out of it to really think of much else.
Nikki watched him stagger away onto the stage, knowing it wasn't going to end great.
Duff managed to play but that's about all he did, he played his part and got off stage, crawled into the limo out back and drank himself to bed.
Sleep didn't come easy, he missed you. He missed his arms around you and kissing the top of your head, he missed palming your belly pudge and feeling your human-ness. He missed you, and it was all his fault.
He felt tears building in his eyes but didn't care enough to stop them. You were in Nikki's bed, in his arms, laying on his chest. It was supposed to be him, yet when you needed him he made it hard for you to want him.
His tears soaked into the pillow under his head and he held it tighter, closing his eyes and pretending it was you.
Duff was woken up to get on the plane, he was never big on planes, something about being in a metal tube in the sky it always had his anxiety acting up.
As he was walking up the stairs he felt his chest tightening, already feeling like the air was thinner. He hated it, couldn't stand that sense of panic rising in him.
You were seated next to none other than Nikki Sixx, but you watched Duff closely. Usually you'd be there to calm him down, to keep him focused on other things or just to give him a drug buddy so he could wash it all away.
He wanted nothing more than to crawl into your lap and cry but he stopped himself and made a beeline for the sleeping quarters, his room specifically where he planned to cage himself until the plane landed.
He turned the lights off and curled up in bed, holding a pillow over his head, covering his ears.
He was so worked up he hadn't heard you come in. The mattress dipped under your weight as you sat down on the edge of the bed, bringing a hand to his shoulder and rubbing down his arm in a soothing motion.
He looked back at you, eye wide and full of a mix of emotions. Anger, panic, sadness. You moved closer to him, letting him move his head to your lap on his own.
"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." He mumbled, words slurring together as he tugged on your clothes.
You hand your fingers through his hair and shook your head. "Don't worry about it, just... you have other things to think about right now." You said, keeping your voice soft.
Duff kicked at the blankets until they were off of him and he pulled you down, holding you on top of him in place of a weighted blanket.
You continued to run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp and smoothing the pads of your fingertips over his soft skin, his cheeks and jaw, forehead, tracing his nose and other features while he focused on breathing straight.
You couldn't help yourself and kissed his lips, it was quick and sweet but when you pulled away he pulled you back, not letting you get a breath in.
You could feel his body reacting to your touch under you, how he rolled his hard cock into you, longs legs working between yours and spreading them, making you straddle his lap.
"Distract me." He said against your lips. You knew what he meant, not caring enough to take yours or his clothes off, just pushing them out of the way enough for him to be in you.
You felt that familiar push in your gut, that stretch. Him.
Your hips worked with his, rolling and rutting, hands planted firmly on his chest as you bounced on him. The plane hadn't even taken off yet and already you were making a mess in the sheets.
Duff was twitching inside you, hands gripping your hips and guiding you on his length. You felt his cum spurting out in hot strings inside you, coating your gummy walls and you couldn't get enough of the feeling. You followed shortly after, stretching out on top of him instead of rolling off.
The plane had started moving, getting ready to take off.
Duff reached off the bed to his bag and pulled out a little baggy with small rolls in them. "How the hell did you get past security with that?" You asked as he lit one up, taking a long drag of it.
"You can buy anyone off," he said, lungs full of smoke, "some people are just cheaper than others." He exhaled, blowing the sweet smelling smoke into your face.
He held the blunt to your lips, giving you a taste before you rested your head on his chest.
"Why're you such a bitch sometimes?" You asked, tracing shapes on his arm.
He shrugged. "Because I'm stupid." He grumbled, breathing in more smoke. "And you were with Nikki Sixx."
"I never said I liked him."
"But you do."
"I do not!" You protested, swatting his chest. "I would've loved to tell you that but you're a bitch!"
Duff huffed and handed you the blunt. "Someone needs this more than me."
You shot him a look, tapping the joint out and letting the ash fall onto him. He hissed and brushed it off his chest. "Say that again and I'll put it out on you." You grumbled, taking another drag.
Duff rolled his eyes at you but didn't say much more as he focused on not focusing on the flight, instead watching you, your lips wrapped around the blunt as you smoked, how you clenched around him occasionally.
High sex was his favourite, everything felt better but you had to find that perfect level otherwise you felt nothing. He right now he was perfect, staring at you with your sleepy red eyes, smoke blowing in his face.
Duff kept his distance the rest of the tour. You continued to share a bed unless you got tired of his odd demeaner and went to bed with Nikki.
He didn't spend time with groupies, he didn't go out drinking. He still drank and drugged just behind closed doors in his hotel room.
He barely spoke more than ten words a day to you, sometimes a week.
You didn't say anything at first, figuring he'd get over it at some point, but he didn't.
You were sick of it. You'd been at home all day, relaxing after the tour, and you were so, so fed up with how he was acting.
you stormed over to his house, banging on his door and ringing his doorbell until he answered. Obnoxious as you could be it was effective and he opened the door.
"The fuck's wrong with you?!" You yelled, slamming a hand on his chest.
Duff took a fumbled step back, giving you a chance to look into his house and you saw a woman sitting there on his couch. You looked back to him, brows knit tight. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
A confused expression grew on Duff's face at your question and he glanced around, quickly shaking his head when he saw the girl. "No, no, well, yeah... no!" He settled on. "It's not, we- Come." He took you by the arm, dragging you into his house to the couch where the woman sat.
In front of her was a cloth with rings of all kinds, diamond, opal, moonstone, lapiz, emerald, silver band, gold band, whatever you could think of.
"Pick." He said bluntly.
"What?" You asked, looking up at him. Now it was your turn to be confused.
"Pick." He repeated, gesturing to the rings.
"I'm not marrying you, not after you've been acting like this." You said, crossing your arms over you chest.
Duff's gaze flickered over your face a moment longer. "Not- I'm not asking you to marry me yet." He said, you didn't miss the 'yet'. "It's a promise ring. I love you, I'm committed to you, I'm yours... I want you to want me like that."
You stared at him a moment before looking back to the rings. "I-I don't need a-"
"Pick." He said more firmly this time, grabbing your hips and pushing you towards the rings so you could see them better.
You grabbed a random one and handed it to him, he placed it back. "Different one, you'll hate this." When you saw what stone it was you agreed.
You thought long about it, if you picked one to get him off your back he'd tell you to try again, he knew you too well and you hadn't even realized he would.
Finally, you picked another one and handed it to him. He stared at it and looked back to you before setting it down again. "Pick one you actually want to wear."
You looked back to the cloth. "I did and you put it back."
Duff rolled his eyes. "You keep asking for my approval, you don't do that." He was right, you never asked his permission or advice. You did as you pleased and he backed you up, it's one of the things he loved about you. You didn't take no, you had an opinion and you stuck by it.
Some called you stubborn but now you knew which ring to pick.
You handed it to him and held your hand out. "I thought I just-"
"Put it on." You said, interrupting him for once. You weren't asking, you were telling, and he did it with a smile. Holding your hand gently in his and pushing the ring onto your finger before kissing your knuckle sweetly.
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cloudd-nyne · 6 months ago
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#having a creative rut feeling#gonna rant#im basically a giant baby and i don't handle angst very well#and i constantly worry that im just. idk mentally weak or a deeply uninteresting person bc of it.#every big fantasy artist i see is usually very into making sad or angsty pieces and like i wish i was like that#like i fall into this mental hole very very often that im just holding myself back with how many subjects i dont write or draw#but also like when i DO write dark subjects it doesn't make me feel any better??#i dont like feeling sad or angry bc once i am its extremely hard to get back out of it.#and thats scary for me.#but also i want to make art that means something instead of my nonestop slew of smut and feelgood content.#i genuinely feel so trapped by my own emotions and its sp frustrating.#i keep getting told how good for you it is to get the negative feelings out but it never helps when i do it#i just feel. worse? i dont feel good.#i kinda wanna delete the one cloud post bc it just doesn't feel good.#ugh#idk i want to have good intelligent things to say and thoughtful art to make#and everything i make feels soft and cheesey and lame.#not that i find those things lame#but just that it feels like im stuck in baby brain.#when i was a teen i would write horror stories!!! i still love horror!!!#but if i make someone suffer in fic now it feels me with this awful awful overwhelming sense of dread and guilt and i end up so upset#im frustrated at me bc this is such a fucking weird sensitivity to have. im tried of telling myself its okay#bc i WANT to feel mentally free enough to create shit that isnt just uwu soft.#i don't think im making sense but like.#you know#I've literally been bullied out of fandom spaces for only making soft content#multiple times.#so idk maybe this is a learned sense of shame#but i feel like a big over sensitive baby and like I'd be able to do so much more if i wasn't#vent ish
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shoyudon · 5 months ago
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𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 .ᐟ
them forgetting a date night.
starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader
heads up. cursing, no fluff, sukuna can use a phone (bcs u taught him lol /j), sukuna calling u "woman"
note. haiii, how are you guys doing? make sure to take care of yourself!! i'm feeling a bit angsty today, so i'm gonna write a bit of angst. i miss gojo, like so much u guys :( i might make a part two for this btw hehe
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──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
the one thing you hated more than people being late was people who don't keep their promises — your boyfriend wasn't an exception to it. gojo's a busy man, you get it. for months you haven't been able to see him because he was so caught up in the jujutsu world; he saves people dan and night from lingering curses that it broke you a bit.
the jujutsu world treats him like a weapon; and you never liked it. despite your constant battering on him, trying to get him to quit and just settled in for a quiet life, he tells you that he can't. that people needed him, and you felt selfish.
but isn't it fine to be selfish sometimes?
clutching onto your phone, you'd tried dialing gojo's number at least six times before he answers. his voice groggy and slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, "huh . . . hello?"
you wanted to yell at him, especially because he was the one who has been reminding you about this particular date night — and he was the one to forget about it, "good sleep?" you ended up asking him, voice hard.
"y/n . . . why did you—"
"why did i call? oh, i don't know. maybe because my boyfriend stood me up for an hour and a half. i look like an idiot sitting here, satoru," you mutter out in embarrassment, avoiding the lingering gazes from both waiters and waitresses around you.
for the past hour, you've lost count of how many times you'd ask them to refill your glass of tea — embarrassing. then telling them you were waiting for someone when they tried to ask you if you were going to order anything since there were people waiting for a table, just for the said person not showing up.
"what time is— oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry, i fell asleep when i was work—"
before he could finish his words, you finished it for him, "working. i get it, you're always working. clearly, you don't have time for anything else, right?" you ask him, signaling the waiter nearby for the bill.
"baby, i know. i'm so sorry, i'm on my way, okay? please," he whispers. you could hear a few shuffling on the background; along with a few curses he muttered under his breath as he stumble over his feet, mind hazy from all the sudden movements he was doing despite just waking up.
"no need. i'm leaving the place," you mutter, walking out of the restaurant — heels clacking on the pavement, "and 'm leaving you, because clearly you're not ready for a relationship, so bye."
gojo yells out, "what? no, baby. i swear — i'll make it up to you, please. don't leave me . . ." he rambled on the same words over and over again, "where are you? i'm picking you up. please, can we talk about this? i'm sorry, i know i should've—"
"bye, satoru," and with that you ended the call.
──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
you fiddled the hem of your dress as you sat inside the almost closed restaurant, the last speck of hope you had on your boyfriend —sukuna— dissipating into hopelessness. standing up you walked over to the cashier, taking out your card to pay for the one glass of shrimp cocktail and one glass of white wine.
the cashier shot you a sympathetic look, and you didn't dare to look her into her eyes. face hard from embarrassment and shame, "thank you for coming, come again next time, ma'am . . ." she bids you goodbye as she returns your card.
walking out of the restaurant that now had the 'closed' sign flipped made your stomach churn in mixed feelings: anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness, everything all at once.
sinking your nails onto the palm of your hand, you muttered out strings of curses. you knew being in a relationship with someone who had no understanding to the concept of love was a hard thing — but honestly, you thought you got a hang of it. all this time you had been nothing but patient with sukuna, but maybe even that wasn't enough for him.
three hours. you sat alone inside the restaurant you booked for the both of you for three hours — each hour depleting your hope even more. and sukuna just managed to fuck it up even after he said he'd try. well, you should've underlined the keyword there: he said he'd try not that he'd come.
maybe you saw it coming yet it still disappointed you anyways.
your phone rang. even before you see who it was — you knew it's none other than sukuna. your heart screamed at you to answer his phone call, but your mind told you to leave it ringing because you were in no mood to talk to him. yet, at the end — you still pressed the answer button.
"what?"
"where are you?" his rough voice echoed through the line as you walked down the nearly empty street, holding onto your purse, "place's closed."
scoffing, you answered, "'f course it's closed, it's almost ten. i've been waiting for three hours, ryo. three hours."
you could hear him inhale sharply, "i was caught up with something, woman. where are you now?" he questioned. hearing a few car honking behind on the background, "where are you? answer me."
"doesn't matter, i left. and i'm leaving you, i was wrong thinking maybe i could've changed you — turns out, i couldn't. good luck to you," you mutter out sternly.
sukuna raised a brow, "y're kidding."
you weren't, and all he could hear next was the loud dial tune of the other line hanging up — now did he realize that this was all serious and you were actually leaving him for good.
──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
you sighed, dialing toji for the first time of the night when he said that he was going to pick you up for a date, the phone rung for a while before going into voicemail. grumbling under your breath, you tried dialing him again for the second time, which ended up the same way.
all these time spent on makeup and picking out the best outfit — all for nothing as your boyfriend, toji failed to show up on time. angry, you tried calling him again for the third time, only for it to end up in voicemail yet again. this time you decided to leave a message for him.
"hey, you forgot. didn't you? hope you're happy with yourself, cause 'm not."
dating toji wasn't the easiest — but you love him, no matter what he was like. and it was stupid of you to do so, all this time you've defended his name against your friends' malice towards him, saying how he wasn't treating you well enough and that you deserved so much better.
despite all that, you love him. disregarding their words, retorting back to how toji treats you well, which he does — except for the times he tended to forget about everything, even you. maybe it was time to open your eyes and actually break up; because you did deserve better than this.
it would be a shame to let all this makeup go to waste, and so you hailed a cab and decided to go out for a treat. and made the best out of everything, that is until toji decided it would be the most convenient time to call you back amidst your little "me time".
wiping your hand on the napkin, you answered him, "huh, you're alive," you muttered out, huffing.
he sighs, "i forgot, sorry." you couldn't see him, but toji actually looked remorseful, already on his way out of his apartment to yours, "i'm on my way."
you chuckled, "doesn't matter. i left my house," you informed, taking a bite out of the crab meat, "so don't bother coming — and i don't think i don't deserve this kind of treatment from anyone, even you, toji. i'm breaking up with you because clearly you don't take this relationship as seriously as i am."
toji furrowed his brows, "i forgot, i fucked up, i can make it up. where are you right now?" he asks, his voice still as calm as cucumber. but the look on his face contradicted the tone of his voice.
"bye, toji. good luck."
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�� shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !
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hoonatic · 3 months ago
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emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader
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prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3
sunghoon was miserable. 
it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.
he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.
at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.
he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.
but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself. 
you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.
but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.
he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.
he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn’t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.
so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.
he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.
but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.
SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.
sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.
he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.
his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.
“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”
but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.
for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.
finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.
the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.
why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.
when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.
he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?
the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?
“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.
as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.
“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.
as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you. 
the officer, however, pulled him back.
“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”
“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”
“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”
all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.
he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.
he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,
“sunghoon?!”
his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.
he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms. 
you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,
“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”
suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.
that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.
you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”
the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.
you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.
“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."
"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."
sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”
after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,
“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”
after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.
he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.
“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”
you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.
his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.
but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.
he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.
“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.
you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”
“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.
“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”
“i quit my job.”
“excuse me?”
“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.
you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?
while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.
he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.
you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.
“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”
sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”
“okay. and i love you too. can’t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”
one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.
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jamminvroomvroom · 4 months ago
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🎀 anon
congrats on 5k
hey bb ! i’ve been brainrotting on insatiable lando and his gf for weeks now omg
for a cute lil fic i was thinking of reader being max f’s sister and lando and her being secretly together. they’re all on vacation together and lando and reader are super insanely insatiable and the story on how they act on vacay 😈😈
anywhere she wants.
ln x fem fewtrell!reader
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in which no one approves of your relationship, so lando shows them just how good he is to you…
oh my sweet 🎀 anon, i’m sorry this took so long! slowly getting back into the groove of writing, starting with this little piece! i went a bit off script but the vibes are hopefully similar to the request! huge thanks to angel bby @fairene for helping me out!enjoy! lemme know what you think!! big hugs and lots of love 💖
songs to set the mood: my love mine all mine by mitski, i know places by taylor swift, she will be loved by maroon 5, summertime sadness by lana del rey
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, fluff, angst, a bit of exhibitionism kinda, oral (fem receiving), fingering, p in v, established relationship, max being a dick, angry/feral!lando, girlboss!reader, hints of ownership kink? for like. a second, lando being wise (not canon lmao), swearing
4.2k words
fairy lights drench the pool with light, a glow dancing over the still surface in ripples. you smile, hum with content as the warm evening air washes over your skin, leaning over the balcony to take in the sight of where you’ll be staying.
footsteps sound from behind you, the master bedroom, and you quickly feel two warm arms wrap around your waist, tan and thick. you lean into his touch, chest warming from the kisses peppered over your jugular.
“you like it?” lando breathes, nosing over your earlobe.
“it’s beautiful.” you whisper, turning your head to nuzzle against him. he seizes the opportunity to seal his lips over yours, kissing you soft and deep. you spin in his arms, clutching at his shirt to hold him close, the kiss intensifying, changing pace. just as he licks into your mouth, a sigh, so loud that it breaks the sound barrier, tears you both apart.
“so is that all you two do now, suck each others faces?” max rolls his eyes, his disapproval of your relationship one of the worlds worst kept secrets.
“yes, max. that’s all we do.” you mock, biting back at your older brother.
because of course you’re dating your brothers best friend. of course you are. life is funny like that.
lando stays silent, but you feel his hand on your waist tightening. max swallows hard.
“we ordered pizza, if you guys wanna come down.” max bulldozes through the awkwardness, offering an olive branch, and leaves.
“he is such a knob.” you mutter, shaking your head. lando strokes tentatively over your cheek, soothing you.
“he’s your big brother, baby. he’ll get over this.” lando coos reassuringly, and you choose the easy path of believing him.
you and max occupy opposite ends of the excessively large dining table when you join the rest of your friends.
the tension has been palpable between you and max since he caught you sneaking out of lando’s london flat one morning, the reason for your visit quite clear. you’d stood with your ear to the door when he’d stormed past you and entered the apartment, making you more than aware that your presence was unwanted when he quickly slammed the door behind him.
you’d endured the one-sided screaming match that followed, the accusations that lando must be playing with your feelings, that it would never work out, that it wasn’t fair at how exposed you’d be to the cruelty of his fan base, that he couldn’t believe how low lando would stoop to date his little fucking sister.
you wanted to understand, and really, you tried!but max hadn’t made it easy, constantly pushing your buttons and making needless digs at the both of you. lando convinced you that this holiday during the summer break would be healing; max would get to see how much lando cared for you, and everyone got much needed time to relax. so, with your friend group in tow, the three of you jetted off to the tiny spanish island.
surely, everything would be fine.
-
everything was not, in fact, fine.
you can smell it in the air, the tension building thick and heavy. everyone thought they were slick, waiting for lando to leave so they could corner you, and corner you, they did.
lando had kissed you sweetly by the sliding doors to the garden, popping his airpods in and shouting a quick: going on a run! to the rest of your holiday party. you’d sauntered carelessly to a lounger, bikini clad, sprawling out across the chair to tan and watch the who can do the best canon ball into the pool competition that has become a long running championship. but you can feel stares, feel the walls closing in, and you push your sunglasses up to rest over your hairline.
max and pietra are locked in on you, as are the rest of your friends.
“what?” you feel hot, embarrassed all of the sudden for no reason at all.
“so, it’s going well, then… with lando?” one of your girlfriends starts, but it sounds extra high pitched, awkward. your stomach sinks as you realise the pathetically choreographed dance about to take place.
“for fuck sake.” you mutter.
“she’s just asking!” max shoots back, as if he’s offended, as if you can’t see right through him.
“it’s going great.” you state, blunt as ever whenever your relationship is questioned.
“we just wanna make sure that this is right for you.” pietra says sympathetically, her eyes soft. you’ve known her long enough to know that even though her dickhead boyfriend is being callous, she genuinely cares.
“lando is right for me, you are all so full of shit! i don’t get what it is that you’re seeing.” you try and keep your voice level, even as your blood pressure begins to rise menacingly.
“it’s not so much what we see between you, it’s more about what he was like before.” tom jumps in.
ah, yes. the infamous hoe phase.
“because no one here ever fucked around.” you glare pointedly at your brother. he lowers his gaze.
“are we sure this isn’t just a… a fling?” pietra tries again, staying soft. her words still sting.
“yeah, i know him better than you do, and i-“ max’s voice cuts you like a thousand shards of glass and you body ignites with rage.
he knows him better? what does he know?
does he know that lando can’t sleep without telling you that he loves you? does he know that lando cried into you arms after his miami win? does he know that lando feels itchy if he doesn’t tell you that you’re beautiful at least eleven times an hour? does he know that you’re so crazy about his gorgeous, loving, infuriating best friend that you’re prepared to tell your brother where to go and to never come back?
“shut the fuck up, max. you know nothing! nothing about our relationship because you never gave us a chance. you don’t see how much i love him because every time you see us together, you’re hellbent on destroying our happiness.” you point angrily, standing from your chair. before you turn to the house, you leave them all with a parting message.
“and all of you will do very well to remember who paid to bring your bitter arses here. remember whose fucking house you’re in.” you lecture, watching as they all turn sheepish as they realise how ungrateful they sound.
“i don’t think i have anything to add.” you hear from behind you.
you jump, turning to see lando leaning against the door.
“shit, baby.” you breathe, rushing towards him, your skin crawling as you wonder how much he’s heard.
“forgot my phone.” he shrugs, smiling warmly at you. only at you. “now unless anyone has anything to add, i’m gonna take my very, very serious girlfriend upstairs.” he grins smugly.
the silence is so deafening that you couldn’t of even heard a pin drop if you’d tried.
you hold up your middle finger as he leads you away.
your bedroom door slams so hard that they must hear it outside. he’s tense, enraged at the disrespect that you’d endured, but he’s soft with you, pulling you into his rigid body. he relaxes into you, walking you further into the room.
“how much did you hear?” you whisper, clinging to him.
“oh, you know, just all of it.” he laughs bitterly, fingers sinking into your hips.
“they’re assholes.” you growl, threading your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, just the way he likes it.
“there is one good thing about it though.” lando hums, still guiding you deeper into the room. your back thuds softly against the sliding glass door, the one that leads to your balcony.
“what?” you breathe, suddenly extremely aware of his lower body.
“you’re so fucking sexy when you’re mad.” he smirks.
turns out, he didn’t steal you away to mope.
his lips crash against yours fiercely, teeth and tongue getting in on the action as he moves his mouth feverishly against your own. your neck tilts back, allowing him to swallow you whole, like his life depends on the feeling of you pressed against him. he trails kisses over your cheek, across your jaw, down your neck, two fingers grazing your ribcage. he snaps the tie of your bikini against your skin, stone cold aware of the lack of clothing adorning your body and he hums low from the back of his throat.
“they need to learn that you’re mine, that you’re always gonna be mine.” lando grunts, pulling away to slide the door open. he pushes you out onto the balcony, the one that overlooks the very pool that your friends and your brother are licking their wounds around.
“lando…” you gasp, weary of his overly adventurous attitude.
“maybe this will make them realise just how crazy you make me.” lando looks possessed, moving towards you like a wild animal engulfing its prey.
he cages you in against the wall, pulling one leg over his hip to spread you open, his fingers travelling to the flimsy tie of your bikini bottoms. you’re already soaked, embarrassingly so, really, but there’s just something about those gorgeous, haunted eyes. lando let’s the bottoms fall to the floor, kicking them away impatiently as he quickly finds home between your legs.
“think anyone else can get you this wet?” lando asks, eyes rolling back as he finds your slick folds. your jaw drops, already boneless at the feel of him. “answer me, baby. nice ‘n loud for me.” he demands.
“no, lan.” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. he’s teasing, stroking lightly over your folds and your sensitive bud.
“and can anyone else make you feel this good? i mean, baby, i’ve barely touched you and you’re shaking.” lando’s teeth catch his bottom lip, his eyes glazing over as he watches you.
“lando, please.” you mutter, grinding down on his hand. you need more of him. he grins, flashing his teeth with pride as he renders you desperate.
“my pretty girl fucking my hand, god, you’re so perfect.” lando praises, earning a moan from your kiss-swollen lips. “bet they can hear how soaked you are, baby.”
you flush red, shame and embarrassment blurring the pleasure and you press a tense hand to your mouth, trying to silence the waterfall of whines.
“don’t you fucking dare.” he warns, sliding his fingers deep into your pussy. he gives you no time to adjust, curling them upwards and rocking his whole hand against you. his palm bumps against your clit and you writhe against the wall.
there’s no point covering your mouth, there is no hiding what’s happening. you let him have you how he wants you, a consolation for him having to hear his friends badmouth him, and he takes every liberty, mouthing at your covered tits, lapping over your peaked nipples. you cry out, weak as he manipulates your body closer to an orgasm, your wetness trickling down his wrist.
“so good to me, baby, only you, lando.” you choke, your voice echoing between the stone walls.
“that’s it, honey, make a mess for me. let ‘em hear you pretty girl.” he encourages, talking you straight into your first orgasm.
you tremble, gushing all over his hand as you cum, droplets splattering all over the paved floor. lando’s eyes turn black, mouth hanging open as he watches you fall apart, riding you through it.
lando let’s you cool down, propping you carefully against the wall, and leaning over the balcony. funnily enough, max is long gone, but the rest of them sit in stunned silence. he can’t help himself, driven mad by your quivering body and their cruel jabs, choosing whatever the opposite of the high road is. he reaches into his pocket, finding his credit card.
“get out of the villa that i paid for so i can fuck my girlfriend anywhere she wants.” he shouts, watching the way their necks snap up to look at him, revelling in their reddened faces that are not just flushed from the sun. “take this. have dinner. just fuck off.” he frisbees his card at tom, - rather carelessly really, considering just how much there was to lose on that little black square - and he revels in the way it lands square against his forehead.
they all stand up and scurry away, as few faint sorry’s! carrying through the air towards the couple on the balcony, but lando has more important business to attend to.
he scoops you up into his arms, grinning at your coy smile and your drooping eyes. he carries you to bed, planting you in the middle of the mattress.
“not done with you yet, baby, open those eyes for me.” lando coos, crawling over you, his shirt and workout shorts flung to the other side of the room. he feels delicious against you, caging you in beneath him.
“want you, lan.” you plead, a desperate smile on your face as you keen, stretching against the mattress like a cat.
“you’ll have me, baby. always gonna have me.” he smiles, eyes finding yours. “i love you.”
“love you so much.” you whisper, pulling him flush against you. “no matter what.” you affirm. he needed to hear that, it seems, his eyes sparkling with something else, other than the sheen of lust.
he kisses you, firm and wanting, his fingertips sliding up over your arms, leaving prickles of lightning and goosebumps in their wake. one of his hands interlocks with yours, twining together above your head, his body stretching languidly over yours. you can feel him, hard and throbbing between your legs, teetering on the knife edge of self control.
“take me, lando. have me how you want me. ‘m yours.” you croon, disguising a helpless whine as you arch your body into his. you’re squirming for it, to feel him sink deep and claim you his.
that seems to usher him along, and he drags his cock through your folds with a slow roll of his hips, the head catching your sodden entrance. you hiss, the intrusion not even nearly enough, but the sensation overwhelming you nonetheless. he slides into you carefully, stilling when his hips hit flush against yours. you do not want careful.
“fuck me.” you groan wetly, hot breath fanning his face as your mouth instinctively fills with saliva. you’re close to drooling for him.
“beg.” he snaps, jaw tight as he battles his natural instinct to utterly ravage you. “beg me to show you that i own you.”
your legs quiver, pussy clenching around him and he cannot help but buck his hips and suppress a whine. he styles it out, tantalisingly slow as he rolls his hips, grinding against your pleasure point, your slick walls. blood rushes in your ears, your body feral with need. you can’t even tease, disobey him for the fun of it, not when he’s wound you up so delectably. your body keens for him, hums with the sparks, a live wire.
“don’t wanna be able to walk when you’re done,” you slur, beginning to ramble. “want to feel you so deep that i’m ruined. ‘m yours, lando. have me.” you plead.
pleasure shoots through him, then, rapid and unwavering. he’s unforgiving as he rails into you, immediately stoking the fire in your belly. all of his body weight is on you, sweaty skin sticking and slapping as his hipbones bruise into yours.
“is that how you want it, huh, baby?” he manages to growl, scooping up your wrists in one big paw, his other hand working down the planes and curves of your body. he finds the triangles of your bikini top, hastily tearing them down just enough so that your tits spill out. all for him. all his. “look at this perfect fucking body,” his breathe hitches, awestruck. “is it all mine?”
you cry out, nodding shamelessly as he ghosts his fingers around the swell of your nipple, switching to the other when he’s satisfied with the peak. he alternates between them, twisting and tugging, barely there and all too hard. you can only plead his name and tighten around his cock.
once he’s overstimulated your chest, he works his fingers further down your body, stopping now and then to dig into your flesh, appreciating the soft feeling of your skin under his calloused hands.
“and this hot, little cunt… is this mine, too?” lando breathes, right against the shell of your ear. his thumb presses hard against your thrumming clit, smearing your slick over the bud. “to play with? is it baby?”
“god, yes.” you manage to bellow, the strained words tearing over your vocal chords.
“yes, what?” lando snaps, slapping lightly over the bundle of nerves.
“it’s yours!” you sob, choking on your own voice.
“to…?” lando coaxes, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips as he looks at you expectantly.
“to play with.” you stutter, cheeks tinged hot with embarrassment that seeps down your neck and between your sweat-dampened bodies.
“that’s my good girl. my pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.
“‘m so close.” you breathe, writhing up the mattress, his body atop your inescapable. he toys with your clit, pinching the electrified nerves, watching how you buck your hips and leak onto the mattress. he’s covered in you, his belly glistening in the sunlight that washes over you, sealing you forever in this golden, sparkling moment.
“want me to cum all over your tummy, baby? mark you mine?” lando gasps, driving into you with one goal in mind. he has to get you there, wants to be painted in the remnants of your pleasure and hung up in every art museum in the world. if only he wasn’t so selfish, yearning to keep this stunning sight to himself for the rest of his life.
“n-no,” you pause, your jaw going slack for a moment as he circles your clit just right, grinds his hips so deep. “inside me.” you beg.
“fill me up.”
his vision blurs.
lando just about folds you in half, carnal desire surging through his veins. the hand keeping yours suspended over your head falls away, finding your navel where he applied a brutal, sweet pressure that leaves you blind and wailing. his other fingers busy themselves sinking into the meat of your thigh, dragging you backwards and forwards on his throbbing length.
your body goes limp, tears of pleasure trailing wetly down your face as your orgasm hits you, and lando can’t help but bury himself as deep as he can go. the rutting of his hips and the messy rub of his whole hand against your clit leaves you awestruck, sobbing into the air of the room. you’re covering him in waves, shivering as you grow overstimulated but you can’t help but chase the high. your violent quivers and dripping cunt make him whine, high pitched and divine, and he drops onto you, filling you up. he can’t seem to stop, painting you white from the inside out, watching the way it drips out of you, coating the base of his cock.
this can’t be over yet, he decides. he needs to hear you scream.
“lemme help you with that.” he mumbles, slinking down your body, eyes fixed solely on where you were joined together.
you don’t even get a chance to mourn the loss of him buried inside of you, no. you’re too busy pushing at his curls, pleading that he lets up, but he can’t. it’s not that he won’t, it’s that he quite simply can’t.
his tongue runs up the seam of your pussy, lapping over the mixture you’ve made and you can’t do anything but cry and thrash, white hot with pleasure and pain. its so good that it hurts, and you give in, knowing that he isn’t going to stop unless you say the magic words. lord knows, you won’t. lando knows you won’t.
it’s torturous, really, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, drags his tongue over his mess and slips it right into your entrance. he swirls and sucks and nips and tugs. it’s like he’s turned a faucet on, watching hazily as you drip and drip, more of you and him seeping onto his tongue. he’s insatiable as he licks you clean, unable to resist luring you into a third orgasm.
and when it hits, god, does it hit.
the scream he pulls from your body is deafening, makes him shake with the intensity of it, the vibrations rippling through your body and ricocheting off of his. you relax limply into the mattress, urgently needing a break. you watch through hooded eyes as he slurps anything left of you from his reddened lips, your thighs clenching unconsciously. he just chuckles, flopping down beside you.
“tired, baby?” lando teases, stroking over your rapidly rising and falling ribs.
“just a tad.” you deadpan, unable to hold back the giggles as serotonin soothes you.
“oh, sweetheart. i’m not even nearly done with you yet.” lando grins toothily, deviously.
something he said about fucking you ‘anywhere’ you wanted dawns on you and your eyes widen.
-
anywhere really did mean anywhere.
he’d had to carry you to the shower when you were finally done, holding you close under the spray. you were lost to the memory of him pushing you into the sideboard in the hallway, laying you flat across the kitchen counter, eating you like dessert on the very same sun lounger that you’d been perched on when this whole marathon commenced.
you’re utterly spent, eyelids sagging when he finally sets you down on the sofa, playing on his phone while you fall asleep watching the office.
you’re curled up in lando’s lap, legs hanging over the end of the sofa when max finds you. hair still wet from the much needed shower and fast asleep in his best friends arms. he actively chooses to quell the disgusted curl of his lips. you look so peaceful, safe. his plans to throttle lando for his earlier stint subside.
“call me a wankstain on society later, if you want, but please don’t wake her up.” lando speaks with a hushed tone, not even gracing max with eye contact, his eyes remaining on the candies he’d been crushing before the other fewtrell turned up.
“i- no, i wasn’t gonna call you that. i did, however, consider driving that very nice, very vintage lambo you hired off a cliff.” max mutters. lando scoffs a laugh.
“you would have paid for it.” he still doesn’t look up from the phone. max eyes the way lando strokes your side, in time with the crests and falls of your breath. it’s tender, intimate.
max considers that there’s a strong possibility he was wrong.
“mate, listen-“
“nope. she’s your baby sister, i get it. i get it. you can hate me for it, but you crossed a line going after her like that.” lando finally looks up at max, glowering sternly.
“i’m gonna talk to her.” max bows his head, as if he’s ashamed of himself and lando softens slightly.
“you should, mate. she wants your support, your approval means everything.” lando says. “look, i love her. i really do. and while you were accusing me of trying to ruin her life, you were crushing her.” lando sighs, his voice wavering with a hint of pain. max meets his gaze.
“for the record, i don’t think anyone will ever be good enough for my little sister, but you come pretty fucking close.” max relents, pushing his pride aside, finally. lando smiles, small and knowing.
“i just wanna make her happy.” he shrugs, a look of hopeless romance, utter devotion and pure happiness radiating off of him in waves as he gazes down at your frame. something in max’s belly snaps, the apprehension dissolving to mush. he had gotten this all wrong.
“you do.” he hums, watching how you curl further into lando as you stir in your sleep, the drivers fingers delicately combing your hair away from your face. “but,” max quips.
lando grimaces, bracing himself.
“if you ever, ever, pull something like that again,” max shivers with disgust at the insinuation. “i will remove your bollocks and make you watch me crash the miura.” max swears, pointing a finger of warning.
“seems like everyone’s come to their senses, no more… pranks from me.” lando holds his free hand up in mock surrender.
“have you two kissed and made up yet?” you murmur, stretching out in lando’s arms. you rub sleep from your eyes, sitting up and leaning into your boyfriends solid frame, resting against him as your eyes flit to your brother.
“we’re good. ‘m, uh, sorry.” max nods, attempting to be heartfelt. lando chokes on a laugh as it falls flat.
“you’re “uh, sorry”?” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest.
“i’m really sorry.” max tries again, and you grin cheekily at your brother, watching as his shoulders release the tension they’ve been carrying all afternoon. he turns to leave, halfway to the door when you call out to him.
“hey, max?”
“yeah, lovely?” your chest warms at the sweet nickname. you’d forgotten the last time he’d called you that.
“wash your sheets.” your eyes blaze with amusement and you hear lando’s sharp inhale of breath, shocked that you’d gone there.
“you didn’t- my god, you did not-“ max splutters, his face almost green with nausea.
“you’ll never know for sure.” you grin. you think he’s going to faint.
serves the bastard right.
-
hehe
lemme know what u think!! <33
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ambrosiagoldfish · 8 months ago
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I loved your Adam x 3rd spouse piece! I think you really captured his personality! I also just really like you're writing style! You did an qmzyjob and I think you'll continue make amazing pieces like this? Have a wonderful day or night and continue to rest if you can! 🥰🥰🥰
Benefit of the doubt Pt.3
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Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Viewer discretion is advised
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angsty, General Adam TW’s, Reader HIGHKEY has a complex about being loved, Reader finally talks about their issues, Lucifer and Lilith scout for new kissing partner but fails miserably/hj, Lilith will probably be OOC in the future (once Season 2 comes), Adam has abandonment issues, Adam is a puppy in private but a bitch in public, And the couch returns once again (why do all the sad things happen on this couch), This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader! (Annnnnd We popped the Y/n cherry! It’s used only once tho)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
Request box: Open
Word count: 3664
A/N: Hi!!! Thanks so much! I’m using your request as the ask for part 3 so I hope that’s ok! You all were so nice with all the love for part 1 and 2 😭😭🫶🫶 this part is also pretty long but I just couldn’t stop writing it. I wanted to do 1 more part set in the past before we jump to the angst that is the show. So I guess you could call this the penultimate part! A lot of people wanted to see Lucifer hit on Reader and try to do what he did with Lilith and Eve but with Reader. And I had quite a hard time coming up with a reason that could occur in the past but I think I figured it out.
Since Luci and Lilith would still be together at this time I’ve decided to add Lilith in as well for POLY GOALS. Also they may seem malicious but I genuinely don’t think they are (they just find Reader hot LBH) 😭😭 Also I added a few more people to the tag list!
Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily
It’s been a while since Adam first moved into your newly shared home. You weren’t sure exactly how long, it was hard to keep track of time in heaven. Days seemed to blur together. It made sense to you at least, it is heaven after.
After Adam moved in, your life was filled with so many new things to experience with him, and the same was true for him. While he may seem a bit brutish, (and at times he can be) he loved the new things you showed him, the new feelings you showed him.
You were so kind, so thoughtful and so, so patient with him. You never forced him to do something he didn’t want to do but you would still push him to explore new things, even managing to convince him to be a part of heaven's official duties. That’s why, at times like these, you knew exactly what to do.
The sound of Adam slamming the front door as he entered the house made you jump. Even from a few feet away, you could hear him mumbling curses about something as he plopped himself down on the couch. You followed quickly behind, gently laying next to him
“Hey, what’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice light and soothing. Looking at him it was obvious that something was bothering him. The gold feathers of his wings were unkempt from them flaring up, his halo was slightly crooked and his LED mask showed an almost snarled expression.
Your hand slowly caressed his wings, moving the out of place feathers back to normal. But no matter how hard you tried they would stick back out.
“It’s nothing, just some lame shitty meeting I have to go to tomorrow” he crosses his arms and looks away from you.
“Hmm? Something tells me there’s more to it than that, right?” You snuggle into his belly, rubbing it softly .
His mask pouts “Dammit’ bitch, how do you always see through me, huh?” He sighs defeatedly before continuing “You know how more people are starting to kick the bucket or whatever? Well, heaven’s worried about the surplus of sinners so they're having the aforementioned shitty meeting to come to a solution and…”
He pauses
“And?” You look at him anticipatingly
“And… He’ll be there.” Oh… So that's why he’s upset. “They’re having the meeting in their brand new “heaven embassy” down in hell.” His voice mocks
“Oh, I’m so sorry Adam, Have you tried asking Sera if you can sit this one out?”
Adam groans, putting his face in his hands “Yeah like forty fucking times but she keeps saying that it’s my “heavenly duty” and she won’t let me.”
You bring your arms around Adam’s neck pulling him in towards you. You weren’t sure what to do if you were being honest. There’s nothing you can do really, if even Sera won’t let him miss it. Hmm…
“Adam, I know it’s gonna suck but if you can’t get out of it, then that’s that.” Adam looks at you a little confused “but I can go with you, I’m sure Sera wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the discussion.”
“What! Hell no!” He shouted as he sat up from the couch, shaking his head defiantly.
You look at him confused, “Why?”
“That’ll only make the whole thing fucking worse! If it’s just me, I don’t have to worry that he’ll get anywhere near you!” Adam’s mask turns into a slight grimace as he attempts to keep his eyes off you.
You make your way to him, the sound of your footsteps falling off as you stop in front of him. You grab his hand as the other one moves up to his face, cupping it.
“Adam…” you rubbed circles on his hand as you continued “We’re partners. You haven’t forgotten my promise right?” You play with the golden ring on his finger.
Adam groans “No, I haven’t… sigh Shit- Fine! But… just stay by me, alright?” Your face lights up before your arms wrap around his shoulders joining you both in an embrace
“Of course,” you rub his wings gently before you grasp his hands in yours, leading him by them. “Come on, you must be tired right? It’s getting late. Couch or bed?”
“Couch. I’m way not in the mood to make a bed right now.” You laugh at his comment as you pull him to lay on the couch with you. His soft, warm body pushes up against you as you both slowly drift off to sleep for the day ahead.
-
A not-too familiar sight laid before you, the pearly gates of heaven, guarded by the one and only Saint Peter. There was no real reason for you to ever come here. You never had the chance to die, which is when most, if not all Winners see it for the first time. No one’s allowed to leave heaven unless given permission by a higher up and on top of all that, you weren’t really that enticed to leave the oh-so perfect afterlife, so there had never been a reason to see these golden gates.
But now, here you were standing behind them with some other angels. You didn’t know most of them, the only ones you recognized were Sera and Adam. As expected, it was pretty easy to convince Sera to let Adam take you along. They even prepared an extra wide seat for both of you to share. How generous!
Ever since you woke up this morning, Adam had been… Nervous? Scared? The right word doesn’t really matter but he’s been sweating buckets and was clearly more agitated than normal. His feathers were once again unkempt and you tried your best to keep them in order but he always seemed to get them messy.
Eventually, right on schedule, a flaming portal opened in front of the group. Sera was the first to enter, then followed by the others. Finally it was just you and Adam but as you take a step towards the portal, Adam stops you
“What is it?” You look up at him.
“Just… stay by me, ok?” Adam’s voiced was softer than normal, a way he only did when you two were alone
Nodding your head with a smile, your hand comes down and interlocks his. One of his bright golden wings veils itself around you, bringing you closer to him. You snuggle into him slightly before you both step into the portal.
You didn’t know what to expect when you stepped through the portal but a sight that was almost like home awaited you. The familiar gold that heaven was so fond of was everywhere in the building, accents of white and orange were also present. All and all, it was a familiar sight in a not-so familiar place.
But there was definitely something that wasn’t familiar in that place. Sitting in a chair at the end of the room was him, Lucifer Morningstar. The aura he had definitely made him seem angelic but there was clearly something about him that separated himself from divinity. Though you do have to admit that he was much shorter than you anticipated.
There was something that surprised you however, to his left sat a tall woman with long blond hair and horns. It took you a second to put 2&2 together but when you heard Adam mutter “Shit…” you knew immediately it was Lilith. And from Adam’s reaction even he wasn’t expecting her to be there.
You squeeze his hand gently as comfort, giving him a smile before you both walk to your seat. Your body is pushed closer to him as his wing wraps tighter around you. Looks like there’s no calming him down.
Finally the meeting starts, Sera begins by explaining the issue of the fast growing population in hell, leading to groups trying to form uprisings against heaven. To be honest you didn’t really understand it too well, just a lot of business-y sounding words that weren't really your forte. So you just stayed quiet.
From what you could tell, the meeting was going… well? They haven’t been able to agree on a proper decision even with Sera leading the conversation. Adam though, was being eerily quiet. You don't even think he’s said a word since you both got there. Sera seemed to notice this.
“Adam, want to share any ideas?” Sera spoke in an encouraging tone slightly gesturing to him. This seemed to catch Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. Maybe they didn’t recognize Adam because of the mask?
Adam was caught off guard but still talked “Oh uh… Man, I don’t know, can’t we just fucking kill them?” Both you and Sera looked over in surprise, “What? That would solve the problem wouldn't it? “ He shrugged
Sera sighed “Ok, how about we take a short recess to clear our minds to let in new ideas. We’ll resume the meeting in 30 minutes”
With that, everyone went their separate ways for the time being, you and Adam were the first to leave the board room, he practically was pulling you along and you could tell he wanted out of there. You both ended up in the lobby, neither of you saying a word.
The silence was so very loud. The only sound was yours and Adam’s breathing. Adam’s hand was still firmly tied to yours, not even the slightest hint of letting go. You rubbed your thumb in circles over his hand when a voice echoed through the air
“Adam, may I have a word?” Sera’s voice echoed lightly through the lobby. She gestured to a door next to her. You both made your way over to her and was about to go in when Sera put her hand in front of Adam stopping him
“What the hell Sera?!”
“Alone, please.”
Adam’s LED eyes widened his mouth slightly agape. He looked down with a scowl before turning his face to you. Your free hand going up to his mask, caressing it.
“Go talk with Sera,”
“But-“
“Shh, I’ll be fine,” You give him a kiss on the cheek, the cold of the metallic mask reaching your lips, “I’ll just be in the lobby, I won’t go anywhere till you get back. Ok?” Adam didn’t look at you, clearly avoiding eye contact, you grab his chin lightly and gently turn him to look at you,
“Ok?”
Adam’s mouth formed a frown and he groaned “Fuck- fine, ok…” You gave him a smile as Sera walked into the room, you felt his grip loosen and loosen, until finally his soft hand left yours as he walked into the room. He gave one final look back before closing the room's door.
Silence filled the air once again. It wasn’t like it was with Adam, that comfortable silence that you shared ever so often. This one laid in the air, thick and heavy, threatening to suffocate you at any given moment. You sat on one of the many yellow and white sofas in the lobby.
You tried your best to ignore it. Paying attention to less important details about the scenery around you. The weird zigzagging pattern of the carpet of the floor, the intricate designs on the doors, the huge windows. Heaven sure had a unique taste in interior design.
You tried so hard to ignore the silence that you eventually ignored the sound that broke said silence. Footsteps began echoing through the lobby approaching you. You didn’t realize someone was next to you until you heard a voice say.
“Ahem Hello!” A male voice startled you as it chimed in with a sickening sweet tone. You look towards the direction of the voice only to be greeted by the king of hell himself, Lucifer. You jumped back to the other side of the sofa in shock.
“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Lucifer, But judging on your reaction, I guess you already knew that. I’ve never seen you before so you must be relatively new, right?”
You nodded your head sheepishly to answer his question. You honestly didn’t know what else to do, what could you do? You slowly picked yourself up from the sofa.
“I’m sorry but I have to go-“ you turn to leave only to bump into a tall woman. You must have been so surprised by Lucifer that you completely missed Lilith coming up behind you.
“But we haven’t even learned your name yet, Dear.” The woman’s voice sounded both somber but also welcoming, it was quite frightening how much it could calm your nerves if you kept listening to it. “How about we talk? No harm in it, right?”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Darling!” Lucifer came up from behind you, a sharp smile on his face. “Come on, sit and chat!”
Crap… they had you cornered. You had no telling what they’d do if you set them off, you wanted the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for Adam. A few minutes to indulge them. that’s it.
You bit your lip but sighed “Ok… but just a few minutes”
“Great!” Lilith took your shoulders moving you to sit down beside her as Lucifer sat on the other side, sandwiching you between them. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your name?”
You hesitated for a moment but decided it was better to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.
“Y/n”
“That’s a very beautiful name,” Lucifer spoke, his tone trying to make him sound almost charming, almost. “So, if you don’t mind us asking, who are you to… Adam?” He gestured over to the door Sera and Adam went through earlier.
“I’m his spouse.” This time you answered with complete confidence, not even a shred of hesitation in your voice.
“Ah!” Lucifer nodded his head in understanding. “How’s that going?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I for one know how much of a hassle that man-child is,” Lilith laughs, covering her mouth slightly “I asked around, is it true he hasn’t taken that ridiculous mask off since he got it, hmm? Has he even shown you his real face yet?”
“No but-“
“He can be so… tiresome at times, don’t you agree?”
“No. I don’t. Adam is the best thing to ever happen to me-“
“Exactly.” Lucifer interrupted you as your eyes furrowed “You don’t have anything else to compare it to. Of course you’d see trash like the “first man” as the best thing ever.”
Trash. That word really set you off, at least it would have, if it wasn’t for the next sentence .
“But hey! It’s fine! Eve was the same way! You too are honestly very alike, let me tell you-“
Thousands upon thousands of thin threads binding you up. That’s what this conversation felt like. Each annoyance was just a new thread getting tighter and tighter as they were pulled taut, threatening to simply slice through your body, your soul. But they didn’t, instead they kept stretching past their limits until finally those words came.
Like… Eve. It felt like each of those tightly pulled threads were all cut at once with those words. Any and all tension suddenly seemed to disappear. A strange sensation of losing any care about your situation.
You know what? To hell with the meeting! You quickly stood up from the sofa causing them both to jump slightly. You turned toward them, your voice was louder than you thought was possible for you. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you felt so… Angry.
“I am nothing like Eve. And I’m especially nothing like either of you.” You had enough, it was untelling what would happen if you stayed. You started walking toward the room Adam was in when Lucifer grabbed your arm
“Wait! That’s not what I meant-“
“Don’t touch me, snake” you stared daggers at him before quickly grabbing his hand and shoving it off.
“We’re sorry if we upset you Dear, but that’s no way to talk to someone” Lilith walks up to you, putting an arm in front of Lucifer in a protective stance.
You walk up to the tall woman, she was at least two heads taller than you but still, you barred your teeth before speaking “Oh! You really think I care about what the first whore thinks of me, Huh?” Your voice dripped with poison from every word.
Even Lilith seemed caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor as her face turned into a scowl. Red horns protruded through Lucifer’s head, his eyes turning red with anger. You turn your attention back to him.
“What are you gonna do?” Lucifer’s gaze slightly softened with hesitation “Exactly, nothing. Less’ you want to dig yourself deeper into this cyst pool you’ve created for yourself and end up on even worse terms with heaven.”
Without even sparing them a glance, you try to make it to the room, only to be greeted by Adam and Sera standing by the door. How long were they standing there? You must have not heard them over your screaming..
“What the fuck are you assholes doing to them? ” You rush over and grab him by the hand, the action startling him “Babe, what happened-“
“Nothing. Sera. Open a portal back home.”
“But-“
“Sera!” Your voice was gritty and rough “open a portal. Now... Please…” your voice cracked at the end
Sera had never seen you show so much anger before, but here you were, your entire gaze filled with nothing but pure unadulterated wrath.Threatening to burn anyone who got in your way. Whatever happened clearly set you off like nothing else before.
Sera nods her head “Understood”
“Thank you…”
A familiar flaming portal opened up, you quickly made your way through it with Adam following suit. The portal ended up right inside your home, closing as you both were fully through. You honestly didn’t know where you were going but eventually your body couldn’t go any further than the couch
Feeling the soft couch beneath you made your aching muscles feel like they were melting away, and only then did you realize that you were crying.
Adam crawled next to you, hugging close to you. “What the happened out there, Babe?”
You felt your body slowly break down, as more tears left you then you had cried your entire existence. Adam hugged you tighter, his wings coming over you like a blanket.
“H-How much did you see?” Your voice was shaky as you sniffed slightly.
“Not a lot, just some shit towards the end,what did those bastards say to you?”
You cleared your throat slightly. “I only talked to them because I didn’t want them to get upset and ruin the meeting and make your day even worse than it already was”
Adam’s LED mask shifted into a small sad frown “Sweetheart, you never have to talk to any motherfuckers you don’t want to, let alone for me. “
You smile but look away “it wasn’t… it wasn’t…” you tried to get the words out but couldn’t. You took a deep breath before trying one more time,”It wasn’t the only thing that set me off.” Adam looks at you curious
“They said that I reminded them of… Eve, and it just made me so… angry. I was created for you, to love you-“ your tears start swelling back up as you spoke “I want to be so much better than Eve, than Lilith for you. And then she pointed out how I’ve never seen Your face, which I’ve always been fine with, but at that moment, I started to think ‘what if they’re right?’ What if the reason you don’t want me to see you is because I also remind you of Eve”
You choked back tears “So to be compared to her when I’ve tried so hard… if I’m not better than her for you, then what is even the point of me! I was created to make you happy, if I can’t do that better than someone who hurt you so bad then I’m just useless-“
Soft lips met yours, cutting you off. This felt different than what you normally got on the cheek. It was warm compared to the cold metallic feel you’ve felt previously. Your eyes opened slightly looking at Adam’s LED mask… or what you thought was going to be a mask. He had pulled his mask off while you were crying.
You pulled back from the kiss “Adam your mask!” Adam just kisses back again
“That fucking thing doesn’t matter right now.” He paused “You're not useless and will never be useless to me. Fuck- I love you because I love you! Not because you were created for me or some stupid shit like that! You make me so fucking happy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just some object that was made to make me feel better, because you aren’t.”
“Adam…” to think tears could roll down your face this harder than before “I love you so much Adam” you cry into his soft chest.
Adam kisses you again “I love you too Sweetcheeks.” Adam paused before clearing his throat “So umm… how do I look? I hope I didn't disappoint you…”
You look up at his newly unveiled face, just as you had been told, short brown hair, golden eyes, and a little bit of stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was completely ordinary. So ordinarily perfect.
“Perfect. So so perfect. What’d I do to end up with such a handsome husband, hmm?”
“Oh stop, now you’re just being fucking cheesy” he laughs, he would never admit it but his eyes were a little watery just from hearing you say that.
“It’s true though” you lean in and wrap your arms around him, killing you both with a deep kiss.
Truly ordinary. You couldn’t be happier
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stylesispunk · 6 months ago
Text
"You're the loss of my life"
outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader
part 2 here
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summary: you and Joel went from one kiss to getting married to becoming strangers.
w.c: 5k>
Warnings: angst, implications of cheating, mentions miscarriage. Perhaps some grammar mistakes because no proofreading oops!
a/n: I know everything I write is angst but is what it fits in my mind right now. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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The day you killed yourself, you woke up. The salty tears streamed down to your ears. There was a pity gaze you didn't want to meet, looking down at you, perhaps asking why. 
You didn't want to talk, even less to answer the pitiful comments from people who thought they had a say on all this.
You remember the fall. You remember Joel running to Sophie to save her life instead of yours, instead of both. You and the baby who was inside you. The one who wasn't there anymore because of its tiny form didn't resist the impact of your fall.
What a tragedy.
Sadness overcame you in the aftermath. In a world like this, treating your wounded body wasn't as hard as treating your heart, which became a frozen glass shell.
The days that followed were a blur, each moment blending into the next, a never-ending cycle of grief and numbness. You avoided mirrors, hating the reflection of a person you no longer recognized. The hollow eyes, the lifeless expression—they belonged to a ghost, not to you.
Joel tried to talk to you, his words a constant hum in the background. "I'm sorry," he'd say. "I didn't know what to do." But his apologies were meaningless, lost in the chasm that had formed between you. He perhaps saved Sophie because he loved her more, because in that split second, she was the one who mattered.
Not you anymore.
You spent hours in the nursery, the room you had so carefully prepared. The crib, the tiny clothes, the stuffed animals—all mocking reminders of what could have been. Your hands would linger on the soft blankets, tears falling silently onto the fabric. It was in that room that you felt the closest to the baby you had lost—a place where the field of dreams you had died.
One night, as you sat in the dark, the pain was too much to bear, and you decided you couldn't go on. The world was too cruel, too indifferent to people's suffering. You wrote a letter, your final words, to those who might wonder why. It was brief—just a few sentences explaining the unbearable weight of your grief and the unending ache in your heart. Meeting your family and beloved ones in heaven sounded better than keeping yourself prisoner in a world that would never be a safe place for anyone.
You took the pills, each one a step closer to peace. As you drifted off, you felt a strange sense of calm, a release from the torment that had consumed you. You hoped that in death, you would find the solace that eluded you in life.
But then you woke up again. The salty tears streamed down to your ears. There was a pity gaze you didn't want to meet, looking down at you, perhaps asking why.
Waking up again felt like a cruel joke. You were back in the same world, with the same pain. But something was different. Joel was there, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He took your hand, his touch hesitant and afraid.
"I thought I lost you," he whispered, his voice breaking.
You turned away, unable to meet his gaze. The wound was still too fresh, and the betrayal was still too raw to face them.
Joel's gaze burned in your back, and the smell of death was in the room. You held your breath for a moment. You wanted to smell the flowers and the baby smell of the little head of your baby, which you would never get to meet.
"Why?" he questioned, and for the first time, his voice did soothe your wounds; instead, it caused your blood to boil inside you and irritated you.
"I want Ellie here, not you."
"Baby- “
"Go." Your voice could slice Joel’s skin.
He recoiled as if struck, his face crumpling with pain. He stood there for a moment, looking lost and broken. "Please, don't push me away," he pleaded, but you couldn't hear him through the rage and grief that consumed you.
"Leave," you repeated, your voice cold and final.
Joel's shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind him. The silence that followed was suffocating, a void that threatened to swallow you whole. You curled into a ball, the tears flowing freely now—a torrent of pain and loss.
“Go to Sophie,” you whispered to the void, allowing yourself to cry.
Time seemed to stand still in that moment; your sobs were the only sound in the quiet room. You didn't know how long you lay there, but eventually, you heard a soft knock on the door.
Ellie's voice was hesitant when she called out your name, filled with a mix of anger and concern. "Can I come in?"
You didn't answer, but she opened the door anyway, slipping inside and closing it behind her. She looked at you, her expression torn between fury and sadness.
"Why did you do it?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "Why did you try to leave me too?"
You looked up at her, seeing the pain in her eyes and mirroring your own. "I... I didn't think I could handle it anymore," you admitted, your voice breaking. "I lost everything, Ellie. I lost you, I lost Joel, and I lost the baby. I didn't know how to go on."
Ellie walked over to you, her steps hesitant. "You didn't lose me. I'm still here," she said, her voice softening. "But you almost did. And I'm so mad at Joel. He should have saved you both. He should have done more."
“Do you think Joel doesn’t love me anymore?” you sobbed.  The pain in your voice broke Ellie’s heart.
She kneeled beside you, taking your hands in hers. "I don’t know what’s on his mind now," she admitted, her voice trembling. "But I do know he loves you. He's just... broken too. We're all broken."
You pulled her into a tight embrace, both of you crying together, sharing the weight of your grief. “I lost my baby because of him.”
Ellie held you tighter, her own tears mingling with yours. "Cry,” she said softly. "Blaming him won't bring the baby back. It won't help us heal. We have to find a way to forgive and move forward."
The two of you stayed like that for a long time, finding strange solace in each other’s arms. The pain was still there, raw and overwhelming.
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You were standing in the small kitchen of your home in Jackson, the dilapidated walls a far cry from the security of the life you once knew. But for a moment, you allowed yourself to dream of something better. Your hands trembled slightly as you held the small, worn piece of paper—a positive pregnancy test, a symbol of new life in a world consumed by death.
Joel walked in, weary from a long day of patrol. His eyes lit up when he saw you, but they quickly clouded with concern as he noticed the look on your face.
"What's going on?" he asked, setting down his backpack and walking over to you.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Joel, I have something to tell you,” you began, your voice shaking. "I'm pregnant."
For a moment, there was silence. Joel's expression shifted from confusion to shock, and then to something darker—fear and maybe even anger.
"Pregnant?" he repeated, his voice rising slightly. "In this world? How could you be so irresponsible?"
The words hit you like a physical blow, your earlier excitement and hope crumbling into dust. "Irresponsible?" you echoed, your own voice rising defensively. "It takes two people to do this, you know.”
He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "You know what it’s like out there! Every day is a fight for survival. We can barely keep ourselves alive, and now you want to bring a baby into this?”
“I know this is not the best way, but what do you want me to do?” 
“You know what.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought them back, unwilling to show weakness at his suggestion. "I know it's dangerous, Joel. But it's also a chance for us to have a future. To have a reason to keep going."
Joel's face softened for a moment, but then the hard lines returned. "And what if we can't protect it? What if we lose it? Bringing a baby into this world... it's a death sentence."
You turned away, unable to look at him. "I thought you'd be happy," you whispered, the tears finally spilling over. "I thought this would be something good for us."
He reached out, but you stepped back, the distance between you growing. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now, but the damage was done. "I just... I can't see how this can work."
You clutched the pregnancy test to your chest, tainted by doubt and fear. “Are you mad because of the baby, or what would Sophie think of this?" you questioned quietly.
Joel's expression faltered, and he looked away, unable to meet your gaze. The mention of Sophie seemed to strike a chord, bringing a new layer of tension to the room.
"Sophie has nothing to do with this," he muttered, but the words lacked conviction.
"Doesn't she?" You pressed, your voice rising. "She's always in the back of your mind, Joel. Every decision you make, every risk you take, it's always about protecting her."
"She's my partner in patrol,” he shot back, his voice growing louder. "I’m just as protective as I am with everyone here! I can't fail her, or you. But this world... it's no place for a child."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I know you're scared, Joel. So am I. But we can't live our lives in fear. This baby is a chance for us to have something real, something good. Don't you see that?"
Joel's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "I do see it," he admitted quietly. "But it doesn't change the reality we live in. I just... I don't know if I can take that risk."
The room fell silent, the tension hanging thick in the air. You turned away from him, your heart heavy with a mixture of hope and despair. "I'm going to do everything I can to protect this baby," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. "With or without you."
Joel looked at you, pain and conflict warring in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it, shaking his head. He turned and walked out, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen, your heart breaking as the small symbol of hope in your hand seemed to grow heavier by the second.
The “I do” and vows seemed so foreign in the back of your mind now.
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A week had passed since your almost-death. The days were a blur of grief and small steps toward recovery. Ellie remained close; her presence was a constant reminder that there was still something worth fighting for. In your head, you felt guilt and pity, not strong enough to keep believing you were the same woman who arrived here. You were the gosh of a lively fighter who became a lifeless frame.
Maria approached you in the cafeteria, where you were trying to busy yourself. She had always been a pillar of strength in Jackson and a calming presence for you since the day you, Joel, and Ellie arrived.
"Hey," she said softly, her voice gentle. "How are you holding up?"
You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down. Maria sighed, pulling up a chair beside you. "I know it's hard. But you need to take things slow. You can't rush healing."
You nodded, though her words felt distant. The weight of your grief was a constant presence, making everything seem surreal. "I just... I don't know how to keep going. I don’t know how to do this again," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as Sarah’s lifeless frame came to your mind.
You had lost another child.
Maria reached out, squeezing your hand. "One day at a time," she said. "And remember, it's okay to lean on others. You don't have to do this alone."
You wanted to believe her, but the pain was too fresh and overwhelming. As the days turned into a week, you forced yourself to go through the motions, trying to find some semblance of normalcy. One afternoon, you found yourself in the cafeteria of Jackson. The noise and bustle were a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you.
Maria was there, talking to a few people, and she caught your eye, giving you an encouraging smile. You tried to smile back, but it felt forced. The weight of your loss was a constant shadow, making everything seem heavier.
As you moved through the line, Maria came over, her expression concerned. "Hey, remember what I said. Take it slow. You don't have to do everything at once."
Something inside you snapped. The pressure, the grief, the guilt—it all came crashing down. "Take it slow?" you repeated, your voice rising. "How am I supposed to take it slow when everything is falling apart? How am I supposed to keep going when I not only lost my baby but also my husband?!”
The cafeteria fell silent, all eyes turning towards you. You could feel the weight of their stares, the shock, and the pity. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as the enormity of your outburst sank in.
Maria reached out, but you recoiled, your emotions spiraling out of control. "I don't need to take it slow!" you shouted, tears streaming down your face. "I need... I need..." You didn't even know what you needed; the pain was too overwhelming to articulate.
Joel was there in an instant, his face etched with worry. "Hey, hey," he said softly, reaching out to you. "It's okay. You're okay."
But you weren't okay. You felt like you were drowning, the weight of your grief pulling you under. You shook your head, backing away from him. "Don't touch me for fuck's sake! I don't want your dirty hands on me!”
Joel’s eyes glazed, but you didn’t care. He had become the best of the man you had married ten years ago.
Joel's eyes glazed, but you didn’t care. He had become the ghost of the man you had married ten years ago.
He froze, the words hitting him like a physical blow. The cafeteria's silence deepened, the tension thickening. You saw the pain in his eyes, a reflection of your own turmoil, but it did nothing to quell the anger and sorrow boiling inside you.
"I can't do this," you said, your voice breaking as you took a step back, your chest heaving with sobs. "I can't keep pretending that everything is going to be okay. Because it's not! Nothing is okay!"
Ellie pushed through the crowd, her face pale but determined. "Mom," she said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "We're here. We're all here. We'll get through this."
Joel looked helplessly at Ellie, then back at you. "Please," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Just let us help."
You looked at him, the man who had once been your rock, now just a shadow of the person you had relied on. The anger still simmered beneath the surface, but Ellie’s presence brought a flicker of something else—a reminder of why you needed to keep fighting.
Ellie wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as you sobbed into her shoulder. The room remained silent; the weight of your grief was palpable. But in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope—a reminder that you weren’t alone and that you had people who loved you and who were willing to help you carry the burden.
Joel stepped closer, his hand hovering uncertainly at your back, not daring to touch you without permission. "I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "For everything. I’m so, so sorry."
You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. "You killed him," you snapped, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I can’t forgive you.”
Joel's face crumpled, the weight of your words hitting him like a physical blow. He took a step back, his hand dropping to his side. The silence in the room grew heavier, and the tension was palpable.
"I know," he said, his voice barely audible. "I know I can never undo what I've done. I live with that guilt every day."
Your anger burned hot and fierce, like a wildfire consuming everything in its path. "You killed him," you repeated, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "And you expect me to just forgive you? To move on like nothing happened?"
Joel shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow. "No," he said softly. "I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't even know if I can forgive myself. But I want to try. I want to make things right as much as I can."
You looked at him, the man who had once been your partner, your confidant, now a stranger in the wreckage of your shattered life. The anger still burned hot within you, but beneath it, there was a flicker of something else—pain, sorrow, and a desperate longing for the life you had lost.
"I don't know if I can do this," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't know if I have the strength to forgive you."
Ellie's arms remained wrapped around you, a comforting presence amidst the turmoil. She gently guided you away from the cafeteria, her touch reassuring as you stumbled through the hallways of Jackson. The weight of your grief felt heavier with each step, but Ellie's presence gave you a glimmer of strength.
As you reached the door, Ellie helped you inside, guiding you to the small couch in the living area. She sat beside you, her eyes filled with concern.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice filled with worry.
You shook your head, the tears still streaming down your face. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice hoarse. "I just... I don't know how to deal with all of this."
Ellie reached out, taking your hand in hers. "We'll figure it out together," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I promise."
You squeezed her hand tightly, grateful for her unwavering support. "Thank you, Ellie," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.
She leaned in, wrapping you in a tight hug. "I love you, Mom," she said softly. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."
Tears pricked at your eyes as you hugged her back, her words echoing in your mind. "I love you too, Ellie," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.
As you and Ellie held each other close, the weight of her love and support was a balm to your wounded soul. But amidst the embrace, a knock on the door interrupted the moment, causing both of you to startle.
Ellie pulled back slightly, her eyes searching yours with concern. "Should I... Should I get that?" she asked, her voice hesitant.
You shook your head, wiping away your tears as you tried to compose yourself. "No, it's okay," you said, your voice still shaky. "I'll go."
Ellie nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before standing up from the couch. "I'll be in my room if you need me," she said softly, giving you a lingering look before leaving the living area.
As Ellie disappeared down the hallway, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. With trembling hands, you made your way to the door and opened it, revealing Joel standing on the other side.
His expression was a mix of worry and remorse as he looked at you, his eyes filled with a silent plea for forgiveness. "Can we talk?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You hesitated, the memories of your outburst in the cafeteria still fresh in your mind. But despite the anger and pain, there was a part of you that longed for closure, for a chance to understand.
"Okay," you said finally, stepping aside to let him in.
Joel entered the house, his footsteps hesitant as he crossed the threshold. The living room felt suffocatingly small as you both stood there, the weight of your shared grief hanging heavy in the air.
"I... I don't even know where to start," Joel said, his voice strained with emotion.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "I just... I need to understand," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I need to know why you did what you did."
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The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the abandoned streets of the city. You and Joel had been scavenging for supplies, your footsteps echoing in the eerie silence that seemed to permeate every corner of the world.
You had felt uneasy all day, a knot of jealousy and insecurity twisting in your stomach at the sight of Sophie, her laughter ringing in your ears like a taunt.
You had implored Joel to come. You just wanted to feel as worthy and important to him as you used to, even in your state. But despite your misgivings, you had pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand, determined to prove yourself capable and worthy of Joel's love and attention.
And then it happened.
If Joel had been more careful, he wouldn’t have allowed you to come. But he didn’t want to make you feel worthless.
A horde of infected had descended upon you, their snarls and growls a chilling symphony of death and despair. You had frozen; your mind was unable to comprehend the danger until it was too late.
But Joel had acted, his movements swift and sure as he pulled you away from the oncoming onslaught, his grip firm and unyielding.
And then he had seen her.
Sophie was trapped beneath the rubble, her screams echoing in the chaos as the infected closed in, their hunger insatiable.
And in that moment, something inside Joel shifted.
He had hesitated, torn between saving you and saving her, his eyes flickering with indecision, before he made his choice.
He had chosen Sophie.
He jumped off the horse, leaving you alone. You had watched in horror as he raced towards her, leaving you behind, your heart shattering into a million jagged pieces as the truth of his betrayal washed over you like a tidal wave.
You had screamed, your voice lost in the cacophony of the chaos, your tears mingling with the blood and dust that coated your skin.
And then the world went dark.
You fell from the horse, hitting the cobblestones hard. The pain was sharp and intense, searing through your body like a white-hot flame. You could hear the distant sound of screams and growls, the world around you spinning in a haze of confusion and agony.
Through the haze, you could dimly make out Joel's voice, calling out your name in desperation. But his words felt distant, a mere echo in the darkness that threatened to consume you.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the chaos subsided, leaving behind a heavy silence that pressed down on you like a weight. You tried to move, to call out, but your body felt numb and unresponsive. Your world went black.
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"I need to know why, Joel," you repeated, your voice trembling with emotion. "Why did you choose her over us? Why did you leave me behind?"
Tears welled up in your eyes as you waited for his answer, the weight of his betrayal still fresh in your mind, a wound that refused to heal.
Joel's gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his guilt. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I panicked. I made a mistake."
Anger surged within you at his words, a fiery rage that threatened to consume you. "A mistake?" you repeated, your voice rising with indignation. "You left me to die, Joel. You left our child to die. How could you call that a mistake?"
Joel flinched at your words, the pain in his eyes mirroring your own. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so, so sorry. You were my wife; I should.”
"Were you my wife?” You sobbed, “Since when is that in the past, Joel?”
Joel's words hung in the air like a heavy weight, his admission of guilt and regret piercing through the veil of anger and pain that enveloped you. But amidst the turmoil, there was a flicker of something else—a longing for understanding, for closure, for a chance to heal.
"You are my wife," Joel repeated clearly, his voice trembling with emotion. "I should have protected you. I should have been there for you. But I failed. I failed both of you."
His words stirred something deep within you—a wellspring of grief and longing that threatened to overwhelm you. "And now?" you whispered, your voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "What am I to you, Joel?"
Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow. Not uttering a word.
“Do you have feelings for Sophie?” You asked, fear creeping to your bones, not wanting to hear the answer.
Joel's silence spoke volumes; his hesitation was a weighty presence in the air between you. You held your breath, afraid of what his answer might be and of the truth that lay hidden in the depths of his gaze.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Joel spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his words heavy with uncertainty. "
“You love her,” you stated. “That’s why you chose her.”
Joel's silence in response to your accusation only confirmed your worst fears, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and a heavy ache in your chest. The truth hung in the air, stark and undeniable, like a shadow cast by the setting sun.
Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to process the betrayal, the pain of Joel's admission cutting through you like a knife. The realization that he might love Sophie and might have chosen her over you and your unborn child was a blow that threatened to shatter you completely.
"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice barely more than a broken plea. "I can't stay here, knowing... knowing that I'll never be enough for you. Living in a world like this is already hell, but you made it even worse. You made me feel disgusted by myself, worthless, and ashamed," you shouted. "You're a fucking coward."
Joel flinched at your words, the truth of your accusations cutting through him like a knife. For a moment, it seemed as though he might speak, might try to defend himself, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.
"Hate me; I'll wait. Until you forgive," he finally said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to find the words to express the depth of your pain. "Forgive you?" you chuckled bitterly. "I won't."
There are two types of grievances. The one who met the spirits in death and the one who met with the ghosts of someone who should have died in front of you. You still couldn't comprehend which one was worse. Both were painful, and both watered your eyes. But having the ghost of someone who brought you warm, freezing your aura while slipping from your grasp, leaving you crying to yourself till your head tired up and there wasn't anything left that fell into the voiceless world of sleeping, where in your dreams, you were still the same woman in the white dress, marrying the love of your life.
"I needed my husband! I need him now! And the worst thing is, I still need you, but you're just a fucking phantom."
"I'm still here," he exclaimed.
"No, you're not.".
"It wasn't even born!" Joel said.
The silence met souls leaving the lovers's bodies.
You were left speechless, tears ricocheting. Your heart was clenched in pain, and your throat felt like it was being torn apart by a monster.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"Save it," you spat. You were exhausted, and your heart hurt so much that you couldn't even feel it beating anymore. "Sorry if grieving my baby was such a burden to you."
As you turned back to face Joel, the weight of your words hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the gaping chasm of loss that lay between you.
"Let me remind you of something, Joel," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Losing Sarah was the worst thing that happened to us, and just imagine how it is for me to know I carried her and this baby just to lose them both."
Joel's expression softened, a flicker of remorse crossing his features as he looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I know," he said softly, his voice heavy with sorrow.
"I'll move out," Joel said suddenly, his voice tinged with resignation. "So you can bring your new lover here and make all the babies you want."
His words cut through you like a knife, a painful reminder of the irreparable rift that had formed between you. "You know what really broke me?" you sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. "You... you're the biggest loss of my life, but as much as I love you, I despise you the same. You're the loss of my life I will be yours. There's no way back from this, Joel."
As the weight of your words hung heavy in the air, you reached for the wedding band adorning your finger, a symbol of a love that had once been unbreakable but now lay shattered at your feet.
With trembling hands, you removed the ring, feeling its weight in your palm as you stared at it, the memories of happier times flashing before your eyes like a cruel mockery of the present.
Without a second thought, you flung the ring towards Joel, watching as it spun through the air before landing at his feet with a soft thud.
"There," you said, your voice choked with emotion. "Take it. Take everything that remains of us."
Joel looked down at the ring, his expression unreadable as he reached out to pick it up and his fingers trembling as he held it in his palm.
"I don't want this," he whispered, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.
But you shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you stared at him, the pain of his betrayal a raw wound that refused to heal. "I don't want it either," you said, your voice barely more than a broken whisper. "But it's all we have left."
And with that, you turned away, unable to bear the weight of his presence any longer. The wounds he had inflicted upon you ran deep, a festering wound that refused to heal.
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lex-the-flex · 5 months ago
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Come Back to Me
Jacaerys Velaryon x reader
Warning(s): Basically porn with little plot. MEGA FLUFF, MEGA ANGST, MAJOR SADNESS + talks of character death, SMUT – 18+ oral (f! receiving), and precious aftercare + pillow talk.
A/N: No thoughts, just grieving smut with Jace. This CHOKEHOLD this character has on me and we’re only one episode into Season 2. I don’t know if I’ll continue to write for Jace, just wanted to share this idea.
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He couldn't breathe no matter how hard he tried. The air just refused to enter and fill his lungs as the overwhelming scents of salt and snow continue to remain in his crimson cloak. 
You somehow manage to take away all the pain and sadness of grief just by standing beside him. Joining Jacaerys Velaryon on the balcony of your shared room, he just can’t wrap his mind around a calm state amidst the chaos. Briefly touching his shoulder, a long awaited sigh of relief escapes his lips.
“You okay?” You ask. 
“I’m fine.” He lies, turning to face you. 
Leaning his forehead against your own, the overpowering scent of sea salt and the faint smell of lilies lingers on your skin. 
Wrapping his arms around your frame, Jace holds you tight, never wanting to let go. Relishing in your presence, an unwelcome wave of emotions crosses over Jace. Something wild, yet filled with sadness takes over him almost instantly. However, instead of shedding tears, he acts on the other side of what he’s feeling. Jace slowly guides his lips against your earlobe, nipping at the sensitive skin.
“You truly are my guiding light in this world, Y/N. You are the one that I was thinking about when I was riding Bermax home. To have my lips on yours and my thoughts at the door while being lost in you. I want to fuck you until you scream so the whole Palace can hear. To let them know you’re mine.” Jace explains, pulling you closer.
Feeling your breath hitching in the back of your throat, Jace nibbles on your neck, and you surround your arms around his broad shoulders. Picking you up in a swift motion, Jace captures his lips on yours before walking back into the dark room.
Collapsing with the large desk, Jace gently sits you down, his dark brown orbs staring into your own, eager with lust.
“Enlighten me, my Prince. Let me know what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours.” You say, gasping as Jace unties the sash of your trousers.
Smirking in delight, Jace carefully undos the straps of your heels, and slides your trousers down your legs. Basking in your body, his once boyish eyes light up with a devilish intent.
“By the Gods… so sweet for me.” He states.
Running a series of hungry kisses along your legs, you uncontrollably shiver at the sensation. Gripping your hips in his fingers, Jace teases yours throbbing folds with his tongue, knowing how to get you numb.
“That’s my girl.” Jace whispers into your skin.
Closing his mouth around your entrance, Jace props your leg around his shoulder. Swirling his tongue past your opening, a ragged moan escapes your lips, and you run your fingers through his dark locks. Feeling your pulse rise in your fingertips, a strong growl emanates from Jace’s chest, allowing his hunger for your lust to break the very windows of the room.
Leaning your head back, multiple multicolored stars fill the darkness behind your closed lids. Briefly moving your hips against the wooden table, a tingling sensation starts to rise in your core, signaling that you’re reaching your end. 
“Jace, please. I can’t…” You beg, scrunching Jace’s dark curls in your fingers. 
Reaching up to cup your breast, Jace continues to venture deeper inside of you, determined to taste every inch of you. Suddenly, your legs spasm and you quickly reach your end. 
“…Jacaerys…!” You gasp, not caring if anyone hears you.
Jace’s grip around your hips loosens and he crawls up your body, cocooning your shaking form in his arms. Burying your face in his neck, the collective scents of Vermax, water lilies, and the vast ocean being a wonderful distraction from the events going on outside your room.
Gazing at Jace, the two of you erupt in a small moment of laughter and delightful smiles that felt long overdue. Running your fingers through Jace’s locks, you bring his chin up to face you.
“I love you, Jace. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.” You address, tracing the outline of his strong face.
“And I you.” He vows, covering you with his cloak.
a/n pt. two ~ oml this man.
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ro-is-struggling · 8 months ago
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Safer In His Arms || Geralt of Rivia x Reader
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Requested by anon
Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that's what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined. 
Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff
English is not my first language
Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)
Notes: I don't know why I keep giving every princess I write a sad/tragic story, sorry about that. Also this ended up being way more smutty than I anticipated, sorry about that too (not really). It was supposed to be a fun little hurt/comfort fic about Geralt saving the reader but it developed a mind of its own and ended up being another excuse to write more smut. I tried to make the smut a bit more fluffy than normal since it's supposed to be the reader's first time, but I didn't want it to be too fluffy given that they technically barely know each other, so there's no actual love between them (if that makes sense?). So, sorry if it's a bit all over the place!
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The cold breeze of the summer night hit your skin the moment you set foot outside, reminding you that you should have taken a coat. While the days tended to be hot this time of year, once the sun set over the horizon a cool breeze embraced the entire kingdom, courtesy of the ocean forces that surrounded the borders of the land. It was quite peaceful. On a quiet night you loved to sit in the courtyard listening to the waves crashing against the rocks and smelling the scent of the salty water that was carried by the winds and mingled with the sweet perfume of the garden flowers. It seemed to always bring peace to your troubled mind, and that was exactly what you needed right now.
You could still hear the noise coming from inside the castle, though it was slowly getting lost in the sound of the sea. The laughter, the chatter, the joyful music, it all faded into the background as you plopped down on one of the seats in the courtyard, allowing yourself a moment to take a deep breath and let the beauty of your kingdom impart some of the wisdom you so desperately needed. All the guests were there for you —to talk and dance with you, to make unattainable but romantic promises in exchange for your hand in marriage— and yet all you wanted to do was disappear. You were tired of the politics, the diplomacy, tired of feeling the pressure of having to decide the future of your life and your kingdom in one night. The choice of a husband was very important to your parents, to your people and it should be to you too, but all you wanted was for the day to be over.
"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed in there." A deep voice startled you. 
Looking up you were met with a tall man leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof of the covered section of the courtyard. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles showing through the fabric of his clothes. His white hair hid part of his face, though you could still make out his hard expression and defined jaw. But what caught your attention the most was not the size of his muscles or the fact that the clothes he was wearing seemed too elegant for someone like him. No, what caught your attention the most were the amber eyes that watched you, admiring you from a distance, hiding behind a few rebellious strands of hair. You had never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were piercing, and yet there was a softness in them. Like the sun on a summer afternoon, they shone with an intensity that would have blinded anyone. But you were mesmerized by them, unable to look away. 
"Though I must admit I did not expect to find you here, your highness, given that you are the center of the party."
"I needed some fresh air." You managed to say, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. "I lost count of the number of men I danced with tonight...I just needed a break."
"That bad, huh?" His lips curved upward slightly, giving his hard expression a softer look. "I suppose if any of them had made a good impression at least you would remember their name."
"It wouldn't matter anyways. My parents have a very strong opinion about the one I should choose." You let out a bitter chuckle. "This banquet is just a formality, a contingency plan.... Give everyone a false sense of hope so they won't attack us for feeling left out."
"I'm sure you still have some sort of control over the whole thing. You're the one getting married after all."
"Since when does a woman's opinion matter when there's wealth and power involved? I'm just a pawn in their political game." Your gaze dropped, focusing on the embroidered details of your dress to avoid facing the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "When I was a girl I used to dream of growing up, meeting a brave and honorable prince and falling in love with him... now I know that feelings come after marriage, if they come at all."
Geralt watched you walk arround the courtyard, your fingers tracing the petals of the flowers that decorated the place without paying much attention to your movements. You had a blank stare and a sad expression adorned your delicate face. He was not a big lover of royalty —he didn't care about politics and didn't like the arrogant tone with which most of them used to speak—, but you were different. When he looked at you he didn't see a spoiled, arrogant princess or a manipulative political figure capable of anything to get their way. He only saw a sad and disillusioned young woman, confused about her future and the responsibility that fell on her shoulders. 
Geralt felt bad for you and had an inexplicable urge to hug you, though he restrained himself. He opted to move closer to you, just took a couple of steps forward and he was already able to breathe in the scent of your perfume. His nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by the sweet scent emanating from your skin and hair. It was special, a blend of jasmine, vanilla and a hint of sea water. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before and he was sure that your scent would linger in his memory for a long time.
"It is still your life." He spoke behind your back and you turned to look at him. He seemed much bigger now that he was closer to you. His figure towered over you imposingly, yet his eyes were soft. "You can always take back your control over it." Your lips curved upward slightly and Geralt thought the smile suited you much better than the grimace of sadness. 
You appreciated his effort to improve your mood. He was a complete stranger who had no reason to listen to your complaints about a life that many considered privileged. And though his words were simple, they accomplished their purpose. You felt so helpless and trapped that you were unable to see that things didn't end there. Yes, you were forced to marry someone you did not love for the sake of your kingdom, but that was not the same as giving up your life, your control and power over it. There was still hope.
"Thank you..." you trailed off, realizing at that moment that you had opened yourself so sincerely to a man whose name you didn't even know. 
But before he could introduce himself, a voice in the distance interrupted you, answering for him.
"Geralt! There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. You are supposed to protect me, you know."
Geralt let out an irritated sigh as the man you recognized as one of the many musicians hired by your parents to play at the banquet approached you. You had to stifle a chuckle as you realized that rather than escaping the noise of the party, he had come there to get a break from his friend's vibrant and cheerful personality. They were an odd pair, but you had no doubt that there had to be trust between them from the way the bard addresses him.
“I’ve been doing the impossible to hide from Lord Kaius for ages! What the hell were you doing out her–” The artist's complaints were cut short when his eyes finally rested on your figure. "Your highness." He gave a subtle bow, the tone of his voice changing to a lower, more subtle one from one second to the next.
"I'm afraid it's my fault. I was preoccupying your friend with the problems that afflict my mind on this fine evening and he was too kind to interrupt me. He was a great help, but you can take him back now. You clearly need him more than I do."
"Won't you come inside, your highness? You wouldn't want to miss your own party." The bard asked and you smiled at him. 
"In a moment. I'd like to enjoy the peace and fresh air for a while longer."
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Geralt didn't know why, but his eyes kept searching for you in the crowd of people dancing and eating like there was no tomorrow. After Jaskier dragged him back to the banquet hall —and after saving him from the fury of the man whose daughter had lost her innocence in the hands of the bard—, he kept his eyes on the big dark wooden doors, waiting to see you enter. But the minutes passed and there was no sign of you anywhere. He hadn't seen you come through the door and he couldn't find you in the crowd of people or see you at the royal table sitting next to your parents. You had disappeared and some people were beginning to notice.
For a moment, Geralt wondered if perhaps his words had encouraged certain behaviors in you. Maybe your way of taking control of your life was to run away from there, leaving your parents, your suitors and your responsibilities behind and start from scratch. He was wondering if perhaps he should go out to look for you, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a man running towards the king and queen waving a paper in his raised right hand.
"The princess has been kidnapped." He announced loudly, causing the entire room to fall into a deep silence. 
The musicians stopped playing, the people dancing stood motionless in the middle of the room and the queen almost fainted at that very moment. There was a collective sigh and then nothing. Pure silence while the king read the note that had been left behind by the bandits, establishing a payment for the recovery of the princess.
However, the silence did not last long. It was a room full of princes, knights and lords who were there to win the heart of the princess —or at least, the political interest of her parents— so chaos was bound to break out at a time like that. Lord Einar, the one who had found the note in the courtyard, was the first to offer his services to save the princess. His bravery set off a chain reaction of man after man appearing before the king to justify why they were the best suited for the task and not their competitors. And as they fought among themselves, Geralt decided to take matters into his own hands. 
He finally felt comfortable as he inspected the courtyard and its surroundings for some sort of clue as to your whereabouts. For the first time since he had arrived at the castle he felt as if he actually had something to do there. Banquets and politics weren't his thing, but tracking down and hunting evil was. And while his area of expertise was monsters, he was willing to make an exception —anything to find an excuse to get him out of the political mess unfolding in the banquet hall.
His senses enhanced by the mutation allowed Geralt to follow the path that your scent had left in the air. He only had to take a couple of deep breaths and he immediately caught the fragrance of jasmine and vanilla that he had smelled on your skin. It stood out above any other scent near him, almost as if he had you in front of him once again. All he had to do was follow it to the outskirts of the castle, where his tracking skills allowed him to form a clearer picture of the situation.
They were heading north, away from the ocean and into the forest. The four pairs of footprints in the dirt indicated the presence of three heavy men who were accompanied by a fourth subject that was not so pleased to be there. The footprints were more shallow and imperfect. They belonged to a person of smaller build who was being dragged by those men. Geralt found no blood on the path, so he felt optimistic. You were conscious and had no serious wounds that would leave traces of your blood on the road, so there was a high chance that he would arrive in time to save you.
Following the path became a little more complicated the deeper he went into the woods, but fortunately for him the vegetation was not so lush and the bandits had not hidden very far away. Soon he was able to hear their angry mutterings in the distance. The night wind carried your sobs with it and Geralt followed them as if it were a map straight to your whereabouts. 
You were being held captive in what appeared to be abandoned land. There was a dirty old shack and behind it, in the distance, Geralt could make out a barn that he had no doubt was in the same condition. A dim light was escaping through the half-open wooden door, so he knew that was where he had to go. 
Two of the bandits scattered around the property to control the perimeter while one remained inside with you. Geralt was able to slip past them unseen with ease. Clearly, they were not men of great intellect and wisdom. Only a fool would kidnap a princess on the one night she was surrounded by strong and capable noble knights looking to prove themselves to her. Although glancing around, he was the only one there, so perhaps the bandits had a point.
Geralt was very careful with his movements, seeking to stay in the shadows as long as possible to assess the situation. He knew he could take out those men without breaking a sweat, even if they attacked him all three at once. But he had to consider that you were in the middle and any mistake he made could end badly for you. So he took his time, stealing a glimpse of the barn through the cracked door. His vision was limited by the odd angle from which he was forced to observe the scene, as well as the dim light that illuminated the room. Geralt was considering going in with his sword held high and end it all, when a sudden movement forced him to retreat so as not to be found.
Still, he got to see the way the man was mistreating you, pushing you violently against a pile of hay while you cried and begged for your life. And he got to hear the string of degenerate words he spat at you, enjoying the fear in your voice as you struggled to keep your distance from him. It made Geralt angry. Very angry.
The next sequence of actions happened so quickly that it was hard for you to process it. Although, to be honest, your mind wasn't quite there either. A part of you was completely missing, preparing to face the worst. When your captor lunged at you, effectively imprisoning you against the hay and almost completely restricting your movements, your mind transported you to another place. You could still hear his voice in the distance, smell his unpleasant odor and feel his weight on your body, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the smell of salt water. Your body was still struggling to break free and tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but your mind was preparing to face the horror you knew was coming.
"You can cry all you want, no one is coming to save you." The man clicked his tongue, an evil smile forming on his lips. "A castle full of people and not a single man in sight, what a shame! But don't worry, princess, the time has come for you to know what a real man is." He moved his hands to the buttons of his pants, his leering gaze roaming over your body. You felt like screaming, crying and vomiting all at the same time, but you remained immobile, not knowing how to react. You simply closed your eyes, concentrating on the images of the sea you loved so much, waiting for the moment to pass.
But instead of feeling the weight of your captor's body on you again, you felt the splatter of warm liquid on your skin. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your tears, and streams fell on your clothes. When you opened your eyes you found the sharp point of a sword poking out of your captor's pierced stomach. It was his blood that drenched your body, his blood that stained your clothes. It poured down on you from the wound in his stomach and from the cut in his throat that prevented him from producing more than broken cries as he drowned in his own blood.
It took you a few seconds to understand what was happening. Your confused mind, on high alert for new dangers, was not able to comprehend that the death of your captor was something positive for you. You only saw blood in quantities you had never seen before and could not help but scream as you watched in horror as the sword disappeared inside the bandit's body —splashing a few more drops of blood on its way out.
In the blink of an eye, the dying body of your captor was removed from above you and was replaced by a hand that pressed over your mouth to silence you. You struggled against it, your own hands snapping out of their state of shock to clutch at the arm of the new danger in an attempt to separate it from you. But then your eyes focused on the man leaning over you, the one who had saved you and who was desperately asking you to keep quiet.
A surge of calm ran through your body as you made contact with those golden eyes that intrigued you so much. You knew then that you were no longer in danger for Geralt had come to your rescue. Your heart was still beating almost inhumanly fast, pumping adrenaline throughout your body, and your breathing was still rapid, but you were able to calm your whimpers of protest under his hand. You stopped fighting him, trusting that you would be safe under his care.
"There are more-" You tried to warn him as he removed his hand from your mouth, but Geralt shushed you.
"I know, they're outside. That's why I need you to stay quiet and hide while I deal with them. Can you do that, your highness?" You nodded slowly, letting Geralt lead you to the back of the barn. He settled you behind a pile of hay that was large enough to hide your crouched figure, asking you to stay there until he came back for you, no matter what you heard outside.
"Wait! Don't leave me!" you panicked as he took a step away from you. Your hand flew to his arm, clinging to his clothes in an attempt to keep him from leaving. You knew what he had to do, but the thought of being alone again terrified you.
"Everything will be fine." Geralt tried to calm you, his voice a soft whisper. "I promise I will come back for you." 
He gave you a moment before trying to leave once again, waiting for you to let go of his arm willingly rather than forcibly push you away. Geralt knew you were terrified and needed support, and he was more than willing to give it, but first he had to take care of the bandits that were still on the loose. And it would not be wise to fight them while you were present. It would only distress you further and put you in unnecessary danger. So, with a slight nod, he left you in the barn once more, disappearing into the night to finish what he had started.
You curled up in your place, listening to the distant sounds of the fight as you let another wave of tears roll down your cheeks. The smell of blood and dirt surrounded you. You were covered in it —in dirt, from being pushed back and forth around the place; in your captor's sweat, after he threw his body over yours; and in his blood, thanks to Geralt's fierce but effective attack. It made you want to vomit. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and your mind was slowly beginning to understand the great danger you were in and how lucky you were that Geralt showed up when he did.
“Princess?” 
His voice brought you back to reality. He was kneeling beside you, looking at you with concern in those beautiful yellow eyes. The skin on his face was stained with a few drops of blood, as you imagined yours to be, but that did not lessen the softness of his expression. You threw yourself into his arms without a second thought, hiding your face in his neck as you sobbed in relief to know that the danger was over.
"It's okay, you're safe. I'm here, it's going to be okay." Geralt muttered against your hair, pulling you into his arms hoping that would be enough to help ease your nerves. 
He held you against his body for as long as you needed him to, stroking your back with his hand in a slow, delicate way to inspire some sense of calm in you. He didn't move for a moment, not even when your sobs began to fade and your breathing became regular. No, Geralt waited for you to make the first move, breaking away from him when you were ready to do so. 
"It's all right. You're fine. Just breathe with me. In...and out...in...and out. All right." 
You let the soft but deep tone of his voice slowly wash away the paralyzing fear and nerves that plagued you. You focused on the warmth of his body and the way his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safe. You mimicked the rhythm of his breathing, letting him slowly guide you back to normal. 
When you opened your eyes again the world around you was no longer spinning. Your vision was still a little blurry from the tears, but you could make out perfectly the yellow eyes, bright as the summer sun, watching you carefully.
"There you are!" Geralt gave you a small smile. "Did they hurt you?" You shook your head. Most of the blood on you at that moment wasn't yours, thankfully. Beyond a couple of bruises on your wrists from the bindings, and a split lip from a slap, you weren't injured. Your head hurt and you had twisted your ankle in an attempt to escape but it was nothing you couldn't handle.
"Who were they?" You asked in a shaky voice as you tried to stand up. You winced in pain as you put weight on your injured foot, but Geralt caught you in his arms before you lost your balance.
"Trust me, you're not going to like the answer to that."
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A collective sigh was heard as you and Geralt entered the war room, where the king and queen were coordinating a rescue party with some soldiers and half of the suitors present at the banquet. It was a sigh of surprise rather than relief. It was clear that no one expected to see you there, much less with the disheveled appearance you had. 
Your mother was the first to react, running up to you with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't bring herself to hug you, the blood that stained your ball gown was still fresh, so she settled for holding your cheeks in her hands while repeating over and over again how happy she was that you were safe. Your father reacted by sending the guards to arrest Geralt as his worried mind believed that the witcher somehow had something to do with your kidnapping. You had to stand between them, taking your savior's hand in yours to make your position clear. 
"What you imply is ridiculous! He saved me, father. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." you stated firmly, keeping your head held high and holding back tears in your eyes. 
"He very well could still be behind all this. He's a witcher who wasn't officially invited to the festivities and conveniently vanished in the middle of the night without a word. No one can attest to him but that bard..."
"No offense, your majesty, but I just felt as though the situation was not being treated with the necessary urgency." Geralt interjected, speaking in a calm and slightly defiant tone. "I knew for a fact that she couldn't be far away and that time was of the essence, but everyone at that feast seemed more interested in proving themselves worthy of glory and respect than saving your daughter's life. I just did what had to be done."
"How dare you speak that way about these noble men, witcher! Any one of them would be more than willing to give his life for my daughter!"
"He is right, father. If you want to find a culprit, you should direct your gaze to Lord Einar."
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. But his gaze was focused on you, staring at you with a fury you didn't know if the others were able to detect. He took a step forward and you tightened your grip on Geralt's hand, instinctively seeking his support. He stuck to your side, silently letting you know that he was ready to come between him and you if necessary —though he seriously doubted that Einar would be stupid enough to try to hurt you in front of the king.
"This is absurd!" Lord Einar complained with exaggerated outrage. "I will not allow myself to be disrespected in this way! I was invited to this feast to formalize my interest in the princess, which is greater than that of anyone in this room, if I may add. Have you forgotten that it was I who noticed the princess's strange disappearance? If I had not gone out to look for her, perhaps the news of her disappearance would have come too late. And may I remind you, your majesty, that it was I who first offered my services to bring her back safe and sound."
"That was the plan, wasn't it?" Geralt spoke through gritted teeth. "To pay some coins to a bunch of desperate bastards to take her so that you could rescue her and thus win her and the king's heart."
"I will not allow this... thing to disrespect me like this!"
"Your scent was on their clothes. Your name was the last thing they uttered before I slit their throats. You knew you didn't stand a chance with her, so you found a way to force your name to the top of the list."
Intimidated by Geralt's cold, hard stare, Lord Einar turned to look at the king. "These are nothing more than baseless accusations made by someone who clearly wants to distract us from his own guilt and involvement." he said, keeping his head held high as he lied through his teeth. "I beg you, my king, to consider punishment for this insolent witcher."
"Is this proof enough for you?" you snapped, tossing an object on the table. 
After the bandits were dead, Geralt had searched their bodies for some kind of proof that their words were true. That's how he had found a ring in the pocket of one of them that clearly didn't belong to them. It was made of a fine metal and in the center, engraved in gold, was the seal of a noble family: the Blakesley family.
The ring rolled against the dark wood, exposing Lord Einar's lies with each flick of the ring before the gaze of all present. There was nothing he could say to avoid the punishment that was coming, so when your father gave the order and the guards took him by force, he decided to take his rage out on you. His voice echoed through the corridors as he was escorted to the dungeon, shouting a string of insults at you. He questioned your honor and your ability as a ruler, claiming that he only wanted to marry you to ensure that the kingdom would not perish when your father died. 
Those were nothing more than the words of an unstable man who was filled with spite, angered by your rejection. You knew it meant nothing, but you still couldn't help but feel humiliated as he shouted all those things in front of so many people. Your eyes filled with tears and you clung to Geralt almost instinctively, hiding your face in his neck so no one would see you cry. He wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the very unfriendly looks that several of the men in the room gave him. 
Your mother ordered the room to be emptied, realizing that the crowd was doing nothing to help your condition. The last thing you needed at that moment was to feel watched and judged by a bunch of people, so she personally closed the doors behind the last guard to leave the room.
"You should take a long bath, my love. I'll send someone to prepare the tub and clean clothes for you. That will certainly make you feel better." Your mother spoke in a soft voice, placing a hand on your back. "And you, witcher, are more than welcome to stay tonight. I'll have a room prepared for you and bring you some clean clothes. We can talk more in the morning."
You gave your mother a smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, trying to convince her that you were fine. She knew you weren't, but she also knew you well enough not to push you at that moment. So she left the room without adding anything else, leaving you alone with Geralt once again.
"Thank you... for everything." Your voice broke the silence, your eyes traveling from the door to Geralt's face. "I just realized I didn't thank you yet." 
"You don't have to." He didn't need to hear it from your mouth, he could see in your eyes how grateful you were. Your expression hadn't changed much since he had found you, even though you tried hard to hide it, there were still traces of fear and distress in your eyes.
"Of course I have to! You have saved me from a terrible fate, not only at the hands of those bandits, but also at the hands of that... man." There were other words with which you would have liked to describe him, but you decided it was not appropriate for you to utter them. He didn't even deserve that from you. "I'm glad you were dragged here... I don't know what would have become of me without you tonight, Geralt."
The room fell silent as you looked into each other's eyes. You lost yourself in the amber that surrounded his pupils —which seemed to be more dilated, although it could well be an effect of the light, you thought—, trying to discover the secrets hidden in his eyes. Geralt was not easy to read, no matter how hard you tried, you had no idea of the things that could be going through his head at that moment. And yet, there was something in his eyes that calmed you. When he looked back at you, there was a softness in them that invited you to continue to admire them forever. It was a connection unlike anything you had ever felt before. It piqued your curiosity and some other things you didn't quite know how to explain. 
Your hand was still intertwined with Geralt's and you weren't entirely sure for how long. Although you weren't complaining, you found the warmth of his skin against yours extremely comforting. It made you feel less alone, less vulnerable. You trusted him with your life, you knew that as long as he was around nothing bad could happen to you. And boy did you need that at that moment. You were still quite affected by everything that had happened and the idea of being alone terrified you. You needed company, but not just anyone. You needed his company.
"Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?" you broke the silence, clearing your throat to make sure your voice sounded firm. "My foot still hurts a little and I wouldn't want to fall down the stairs."
It was a foolish excuse. You knew it. Geralt knew it. The twisted foot you got while struggling with your captors was not a cause for concern. It hurt a little, yes, but you could still walk normally. All you wanted was an excuse not to be separated from Geralt and luckily for you, he played along. He allowed you to take his arm for stability and walked with you to your quarters. You appreciated his proximity, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours as his warmth enveloped you. But unfortunately it only seemed to aggravate his absence when he pulled away from you, willing to leave you alone so you could rest.
Your hand closed around his arm almost as an unwilling reflex. Your body craved his closeness. Your mind needed his company to be at ease. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Geralt leave. Not tonight at least. His eyes lingered on your hand, admiring how small it appeared when compared to his arm, before he looked up into your eyes, searching your expression for an explanation.
"Stay, please." Your voice was almost a whisper. Your eyes had trouble making eye contact with him for the first time since you had met. Geralt knew then that you were embarrassed of uttering those words. "I need you. I... I don't want to be alone tonight."
"Are you sure?" He said after a few seconds of silence, his expression firm but gentle. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes as you released his arm from your grip. Geralt sighed and finally crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind him. 
Geralt allowed you to guide him across the room to a door that hid a large private bathtub on the other side. It was already filled with water and salts, ready for you to use it. Everything smelled of you, of that delicious combination of jasmine and vanilla that Geralt found so special. It was intoxicating, like he was breathing in your scent straight from the source. 
"Would you mind helping me with the lace?" Your voice brought him back to reality. Geralt watched as you turned around, gathering your hair over one of your shoulders to expose your back to him so he could unfasten your dress. He knew it was inappropriate and that he was probably breaking some rule —not to mention, taking advantage of the king's hospitality—, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when you were offering yourself to him like that.
Geralt's hands caressed your back first, his fingers slowly tracing a path from your shoulders to where the lacing of your dress ended. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as you felt him slowly loosen your dress. You could feel his imposing figure towering over you. He was so close that you could hear his breathing and feel the heat radiating from his body. You liked the proximity, probably more than you should.
When Geralt finished his work and your dress began to slide down your shoulders, you knew you should have been embarrassed. You were used to being naked in front of servants, but they were always women you trusted, handmaidens who had taken care of you since you were little and helped you dress or bathe. You had never been so exposed in front of a man before and you should definitely feel ashamed, but you were not. You simply let the dress fall to your feet and stepped into the tub as if there was no man present.
The water was warm and the tub was deep enough to hide your modesty if you sat in the right position. The dim candlelight also helped, though ultimately you really didn't mind feeling Geralt's gaze on your body.
"Join me, please. The water's nice and there's room enough for both of us."
Your curious eyes unashamedly traced the muscles of his arms and torso as he revealed himself to you. You noticed the scars that marked his skin, some smaller and some larger, and you couldn't help but wonder what the stories behind them were. Geralt was an exceptional man, unlike anyone you had ever met in your life. He was so rigid and reserved, and yet he had shown nothing but kindness and gentleness in your presence. He was a mystery and you wanted nothing more than to discover what he hid behind those beautiful amber eyes.
Out of respect —and some embarrassment—, you looked away as his hands undid the buttons of his pants. You focused your attention on the jasmine petals floating in the water, feeling your cheeks grow warm as a small voice in your head encouraged you to look up. 
Geralt settled next to you in the tub, avoiding being too close or sitting in front of you so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in his presence. However, you needed his closeness, so you shortened the distance as much as you could, pressing your arm against his. When he didn't complain, you went a step further and rested your head on his shoulder. Geralt stood still for a moment, debating once again whether his actions were appropriate, but in the end he relaxed. 
He put his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer to him. A smile formed on your lips as you adjusted yourself in the new position, hiding your face in his neck. Geralt's fingers traced soft lines on the skin of your arm, a caress that both relaxed and excited you. That kind of intimacy was something new to you. Feeling his naked skin against yours, inhaling that musky scent mixed with something you couldn't describe as anything but his own essence, feeling the soft caresses of his calloused fingers, everything made you feel a certain way inside. You didn't have the exact words to describe it. It was like a flame, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and exciting. Ultimately, you didn't care about being able to put a name to what you felt. You just wanted to stay close to Geralt for as long as you were allowed.
Without even realizing it, your hand traveled up to his chest, your curious fingers tracing the jagged lines that marked his skin. You used the scars as a map to his body, letting them guide your path as you explored his chest with your touch. And as your fingers moved, you imagined the heroic stories behind each one, wondering what kind of monsters had inflicted them and if there were any that were human-made.
"I wonder how many princesses you've saved to end up like this." You broke the silence, your voice soft as you got lost in thought. It was mostly a joke, but there was some genuine curiosity hidden in it. 
"Surprisingly, less than you're probably imagining."
You didn't quite know why, but hearing Geralt say that put a smile on your lips. It made you feel special, in a way. He hadn't been hired to save you —technically he hadn't even been invited to the party—, he had no obligation to you or your family, and yet he had risked his life to help you. There was something in you that awakened in him his noblest instincts.
"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone." You laughed, looking up at him from your position on his shoulder. You could admire his profile, his sharp jawline and the way his lips curved upward slightly as he let out a huff.
"Often delicate young women like you find my methods to be too... grotesque. They don't see me as being much different from the monsters I kill." Geralt spoke honestly, remembering the horrified expressions on the faces of the maidens he had sought to save from danger in his past, when he had little experience as a witcher. He was young and naive at the time and believed he could use his skills for more than just hunting monsters. After all, evil came in all shapes and sizes, even in humans. It didn't take him long to understand that humans didn't see a knight of noble spirit when he intervened in such situations, only a mutant designed to kill.
You noticed his thoughtful expression, his eyes looking straight ahead as if his mind was transporting him to another place. You wondered what kind of memories he might have swirling around in his head at that moment, outraged to think that someone could treat him badly after he saved their life. You admitted that he had quite an imposing figure and that his expression wasn't very friendly most of the time, but you still couldn't understand how anyone could be afraid of him. Even before he saved you —when he was just a stranger who took the time to listen to your problems— you saw nothing threatening in him. His beautiful yellow eyes inspired nothing but trust in you from the first moment you made contact with them.
“Then they were all fools." You sat up straight, one hand resting on Geralt's cheek to force him to look at you. "I don't understand how anyone could look at you and see danger in you. Even covered in blood, all I see is... safety and comfort." You gave him a small smile as your finger carefully wiped a small spot of blood from his cheek.
"Or maybe you're being naively nice."
Geralt took a cloth that rested on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the warm water. Then one of his hands cupped your chin, tilting your face slightly so he could get a better look at you in the candlelight. The flames danced in the air, creating shadows on your delicate skin. But even in the dim light he could still see the splashes of blood that stained your beautiful face. They made such a contrast that it was impossible to ignore them. The implication of such a violent act had no place on the delicate face of a princess like you. He hated to see the scratch on your lip, the dirt on your cheeks, the dried blood on your skin. You should not have been subjected to such horrors and he wanted to do everything in his power to erase the evidence from your body. So Geralt took the trouble to wipe the blood away, carefully running the wet cloth over your skin until it was all gone.
You remained silent as he worked on you, completely immobile while you watched him closely. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but his expression was gentle. His hands moved delicately over your skin, as if he was afraid of breaking you if he wasn't careful. You could barely feel the cloth brushing against your cheek from how slow and gentle Geralt was being. But his fingers... his fingers were another story.
They were warm against your skin, caressing every little spot the cloth passed through to soothe any possible irritation the fabric might arouse. They awakened a tingling sensation as they traveled down your face. When they reached your neck, you knew that Geralt could feel the accelerated pulsing of your heart against his fingertips. It was impossible that he couldn't when you could hear the beating in your ears yourself. His hands felt so big against your neck. If he wanted to hurt you, he could probably do it with just one hand. That should have scared you, considering he was a man you barely knew, but it didn't. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you, not when he caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbones with such gentleness.
"Maybe I'm naive," you broke the silence, your voice barely more audible than a whisper. "But I honestly don't think a mutant designed to kill, as you say, would go to the trouble of caring for me the way you are doing."
Geralt's eyes looked up at you, that intriguing yellow you loved so much capturing you in a transe. They were calling you, daring you to dive into the ocean of honey and mystery that was his gaze. And you obeyed without the slightest resistance, letting your heart take the reins of your body. You leaned towards him, slowly. His hands were still on your neck, but he didn't use them to stop you. On the contrary, he leaned towards you too and when your lips finally collided, he used his grip on your jaw to deepen the kiss.
The kiss started slow, a quick brush of your lips as you finally let yourselves indulge in your deepest desires. But as you became more comfortable in each other's arms, the kiss intensified. You let Geralt guide you, knowing that he would undoubtedly have more experience than you. You surrendered to his lips and the caresses of his tongue, giving yourself to him completely as you struggled to keep up with him. 
That wasn't your first kiss, however, it was the first kiss that felt like this, so... intense, passionate. You barely remembered the boy who had given you your first kiss, but you knew you would remember Geralt for the rest of your life. You didn't know how he did it, but the simple touch of his lips and the strokes of his fingers on your skin turned you to mush between his hands. You had never felt anything like it before and you didn't want to stop. But despite your protests, Geralt suddenly pulled away from you.
"What are you doing?" He didn't sound annoyed or confused, more concerned. 
"I'm taking control of my life." You leaned into him once more and Geralt accepted your kiss, his desperate lips demonstrating his true intentions. He let his desires consume him for a moment before regaining control over his body and pulling away from you again.
"Are you sure?" It wasn't that he wanted to stop, but the voice of morality in the back of his mind compelled him to make sure you wanted the same. He needed to know that he wasn't taking advantage of you, that you weren't throwing yourself into his arms as a result of your vulnerable state after the attack.
"For as long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of meeting a noble prince who would protect me from danger. We would fall in love and live a long and happy life together after our marriage. Now I know that is impossible. I cannot choose who I marry. I cannot choose to marry for love. There's nothing I can do to change it, that's just the way things work." You paused, your hands reaching for Geralt's to entwine your fingers. "But I can still choose who to give myself to, body and soul, for the first time... and you're the closest thing I have to that fantasy."
There was a sadness in your eyes that made Geralt feel bad for you. He didn't know you very well, but he knew you deserved better than a future you didn't want. The inability to choose your own path in life was something that seemed to affect you greatly, and if he was able to bring you some peace he was willing to do so. But the tub full of dirty water was not the place for it, much less considering it would be your first experience of something like that. 
"Speak freely." You said after a few seconds of unbearable silence. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't like me I'll understand. But please don't turn me down just because you think you're guarding my honor or something. I want this... I want you."
Those last words seemed to do the trick, because Geralt's lips joined yours once again. Only this time the kiss was different, much slower and more sensual, though just as desperate. His lips moved in time with yours, tongues intertwined in a sinful dance as Geralt allowed his hands to slowly explore your body. His fingers ignited flames on your skin in their path, pleasure and anticipation building inside you. 
The water in the tub swirled violently as Geralt lifted you into his arms, moving you to sit on his lap as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his shoulders for support, feeling his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your hips. But it didn't hurt, at least not in a bad way. It was a pleasant ache that made you feel alive. Just like his kisses, which trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. 
Geralt's kisses continued their way down and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his when his lips closed over your nipple. You pushed your chest into him instinctively, giving yourself to him as one of your hands got lost in his hair. Pure pleasure traveled through your veins as his tongue played with your breasts, giving attention to one before moving on to the other. He held you tightly against his body, one strong arm stretched across your back while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his growing erection. 
You both moaned as your cunt made contact with his cock. The sensation you felt when the tip brushed against your little bundle of nerves was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure was much more intense, much more raw. You could feel it spreading through your body and into your bones. So, naturally, you sought it again, creating a rhythm that had you panting in no time. 
You were forced to stop when Geralt suddenly stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your moan of pleasure turned into a cry of surprise, the water in the tub moving violently, flooding the room as he moved towards the exit. You clung to his shoulders, afraid of falling, as you asked him what he was doing.
"We can't do it here. It has to be done properly, in a bed where you’ll be comfortable, and not in a bathtub full of filthy water."
You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you understood the meaning of his words. Once again, Geralt was looking after you, worrying about you and your well-being more than any other man in your life had ever done. He wanted to make things right, to make sure that your first sexual encounter was a positive experience. And while he wasn't exactly the man you had imagined doing it with, he was quite close to it. Every thing he said, every gesture he made to you, made you feel more confident in your decision.
Geralt carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before continuing his assault on your body. He kissed you again and, as you let his tongue explore your mouth, you couldn't help but think how much bigger he felt now that he was leaning over you. He had one arm on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn't crush you with his weight. One of his toned legs rested in between yours, keeping you open and exposed to him. You were essentially trapped under his body, completely at his mercy, and you liked it.
The pleasure building up inside you was starting to feel too overwhelming. As much as you enjoyed Geralt's wet kisses, you needed more. You needed relief. So you pushed your hips into him once more, seeking that intoxicating pleasure you'd felt in the bathtub. Your wet pussy slid easily up his thigh and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body. 
"Fuck!" Geralt moaned as he felt your wetness trickling down his leg. You looked so sensual moving your hips against him with adoring desperation, struggling to find some relief. The little moans that fell from your lips in between ragged breaths drove him crazy, making it difficult for him to control his instincts. He had to be gentle with you, it was your first time and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't pin you down and fuck you until your legs shook.
"Tell me, princess, have you ever touched yourself?" Geralt spoke against your skin as his lips continued their path of wet kisses down your body. "Perhaps when you were alone at night, hidden in the darkness of your chambers."
It took you a few seconds to process Geralt's words, your mind distracted with the way his kisses slowly trailed down your chest, barely pausing on your breasts before continuing to travel down. It made your body tremble with anticipation, wondering what he was up to. He was watching you from his position on your abdomen, lips barely pulling away from your skin so he could observe your face more comfortably, waiting for an answer. The color of his eyes had darkened, the yellow glowing like the flames of the candles that lit the room. There was hunger in them. Geralt was looking at you like a wolf at its prey. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, managing to answer him with a simple negative shake of your head. 
"So you don't know what real pleasure feels like, huh?" You weren't sure if it was a question for you, but you shook your head again anyway. You felt Geralt's lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of your lower belly and a shiver ran down your spine when you heard his next words. "I'm going to change that."
Despite the firmness in his voice, Geralt was slow and gentle with each movement he made next. He was careful to position himself between your legs, pushing them open and revealing your most secret part to his hungry gaze. He noticed almost immediately the way you tensed with embarrassment, feeling vulnerable, so he was quick to spread sweet kisses on your right thigh, while gently caressing the skin of your left. He could smell the scent of your arousal with every breath he took. It was intoxicating, the sweet nectar he had been waiting to taste all this time. But first he had to make sure you were comfortable. He was there to pleasure you, nothing mattered if you didn't enjoy it.
"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be ashamed, you're beautiful." He spoke against your skin, his voice a raspy, sensual, whisper. "I have to get you ready for my cock, all right? This will feel so good, I promise. But if it doesn't, I want you to tell me, can you do that?" You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. "I need you to use your words."
"Yes, Geralt, I will."
"Good."
Geralt gave you a few seconds to relax before diving into your cunt, spreading wet kisses down your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the place where you needed him most. When his tongue finally made contact with the sweet nectar trickling down your folds, he let out a sound that vibrated in his chest with force. All hint of self-control disappeared then, buried under the primal desire that the taste of your arousal awakened in him.
He ate you like a starving man, his tongue exploring your most intimate place with expert skill. Your hips jolted as his lips closed over your small bundle of nerves, your whole body convulsing as you felt pleasure like you had never felt before. It was so intense it was almost too much. It scared you in a way, as it felt like your own body didn't respond to you —like it didn't belong to you. It belonged to Geralt now, and only responded to the stimulation he gave your body.  You were torn between the need to pull away from his entrancing lips —which were no doubt uttering some spell to claim ownership of your innocence— and your body's carnal desire to surrender to his clever tricks in order to continue to feel such pure pleasure.
"Does it feel good, princess?" Geralt spoke between your legs, his warm breath crashing against your pussy and sending shivers down your spine. 
"Yes! So good... please don't stop." You didn't recognize your own voice as you spoke. It sounded raspy from all the moaning, and there was a hint of desperation you'd never heard in yourself before. It wasn't the first time you had begged someone for something you wanted, but it was the first time you actually meant it.
"I won't, I promise. I'm here to make you feel good." Geralt assured between slow, long licks, focusing his attention on your clit before continuing. "But if you're going to take my cock, I'll need to stretch your tight hole." You tensed again and once more he used his strategy of stroking and kissing your thighs to calm you down. You knew that penetration was an important part of the whole thing and you were ready to face it, but still, the unknown scared you a little. "I'm going to insert a finger inside you, is that all right my sweet? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it will feel great afterwards. But first I have to know that you still want this."
"Yes, Geralt, I want this. I trust you, please." You gave him a shy smile, looking at him with complete admiration. He saw the desire in your eyes, mixed with anticipation and a hint of fear. But you were confident in your decision, so he continued.
"Relax, I'm going to take care of you." He murmured against your skin, his kisses slowly moving closer to your wet cunt. "Just focus on the pleasure."
Geralt's voice echoed in your mind, your body obeying his commands as if he had cast a spell over you that left you with no other choice. You focused on the fire burning inside you, on the skillful way he flicked his tongue against your abused bundle of nerves and on the knot in your stomach that tightened with each passing second. You tried not to tense up as you felt Geralt's finger press against your entrance, biting your lip and taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. His tongue was doing a good job of distracting you, but you could still feel the slightly painful drag of his finger inside you. 
"You're doing so well for me." Geralt complimented you, keeping his finger still inside you to give you time to get used to the new sensation. You couldn't hide how much it pleased you to hear those words, because your walls clenched around his finger, revealing your deepest desires. Geralt grunted against your pussy, fantasizing about how good your tight hole would feel around his cock. 
It took you a moment to get used to the strange sensation of his intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly, mostly uncomfortable since your walls weren't used to stretching like that. But eventually the discomfort faded into pleasure, bringing new sensations as he slowly began to move his finger inside you. 
Your moans became uncontrollable, increasing in volume with each of Geralt's caresses. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would have worried about the possibility of being overheard by some servant or guard walking down the corridor. You knew it might potentially ruin your reputation, but you couldn't focus on anything other than the way Geralt's long, thick finger stretched you, making you feel full in the most pleasurable way possible. 
"Geralt I-" You tried to speak, but the air caught in your throat as you felt the knot in your stomach becoming incredibly tight, threatening to snap.
"I know, my sweet, I know." Geralt interrupted you as he noticed your trouble forming coherent sentences. He could sense you were getting close to relief in the way your walls tightened around his finger, your juices dripping down your legs and soaking his hand. "Just let yourself go. I've got you."
Geralt added another finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. He was careful, his movements slow and precise as he both prepared you for his cock and brought you closer to the edge. His mouth focused on your clit, his lips closing around your sensitive pearl as his fingers explored your insides, reaching that spongy place deep inside you and rubbing it until your whole body shuddered with your orgasm.
It felt like your insides exploded, the tension that had been building in your core suddenly snapping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Your mind went blank, eyes rolling back as Geralt did his best to hold back the violent spasms of your muscles. 
And then your body fell limp on the sheets. You could barely hear the world around you over your racing heartbeat that throbbed in your ears. You knew Geralt was muttering things against your skin as he kissed his way back up, but your mind was too lost in the pleasure to make sense of his words. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your body desperate for oxygen as it struggled to regain control.
"There you are!" Geralt gave you a soft smile as you opened your eyes, his face slowly coming into focus on your clouded vision. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine! That was..." you paused, searching for the words to describe it. Although explaining your feelings proved to be more difficult than you expected. You were convinced that there were no words in any language you knew to describe what he had made you feel. So you let out an airy laugh, hiding your face in his neck and spreading small kisses over his skin.
"Do you still want to go through with this?" Geralt asked you, pulling away from you a little so he could look into your eyes. You kissed him back, tasting the sweet flavor of your arousal on his tongue. It was strangely erotic for you to feel your own essence on him, like a mark that, though temporary, showed to whom his lips belonged. It sent a rush of desire and confidence through your body, igniting the fire inside you once more.
The pressure of his cock was nothing like his fingers. While the stretching sensation was not completely foreign to you, Geralt's cock was much longer and thicker than his fingers so it hurt a lot more when he began to push it into you. The mixture of your arousal and his saliva helped his member slide more easily through your walls, but you still couldn't hold back the whine of pain, which vibrated against Geralt's lips. 
"It's all right... you're all right. Just a little more." He crooned as he rested his forehead against yours. His fingers caressed the skin of your hip, giving you comfort as you clung to his shoulders. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet." His voice was soft, but erratic, laced with the clear pleasure that sliding so torturously slow inside your tight walls brought him. 
Geralt remained immobile once he bottomed out, spreading kisses all over your face and neck as he gave you time to adjust to his size. It was the hardest task he had ever had to do in his life. Facing any monster was easier than staying still when your warm, wet walls wrapped around him so well. He was desperate to move, pull out of you almost completely only to slam back in, thrusting his hips against yours as he pinned you against the bed. But it was your first time, so he had to be gentle with you. You weren't ready for that kind of rough loving, so Geralt pushed his dark desires aside and waited for you to give him the signal to move. 
After a while, your moans of discomfort turned into whimpers of protest, not from pain, but from the growing fire inside you that wasn't being tended to. You experimentally moved your hips against Geralt's, just to see what it would feel like. It was a small movement, but it was enough to push his cock deeper inside you, sparking a pleasurable tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. So you did it again, moving with more confidence this time. And again, only this time, Geralt met you halfway, grinding his hips against yours.
Your walls tightened around his cock and the growl that escaped his lips was so deep and primal that it almost pushed you over the edge once more. Something about knowing that you were the cause of those moans, that your body, your pussy, your caresses, were responsible for such reactions was so arousing. Knowing that even though you were inexperienced you were able to elicit such pleasure in him made you feel more comfortable and confident. You were turning his world upside down as much as he was turning yours.
"You look so beautiful like this." Geralt said as he slightly increased the rhythm of his hips. "So small and fragile underneath me, eyes filled with lust as you try your best to take me in your tight hole." 
You moaned into his mouth, desperately searching his lips for something to keep you grounded as pleasure took over your body and mind. Your cunt clenched at his words, finding the mix of softness and roughness in his action incredibly arousing. His hips moved against yours in a consistent and deep, yet slow and sensual rhythm. His calloused fingers roamed over your body, caressing you in such a subtle way that it gave you goosebumps. His filthy words perfectly balanced flattery and roughness, awakening feelings you didn't know you had. It was all a dangerous, overwhelming mix, slowly getting to you close to the edge.
"Does it feel good? Do you like feeling me deep inside you?" You could only moan incoherently in response, hiding your face in the crook of Geralt's neck as your nails dug into his back. "I like it too. You feel so good wrapped around me, my perfect princess."
"Yes, I'm yours! I'm all yours, please..." You begged, for what, you weren't sure. But that didn't really matter, you just wanted Geralt to do whatever he wanted with you. You knew there was no future in your relationship, but this was no time to think about tomorrow. At that moment you were giving yourself body and soul to him, allowing him permission to use and explore your body as he wished.
"Yes you are, but not just for tonight." Geralt moaned in your ear, his voice a deep hoarse whisper. He sucked a mark just below your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive area playfully before continuing to speak. "You will always remember this night and think of me when your future husband takes you to bed on your wedding night. He's not going to compare to me... to how good I'm making you feel. But that's fine, because at least you had a chance to know what it feels like to be adored like you truly deserve, my princess."
"Fuck, Geralt! I'm-" Your warning was interrupted by a moan as you felt him sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck at the same time he pushed his member incredibly deep inside you.
"I know, I can feel you squeezing me so tight. It's alright, just let go for me, my sweet. I want to feel you as you come undone on my cock." 
His hand traveled south, calloused fingers pressing against your abused bundle of nerves, drawing circles over it. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made it hard to focus, his own orgasm approaching with alarming speed. But he kept a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, sensual way to make sure his cock brushed that special place inside you without causing you any pain.
"That's it, keep making those pretty notices for me. You're doing so good for me, my beautiful, perfect, princess. Just let go, I've got you. You're safe with me, just let go."
It was the softness in his husky voice that finally pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Geralt's name was the last thing you uttered before the world around you disappeared behind the waves of pleasure. It was a pathetic whimper, a plea for mercy as you felt frightened by the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Geralt was sure he had never heard a more sensual melody. The way you had uttered his name just before the pleasure exploded inside you was something he was never going to forget.
"That's it, my sweet. You did such a good job for me." He complimented you, slowing down the rhythm of his hips to give you time to recover. "You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe... that's it." 
Geralt's voice helped you refocus on the real world, his sweet kisses slowly lifting the fog that clouded your mind. You could still feel him inside you, his cock throbbing desperate for relief. The shallow thrusts weren't enough and you needed to feel him falling apart inside you. You needed to know what it felt like to have a man —and especially him— come inside you. And you knew it was safe with him since witchers were incapable of fathering children as a result of their mutations.
"Geralt, please... I want to feel you." You managed to say between gasps, locking your legs around his hips to keep him in place, pressed inside you. He let out a deep growl as he understood the meaning behind your words, his eyes darkening with lust. You were definitely going to be the death of him.
"Of course, my sweet, how could I deny you anything?" He murmurs against your lips, slowly increasing the rhythm of his hips. "You want to feel my seed deep inside you, is that it? You want me to fill you up, leave a part of me inside you so you won't miss me so much when I'm gone?"
His words alone were enough to ignite that flame inside you again. Your body was tired, but still screamed for more. Geralt's thrusts became erratic with each passing second, desperate to reach his own relief. And in the search for his pleasure he was taking you with him to a new limit. 
"I will give it to you, my princess. I will give you all of me. I could never deny you anything, my sweet, beautiful girl."
His sweet words contrasted with the harshness of his movements, hips crashing against yours in desperate thrusts. He was getting closer to his relief and he could feel in the way your cunt clenched around his cock that you were too. His thumb focused on your clit once more, one, two, three strokes accompanied by his thrusts and you were crying his name again. But he didn't get to enjoy much of the way you tightened around him, because he came seconds later, shooting his load deep inside you.
Geralt collapsed on top of you, his body crushing you against the bed as you both tried to catch your breath. But even though he was much bigger than you, it wasn't an uncomfortable position. The weight of his body felt comforting against yours. You liked the way he hid his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your sweaty skin. It gave you the opportunity to stroke his back and run your fingers through his hair. It felt intimate, in a completely different way than the sex you'd just had. 
You whined in protest as he rolled to the side, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his sliding down your legs now that his cock had left you. It was a strange sensation to feel empty without him inside you. You didn't know such a feeling was possible, for you that used to be normal, the only way to feel. But now that you had had Geralt buried deep inside you, that you had felt his seed filling you to the brim, you would always be aware of that strange emptiness between your legs.
"How are you feeling?" you heard him say and you struggled to open your eyes, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He was standing at the foot of the bed, a cloth in his hand, and you wondered when he had moved from your side without you noticing.
"Great! That was... great." You mumbled, still unable to find an adequate word to describe how good he had made you feel.
Geralt gave you a small smile before lowering his face to your legs, placing small kisses on your skin as he moved closer and closer to your center. "Open up for me, my princess. I need to clean you." 
You reluctantly complied, feeling much more exposed and vulnerable now that the deed was done. However, he was gentle with you, moving carefully as he cleaned you so as not to irritate your sensitive, abused cunt. And when he was done, he kissed his way down your face, caressing your skin with his lips, culminating his journey in your mouth.
"What about you?" you tried to sound casual as you spoke, though you failed miserably. "Was it... good for you too?" You immediately regretted your choice of words, worrying that you had ruined the moment.
"I thought I had been quite clear if not with my words, with my actions at least." Geralt let out an airy laugh and you followed suit, feeling a little more relieved. 
Then the room fell into silence. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one, but a peaceful one. You got lost in Geralt's eyes, admiring the yellow glow that was much softer now, though just as captivating. The candlelight reflected in them in a special way, highlighting their unique beauty. You could stare at them for hours if it weren't for the tiredness that was slowly beginning to take hold of you. 
You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you felt Geralt move beside you. You stopped feeling the weight of his body on the bed, so you opened your eyes immediately. Your hand flew to his arm, fingers closing around his wrist. "Please don't go," you begged as you saw that he had sat up in bed. "I want you to stay with me tonight."
Geralt smiled, the corners of his lip curving slightly upward as he reached out with his free arm to grab the blanket that had been left forgotten at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to your hand and his expression turned hard as he noticed the ligature marks on your skin. He hated to know the horrible treatment that someone as delicate and beautiful as you had to go through at the hands of those bandits. Even though he had rescued you before something even worse happened to you, as he looked at the marks on your wrists he feared he had not been quick enough.
Noticing the change in his expression, your eyes followed Geralt's gaze with curiosity. You felt embarrassed when you realized what he was looking at with such intensity and released his grip on his arm, seeking to hide your injured wrist. But he didn't let you. Geralt intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to his lips. His eyes didn't break contact with you as he scattered delicate kisses over the irritated area of your wrist, showing you that you had nothing to be ashamed of with him.
"I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to, my princess. I'm here to serve you tonight." Geralt said as he lay down next to you once again, covering you both with the blanket.
You took advantage of his words and his desire to please you by curling up against him, resting your head on his chest. Geralt wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you even tighter against his body as he let his fingers trace invisible patterns on your skin. It was extremely relaxing, his gentle touch and the warmth of his body enveloping you was exactly what your tired mind needed to rest. All the fear, the terrifying memories of your attackers and the feeling of danger completely disappeared as he held you in his arms. 
"Good, because I feel safer when I'm in your arms." You mumbled as you closed your eyes, feeling sleep slowly overcome you.
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It was hard to say goodbye to Geralt when the time came for him to leave. He had only stayed at the castle for a couple of days at your father's insistence, but that had been more than enough for you to grow fond of him. He was not a very talkative person, but that only made your conversations more interesting. He was intriguing, a closed book that only opened with the pronunciation of the right words. You had fun unraveling some of his history, hearing about his adventures and the monsters he had faced. He was definitely the most interesting man you had ever met - far more interesting and noble than most of the men who were competing for your hand in marriage. And now you had to see him go.
You always knew that your days were numbered, that Geralt would eventually leave and you would have to go back to reality. You thought you could do it, enjoy his company and the illusion of freedom you had created with him and then say goodbye as if nothing happened, but you would be lying if you said you weren't a little sad about his departure. Especially because you didn't know if you would ever see him again. Maybe on your wedding day, if you invited Jaskier to play at the festivities he would bring him as security again. Or perhaps, if the kingdom was haunted by some evil creature he would find his way back to you. But nothing was certain and that made you feel quite sad.
"I guess this is our goodbye." You watched Geralt settle his horse's saddle, tucking away his swords and clutching his bag as he prepared to leave. You tried to hide the grimace of sadness that wanted to form on your face, but the disappointment in your voice betrayed you. "I'll never see you again, will I?"
Geralt stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes. You could have sworn you saw a glint of sadness in the golden fire of his irises, though it disappeared as he blinked. "It'll probably be a while, yeah." He sighed. "But nothing is set in stone. Maybe the search for a job will bring me back down these roads."
You smiled. Even moments before he left, he was still making an effort to make you feel good. "I'd like that." You took a couple of steps closer to him, taking his hand in yours to feel his skin against yours one last time. "The gates of this castle will always be open to you, Geralt of Rivia. And as long as I am alive, you will always find safe passage through these lands."
"Thank you, your highness. It is an honor." He bowed slightly even though he knew it was not necessary. Formalities had been forgotten between you since your night together. Then, he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips caressed your skin gently, planting a soft kiss of farewell. "Until we meet again."
You held back the urge you had to taste the flavor of his lips one last time, knowing that there were too many eyes around you that would deem such behavior inappropriate. And perhaps they were right, after all, a respectable maiden like you, in search of a husband to marry and rule with, could not be seen kissing anybody. You knew you would probably regret it for the rest of your life —especially if Geralt never stopped by again—, but it was the right thing to do. Your days of freedom were over, now you had to resume your responsibilities as a princess and that meant holding back the urge you had to run after Geralt, get on his horse and let him take you wherever he wanted. So you just watched him leave, seeing how his figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon while you wished with all your soul that fate would cross your path again.
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yesimwriting · 3 months ago
Text
Normalcy
A/n deadpool and wolverine drabble bc the movie was a little too good
Summary: Still reeling from the loss of your powers, you struggle to hold it together inside the TVA's void. Thankfully, you find an uncharacteristically peaceful distraction in your old friend Deadpool and in the wolverine variant who wants nothing to do with you.
Warnings/info: reader is a (former) avenger (bc i love the avengers <3), reader is described as having similar powers to wanda and having trained with her (bc i love wanda), implied beginning of an accidental love triangle if you squint ig, maybe too much lore for a drabble (?), me writing for characters for the first time so be nice 😭
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The lines etched into your palms do not bend and twist to spell out secrets, there are no messages worth decoding pressed into your skin. Knowing this is not enough to stop you from staring at your hands like if you could just think about it hard enough...
"There you are, Peanut." The words are so warm you're briefly pulled out of your internal angst. You straighten, head lifting slightly and arms crossing in front of your chest. "Thought I lost you."
Wade continues forward until he's directly in front of you. He pauses, watching you with an unabashed openness that you'd only ever allow him to get away with. "Kidding," he tries, "I'd never lose you."
The familiarity of the casual affection eases you further, the corner of your mouth tugging itself upwards. "I was like 15 feet away from you."
"Sorry for caring." It's his go to comeback when it comes to defending the displays of affection you have the audacity to find overdramatic.
You blink, lips parting despite your lack of response. The world has felt a little slower these last few days, moving at a pace that leaves you with no choice but to reflect. Maybe it's the void.
"Hey," his voice feels a little flatter without his usual humor, "Are you okay?"
You let out a breath, shocked by this new low. Sure, you've known Wade for awhile and you've both seen each other through plenty of stages, but he's never felt the need to attempt a genuine pep talk for you. He's never struck you as the pep talk sort...for anyone. Do you really seem that off?
It's bad enough that your identity crisis has stolen the abilities that would have helped your trio pop out of the void with no real fanfare, you can't also make your insecurities everyone else's problem. "Yeah." The response doesn't feel convincing, but with Wade wearing the Deadpool mask, it's hard to be sure. "Just y'know...we're in a void and our reality might be ripped apart, so I've been better."
He's still watching you with a level of focus that's unnerving. You've gotten used to his familiarity, his lack of care for personal space or the social rules around watching people. "You're doing it again."
"Seducing you with my ability to have a heart to heart while looking this good in my suit?"
You sigh in an attempt to dismiss your slight smile. Happy or sad, superhero that once fought Thanos or regular person that can't regulate their emotions, Wade always treats you the same. "The staring thing. You said you'd stop."
"No, you said I'd stop." The correction is a return to what you're used to. He takes a step towards you, his proximity now forcing you to tilt your chin up slightly to look him in the eye. "I'd never promise to look at you less."
"Comforting."
He angles his chin downwards, making the limited distance feel more significant. "I thought so." For a moment, he's quiet in a way that doesn't feel very him. "Are you sure you're...good?" His hesitance is another reminder that this is far out of his element. "I know this is your first..." Wade's rarely careful, only ever treading lightly on the one subject you never want to bring. "Outing, since..."
"I lost my powers."
Wade goes quiet again. If this conversation is as inevitable as it seems, a part of you wishes it could have come up elsewhere. Maybe in your shared apartment, definitely without the mask so you could better interpret his reactions. It's not often you keep secrets from him, but the hollowness you feel knowing the part of yourself you've lost isn't something you can just share.
It's more than just about missing your party tricks, it's about losing a part of yourself. They were all that was left of your time with the Avengers, of what Wanda taught you before Westview.
He lets out a breath. "They're not lost." You raise your eyebrows slightly, giving him a look meant to caution him against sympathetic optimism. "We don't know that."
He seems so happy to be able to tell you that there's no proof that any and all magical abilities have been flushed out of your system, you don't have it in you to remind him that that's mainly because you have no one to ask. What's left of the Avengers and your government connections either barely understand what you were or are untrustworthy.
"Educated wish?"
His mask muffles a slight gasp. You press your lips together in an attempt to resist smiling. "The last one worked out great."
Your eyebrows pull together skeptically, a reminder that the two of you are still technically in the middle of the last educated wish he attempted to speak into existence. "Didn't Wolverine stab you multiple times--"
He cuts you off with a heavy sigh. "If I took getting stabbed personally, do you know where we'd be?"
In a reality where Wade holds grudges over those kinds of things, you wouldn't be anything to each other, except maybe enemies. You've never pulled a knife or sword or anything sharp on him, but when you first met he did startle you before you had a total grip on your abilities, which resulted in him getting thrown through a wall.
"I never stabbed you."
His hand finds your shoulder. You let him drag his thumb against against the fabric of your suit. "And that's how I know you really love me, Peanut."
You roll your eyes in an attempt to dislodge the warmth that settles in the pit of your stomach. The last thing Wade needs is encouragement. "I mean, I do go around stabbing everyone I like less than you."
He lets out a sound that feels like a scoff attempting to mask itself as a dry laugh. "There's the sense of humor that'd hurt me if I knew you less."
"Well--"
He squeezes your shoulder, "I know you." Okay. You'll let him have this one because maybe there's some truth to what he's saying. "I'm going to go check on the car, because a fucking Honda Odyssey would break down on us for no reason before we got to the fight."
"For no reason or because of the bitch fight you and Wolverine had in it?"
There's a beat of silence in which all you can do is try to imagine Wade's expression behind the mask. You'd like to think that he's smiling. "Oh, Pumpkin." He sighs as if you've stumbled onto saying something terribly naive. "It wasn't a bitch fight, it was awesome, and probably turned you on."
You deadpan a flat, "You caught me." He hasn't let go of your shoulder, and a part of you is oddly glad for it. "I'd offer you help with the car, but..."
You're self aware enough to acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses, car maintenance being the latter. Wade doesn't even let you get your oil changed by yourself anymore.
"I've met you." He squeezes your shoulder again, the gesture weirdly stabilizing. "Give me 15 minutes to actually look at the car and then I'm all yours."
Wade lets go of you, his arm falling to his side. "Aren't you always?"
He lets out an exaggerated gasp. "You're making me feel cheaper than my usual rate, Peanut."
You smile as he turns away. Things are always a little easier with Wade. It's more than just distraction, it's his way of making things feel a little lighter. You're not sure what to do with your 15 minutes of solitude to avoid falling back into self pity.
You originally broke away from the group of void trapped heroes under the premise of needing fresh air, but even here, with the expansive, sparsely wooded area at your disposal, the oxygen in your lungs still feels flat. If Wanda were around, you'd be able to ask if she felt the strangeness of this other plane of existence as well. At least then you'd know if your dislike of the void is only mental or an actual sign of life from your abilities.
You begin to walk forward, hoping to shed all thoughts of both your former self and the eeriness of this other world. There are other people you could talk to you. The others have been polite enough, or at the very least, passionate enough to be talked into facing Cassandra.
The trees you've been wandering through grow in their sparsity, the edge of the woods revealing a patch of grassland highlighted by a fire's warm glow. You squint past the tree line, attempting to make out the figure sitting in front of the flames. Wolverine.
Secluded from the group and staring at a campfire. Surprising. Though, you guess it's not fair to judge him too harshly, you left the group to brood as well.
He doesn't like you, doesn't know you well enough to dislike you, but it took him no time to find a way to get around that. Maybe it's your proximity to Wade. You've done your best to take his hostility as un-personally as possible. You've seen enough people you really care about go through the guilt ridden, fallen hero thing to know how deep that kind of hurt runs.
You've never known a Wolverine or Logan Howlett variant, so you have no way of knowing what he was like before. Sure, you've heard stories, but you're also overly aware of how the media can twist and turn those stories to fit their narrative. One day, a superhero is the world's greatest protector, and the next their the greatest menace. Maybe he was always a little dark, or maybe he wasn't.
"Don't just stand there." The gruffness of his voice startles you more than it should.
Heat crawls up your neck, a part of you more embarrassed than you should be. You weren't lurking, or at the very least, you weren't trying to.
You sigh as you abandon the safety of the tree line. "Sorry." He turns his head away from the fire. "I wasn't--I was just walking."
He's quiet for such a long moment you almost expect him to not respond at all. "Without your shadow?"
Wow, only a halfhearted dig at Wade. You must have caught him in a good mood. "Friend, and he's looking at the car. I'd be looking at the car with him, but I figured the odds for tomorrow are bad enough as is."
Another uneasy stretch of silence. "Yeah." There's not much, if anything, to take from the comment. "If you're here to convince me to go with you guys tomorrow--"
"I'm not." It's an honest answer. You had been walking around aimlessly and happened to stumble onto him. "I'm not into the pep talk thing." He scoffs, the sound lacking in genuine aggression. "What?"
He lifts his gaze from the fire, his eyes settling on some point past the horizon. "I thought you were an Avenger."
You're not sure what bugs you more, the fact that he's so sure he has you all figured out or the implication that the Avengers spend their days encouraging each other instead of actually doing things. What the Avengers are--or maybe were--is so much more than that.
You step forward, further separating you from the cluster of trees. "The Avengers are about a lot more than that."
His attention briefly shifts onto you before returning to the flames. If the silence is meant to be dismissive, it doesn't feel that way. There's a patience there that doesn't suit his usual brooding.
"Do you care if I sit?" The question is forced out before you can overthink it. "I promise no inspirational speeches or small talk."
After a beat, he dips his chin downwards in a nod so subtle you would have missed it if you had been watching him any less carefully. You're more relieved by his acceptance than you should be, your feet carrying you towards the campfire.
You sit at a polite distance, knees bent in front of you. His silence seems to push against the void's sluggishness. Maybe the issue has been you fighting this world's momentum.
"Why are you with him?" You're not sure if you're more shocked by the question or the break in silence. When all you can do is blink, he continues, "You seem--" He subtly clears his throat, as if struggling to admit this next part, "Nice, normal."
Oh. If you had been focused, you likely would have got what he meant without the clarification. "I know Wade's a lot--especially to you." You place a hand against your knee, thinking about that very specific safety you only feel with Wade. You don't have to try at being anything, or worry about earning your keep in any capacity. "But once you get to know him, he's a good friend."
You look away from the fire pit in time to see the skeptical look Logan throws in your direction. "I'm serious." His expression doesn't change. "He um--after I stopped being important to everyone else, he still liked me ." This isn't the conversation you wanted to stumble onto, especially not with someone who you barely know and actively dislikes you. "That sounds kind of dumb, but the point is, he's loyal."
He turns his head back towards the fire. "You always call him by his name." The observation is so stiff you'd consider it hesitant if it came from anyone else.
You've never thought much about Wade's name. Part of it is familiarity, and the rest of it is a force of habit. Even when you were with the Avengers, you preferred using actual names when off duty. It's easier to separate the mask from the person beneath it when you make an active effort to.
You shrug. "I'm not into off duty superhero names, Wolverine."
He falls silent again. You concentrate on the flames, the way they illuminate the world around you. "You can--" He cuts himself off, attention never wavering from the fire. "You can call me Logan, if you want."
An unsteady warmth roots itself in your chest. You didn't expect any sort of kinship between you and the wolverine Wade stole from some other timeline beyond him occasionally accepting your attempts at creating peace between him and Wade.
"Okay," you focus on keeping your tone measured, avoiding any emotions that might startle him, "Logan."
There's no tension in the quiet that follows. You let the minutes pass until you're certain that Wade's waiting for an interruption disguised as an attempt to help. "I should go, Wade's probably waiting for me."
You push yourself to stand. You let yourself glance at him one last time before turning towards the trees you emerged from.
808 notes · View notes
angelfic · 8 months ago
Text
— I MISS YOU, I’M SORRY.
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
summary: you haven’t seen theo since he supposedly left you to join the other side. now that he’s back and has revealed his true intentions to you, you’re finding it hard to be forgiving.
warnings: swearing, kissing, tiniest bit of angst, very unedited. not much else other than a whole load of waffle… my bad
author’s note: this is a sort of fix-it fic… kinda. yes I am very much stealing the essence (you could say) from marauders fics because I prefer writing those and yes it’s basically this drabble recycled and yes grimmauld place is still the order headquarters well into the war just don’t question my timeline and you’ll be fine ok ty enjoy xoxo
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12 Grimmauld place feels unsettling at the best of times, what with the portrait of Walburga Black hurling insults at you every time her curtain slips open and the row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on the wall. The Order of the Phoenix holding hushed up meetings in the dining room while you and your friends are forced to stay upstairs isn’t anything new or surprising, but the last few days feel different.
Instead of Mrs Weasley telling members of the Order to whisper when you, her kids and Harry and Hermione are in the room, she flaps about ordering them to stop talking altogether. At first you think you’re imagining it when her eyes flick over to you every time, until you bring it up to Ginny and Hermione.
“You’re not imagining it,” Hermione mutters as she shuts the door of the bedroom and casts a quick Muffliato charm before settling cross legged on the bed opposite you and Ginny. “I overheard Mrs Weasley and Tonks in the kitchen this morning, talking about how the Order is arranging transport for some Death Eater spies to come back here.”
You gasp, pretending to be scandalised. “You mean you were evesdropping. That’s not very prefect-y of you.” Ginny snorts at Hermione’s indignant glare and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way her cheeks have slightly reddened. “Sorry, sorry, you know I’m kidding. But what’s that got to do with her looking at me like I’ve gone through a personal tragedy?”
“Your ex-boyfriend did leave you to go join the Death Eaters,” Ginny points out. Hermione gapes at her, but Ginny merely throws her hands up in exasperation. “Well, he did! No point beating around the bush!”
A lump rises in your throat at the mention of Theodore. Truth be told, you’ve tried not to think about what happened since the last time you spoke about him. ‘Spoke’ being a strong word since it was mostly crying and sniffling and blowing your nose into tissue after tissue in Ginny’s room at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had made your favourite dinner that night and brought you up a hot chocolate to make you feel better. And it really had- so much so that you refused to speak about him since.
You’re more angry than you are sad now, which makes you nod at Ginny’s words. “You’re right. He’s an arsehole, there’s no point in tip-toeing around it for my sake.” Hermione frowns a little, worry clear as day on her face, but you don’t stop talking. “Besides, we’re on opposite sides and this is a war happening. Not some silly, childish break-up. He chose to be a Death Eater and if we have to fight him, so be it.”
Hermione and Ginny stay quiet for a few seconds and watch you breathe heavily. Thankfully, before either of them can speak, Harry and Ron come bursting into the room.
“They’ve only gone and brought Death Eaters into the bloody building!” Ron shakes his head.
Harry snorts at Ron’s dramatics. “Ex-Death Eaters. Apparently. Still a bit dodgy, in fairness.”
“I thought they were spies,” you say, unable to help your curiosity as you stand up. Ginny and Hermione follow you out of the room as you all peak over the bannister to try and get a glimpse of the action downstairs. Annoyingly, there only seem to be a couple of dishevelled looking Order members milling around.
“Maybe Mrs Weasley and Tonks got it mixed up, or maybe they aren’t privy to what’s going on…” Hermione frowns, deep in thought. “I don’t think anyone but Dumbledore knows what’s actually going on.”
Harry makes an irritated sound. “What’s new?”
“Oh, by the way, Mum sent us up to get you lot for dinner,” Ron says absentmindedly as he tries to get a good look over your shoulder at whatever is happening in the hall downstairs. “Mind you, that was before all the Death Eater business so she’ll probably send us right back up.”
The five of you quickly shuffle downstairs to get to the dining room and while your stomach is growling loud enough to forget any thoughts of Order business, Ron and Harry linger in the hall a little in an attempt to get some answers. You don’t doubt Harry will get some, being the Chosen One and all.
You nudge and elbow your way into the dining room where you’re happily surprised to see a messy-haired Tonks yawning over a bowl of soup. She smiles sleepily when she spots the three of you.
“Hi, girls,” she mumbles through a yawn. “Merlin, I’m exhausted. I keep falling asleep in my soup. Good thing it’s mushroom.” She points to her newly platinum blonde hair that matches the contents of her bowl.
“Why’re you so tired?” Hermione asks as she ladles some soup into bowls for you, Ginny and herself. Her voice is quiet as not to attract attention from Mrs Weasley with her questioning. “Is it to do with tonight’s, uh, Order business?”
“Yep.”
Tonks looks as though she’s about to drift off and Ginny seems to jump at the opportunity to gather information.
“So, what are their names?” She gets straight to the point, glaring at you when you choke on your soup a little, not expecting her to be so blunt.
You and Hermione stop eating and wait with bated breath for Tonks to refuse to answer. She merely yawns again, before talking. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”
“Meet them?” you ask, unable to help yourself. “Aren’t they… uh, you know… dangerous?”
“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to think so,” Tonks says, shrugging. You grow a little frustrated at this, since Dumbledore isn’t exactly known for having straightforward plans. While you know his intentions are good, someone he thinks is safe could very well be the opposite. While you ponder this, Tonks’ next words quickly turn your irritation into shock. “The others were understandably quite wary, what with one of them being You-Know-Who’s son and everything, but…”
You feel a ringing in your ear and every word coming from Tonks may as well be directed to her mushroom soup because you aren’t listening anymore. You-Know-Who’s son. You haven’t seen Mattheo since term ended, and even then it was only from a distance. You hadn’t spoken to him since Theo revealed his Dark Mark to you and you’d since avoided his entire friend group like the plague. If Mattheo is in the building, you can only hope and pray that Theodore isn’t with him.
Vaguely aware of someone shaking you by the shoulder, you snap out of your thoughts. “Who else is with Mattheo?” you ask Tonks, your voice sounding rough to your own ears. She blinks through her sleepiness, slightly startled awake by your unwavering eye contact. “Voldemort’s son. Who’s with him? What do they look like?”
You’re so focused on getting an answer from Tonks, and Hermione and Ginny are clearly on the same page as you now since they’re both silent and waiting for a response, that none of you notice Mrs Weasley entering the dining room.
“Tonks, is he blonde or-?”
“Enough!” Mrs Weasley interrupts you hastily, making everyone jump. She sounds panicked, but the look she throws Tonks is stern, like a warning to keep silent. When she turns back to you however, her eyes soften and her voice is gentle, albeit with a hint of annoyance. “I asked Dumbledore not to bring them here while everyone was awake. I didn’t want you all upset again, dear. Look, you can have your dinner upstairs, I’ll bring it up to you!”
You’re grateful for her concern, but it’s a little hard to feel anything other than the pit in your stomach since she’s just confirmed what you were dreading.
Ginny speaks up first, angry on your behalf. “Mum, she deserves to know if that awful git is in the same house as her! I say she ought to go and deck him in the face.”
“Ginny!” Hermione looks at her in exasperation as Mrs Weasley gasps, horrified. “That sort of attitude isn’t going to help anyone.”
“You’re right,” you mumble, getting up from your seat.
Hermione lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”
“I should go and deck him in the face.”
Hermione’s sputtering falls to deaf ears as you abruptly leave your seat to go out into the hall, the scraping of chairs behind you indicating that everyone is following closely.
Realistically, you have no plans to actually hit Theodore. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever successfully landed a punch before in your life. This doesn’t stop you charging into the hallway and elbowing your way through the huddle of Order members to get to the door they seem to be crowded around.
Kingsley Shacklebolt is the last of them to stumble out of your way, clearly too surprised by your sudden presence to continue guarding the door. You raise a shaky hand to the doorknob and hesitate for a second, suddenly nervous. Kingsley takes this moment to snap out of his surprise and redirects his attentions to what you’re about to do next.
“My dear, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to-”
“Kingsley, do you have any idea why I’m standing here?” you say curtly, cutting him off.
He throws a quick glance at Mrs Weasley, almost as if it’s by reflex. Clearly she’s told more people than Dumbledore to keep word of Theodore far from you. “I, uhm, I may have heard a thing or two…”
“Right, so are you going to stop me entering this room, then?” you ask boldly. Your voice catches slightly on the end of your sentence and Kingsley falters a little.
“Well, really I should-“ he begins, eyes darting to your own slightly teary ones. He sighs. “No, I’m not. Just try not to hex the boy.”
He steps out of your way and you finally barge into room, the door swinging open as you stay lingering near the entrance. The room is just as dingy as the rest of the house, lit up by some candles dotted around the room
You first see Professor McGonagall getting up abruptly from her chair where she was previously sat next to a standing Dumbledore. He merely peers at you over his half moon spectacles and raises his eyebrows.
You suddenly feel a little silly, and rude for barging in like that. “Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I-“
You stop talking when see movement on the other side of the room from the corner of your eye. Just as Tonks had said, Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort is standing right there, flanked by Lorenzo Berkshire… and Theodore. Your mouth goes dry.
As soon as you catch his eye, he smiles broadly at you. You don’t return the gesture, taking his appearance in instead. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him. No visible injuries, but he’s definitely seen better days. His dirty blonde hair is overgrown and unruly as it falls into his eyes which, despite brightening up at your presence, are tired.
You keep your expression as impassive as you can, slightly angry with yourself at the twinge of concern you feel. It was all well and good interrupting whatever meeting was happening in here before you came in, but now that you’re here… you have no idea what to do or say.
Theo’s smile falters when you continue to stand there with clenched fists and a stony face and you’re tempted to just run out of the room when Dumbledore clears his throat.
“Well,” your Headmaster says pleasantly, as though you were all engaged in polite conversation rather than a strained silence. “This reunion was certainly a little earlier than anticipated, but I suppose that can’t be helped. I think we ought to give Mr Nott and Miss Y/L/N a moment alone.”
“Uh, can’t we stay in here too?” Lorenzo asks with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting to the watchful crowd standing right outside the door. You can’t blame him for wary, being an ex-Death Eater in a house full of Order members.
Mattheo nods, throwing an arm around Theodore’s shoulder, ignoring the glare he receives. “Yeah. These two won’t mind a bit of company. Right?” he asks you cheerfully. You blink at him.
“Relax, Berkshire,” Professor McGonagall says, rolling her eyes at the way Lorenzo has inched further into the room. She snaps her fingers to get them moving out the door. “Nobody is going to hex you, you silly boy.”
“Can’t say the same for Theo,” Mattheo mutters as he walks past you and follows everyone out, shutting the door.
You don’t really have any choice but to look at Theo now. He tries a smile again, despite the fact you’re not returning it and he takes a step towards you.
You immediately step back.
Theo flinches ever so slightly, his eyes unable to hide that he’s hurt.
Good, you think viciously.
Sighing, he looks at you imploringly like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. “You’re angry with me,” he settles on muttering, his voice quiet in the dark room.
You let out a derisive laugh. “Angry? You worked that out, huh? Death-Eater’s didn’t completely addle your brain then, did they?”
“Darling, please let me explain,” Theo pleads, taking another few steps towards you.
Rather than stepping back, you whip out your wand and point it right at him. He doesn’t back away, merely raising his hands in surrender and arching an eyebrow as if to ask you if you’re serious. This angers you further.
“Do not call me darling,” you hiss, raising your wand further. Theo doesn’t react, as though he knows you’d never actually use magic to hurt him. Your hand trembles with the weight of the realisation that no, you wouldn’t hurt him. That you’ve actually been more worried that becoming a Death Eater would get him hurt than him betraying you. He left you with nothing but a cold goodbye and you still can’t help caring.
Feeling stupid, and a little bit pathetic, you drop your hand to your side and allow him to continue standing before you as he lowers his hands. You grit your teeth and cross your arms. “Explain.”
Theo lets out a relieved breath. “I never wanted to leave you,” he says, and you immediately roll your eyes. “I- no, look at me. I didn’t.”
“That doesn’t explain the fact that you did,” you deadpan, turning away to leave. Theo quickly reaches out to grasp both of your arms and gently turns you towards him.
You stiffen at the first physical contact you’ve had with him in months, your body betraying you and erupting goosebumps all over your arms in spite of your anger.
“I lied about it to protect you,” he whispers, peering at you through the strands of hair that are stubbornly falling into his eyes from weeks of neglect. Theo looks slightly pained and you recognise his expression to mean that he’s desperately trying to phrase his next words correctly. His eyes flick over to your right arm. No. To his left wrist, where you know his Dark Mark to be. “You can ask Dumbledore if you don’t believe me… Me and the others only ever took the Mark so we’d be able to spy on The D- on him.”
The relief hits you like a freight train and lightens your heavy chest all in one go. You hadn’t just felt betrayed by your boyfriend leaving you all those months ago. You had felt dread at the possibility of him joining a Pureblood supremacist’s cult. Dread at the idea that the views he’d shared with you were all lies and that he was a completely difference person to the one you loved.
Despite the relief, the sting of the breakup still lingers with you.
“That meant you had to be a prick when you left me?” you ask, voice shaking against your will. His eyes soften.
“Yes,” he says weakly. “How else could I have left you without worrying that… that he could use you against me if he found me out? I never wanted to take the Mark and it killed me when I saw the look on your face.”
Your scowl, trying your best to distract Theodore from the fact that your vision has gone blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. By the look on his face, you doubt you’re doing a very good job. “Do you really think I would have cared about a fucking tattoo, if you had just told me the truth?”
“No, I know,” Theo sighs, absentmindedly drawing closer to you. “I’ll explain anything you want, but the work we did was too close to The Dark Lord to risk telling anyone about at the time. Dumbledore made me, Mattheo and Enzo swear not to say anything. It was safer that way.”
“Did you make an Unbreakable Vow?” you whisper, stiller than ever.
Theo furrows his brows. “No, but-”
You pull away from him abruptly and back away to the door, ignoring the way his hands reach out in an attempt to hold your arms again. “Then I hope the information you got for Dumbledore was worth it.”
You don’t look back at him, nor do you check to see if anyone is in the hallway as you run upstairs and into your room, slamming the door shut as you lean against it, breathing heavily. You stay there for a while, reeling from your anger and irritation at the fact you still have to stay in this bloody house while Theodore’s in it.
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The next few days are confusing to say the least. Theo doesn’t seem to have any plans to avoid you, but he respects your space.
Sort of.
He isn’t badgering you every second of the day, but somehow whichever room you’re in, he finds himself in as well. Whenever you try and reach for something, even if it’s not on a particularly high shelf, or particularly far away, Theo beats you to it, ever the gentleman.
It’s starting to unnerve you a little.
One particular afternoon, you walk into the kitchen hoping to make a cup of tea in peace. At the table sits Theo, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. When he spots you, he sits up straighter and you dawdle stupidly at the entrance.
Before you can snap out of it and remember what you came in here for, Theo gets up and walks over to the mugs. “Tea?” he asks politely, and, you think, a little hopefully.
“Will you make it and let me drink it alone?” you ask bluntly.
“I’ll make it and sit with you in silence,” he offers, undeterred despite your coldness.
Narrowing your eyes, you glance at the clock and sigh. It’s too early in the morning to put off having your tea, so you allow it. “Fine. Milk and-”
“Two sugars,” he cuts you off with an annoyingly smug smile. “I remember.”
You poke your cheek with your tongue, but stay silent as he turns his attentions to the kettle. Theo’s face quickly falls when he realises he has no idea how to use it. Your impassive expression almost cracks and you have to bite back a laugh as he examines the thing. Walking over to the counter, you drag the kettle so that it’s closer to you. And so you don’t have to be as close to Theo, but that’s besides the point.
“It’s already filled with water, you just need to flip the switch so it starts boiling,” you explain, pointing to the little part. Theo places his cigarette in between his lips as he furrows his brows, clearly skeptical of the muggle contraption. You suppose you can’t blame him since you, Hermione and Harry have had to explain the kettle to countless members of the Order since it was introduced to the house a few months ago.
You still don’t know where the plug socket is and considering the fact that Grimmauld Place has never inhabited muggles, you aren’t going to bother asking.
When Theo flicks the switch and sees the light turn red, a satisfied smile graces his lips where the cigarette still hangs. You look away from his mouth very quickly and go to sit down. Unable to leave without making things awkward, you decide the only thing to do is watch Theo make two cups of tea. He doesn’t need instruction since he knows exactly how you like it, but something catches in your throat when he uses a green mug. Your favourite colour.
The only sound in the kitchen is the clink of the spoon swirling in the cups and Theo soon brings both cups over with an incredibly concentrated frown to make sure there’s no spillages as he sets one down on the table. The other he hands to you himself and you have to clench your jaw when you grab it, your own hands brushing against his, which he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to move away.
“Thanks,” you mutter, trying to use the burning heat of the mug against your skin to distract from the fact that you have tingles.
“S’alright,” he replies, a barely restrained grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of the mug as you sip your tea.
Damn, you think to yourself. Why is it always so good when he makes it?
The two of you settle into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you drink your tea and he smokes. The puffs are very carefully directed away from you, but you can’t help wrinkling your nose out of habit. Back when you were still together, you were always firm about him cutting down and now you have to restrain yourself from reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his lips to throw it away like you used to do with ease. He never objected.
Theo notices your looks all the same, and it’s almost like he’s reading your thoughts. He raises a brow, almost daring you to remove the cigarette yourself. “You want me to stop?”
“I don’t care,” you say in an attempt to sound nonchalant. Shrugging, you try your hardest not to react to his obvious bait, but it’s like a bloody reflex. “It’s your lungs on the line, not mine. If you want to lose five years off your life, then by all means, go ahead. I really couldn’t care-”
“As you wish,” he interrupts you, grinning like an idiot again. The next thing you know, he’s putting out the cigarette, and sipping his tea instead. He doesn’t even like tea.
“I didn’t say you had to stop,” you grumble, slightly pleased nonetheless.
He merely hums, taking a gulp of his tea. You accidentally let out a snort of laughter when he grimaces at the taste. Theo’s lips quirk up in amusement when you laugh, unrestrained and it’s only when you catch him staring at you that you quickly stop.
The smug expression on his face quickly returns as though he knows you’re finding it hard to be fully angry at him.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap, drawing your knees up on your chair towards your chin. “You look stupid. And your hair is too long.”
Theo huffs out a surprised laugh. “My hair is too long?” he asks incredulously, reaching up to tug a piece down so it reaches the bottom of his nose. “Hm, you’re right. You cut it pretty good that one time. Would you do it again for me?”
“Mrs Weasley is better at it,” you say, chin jutting out stubbornly. “I’m sure she’d be delighted if you just ask.”
“The way she looks at me, I’d be lucky to get away with my head still attached to my body,” he drawls, wholly unimpressed by your suggestion. “Why can’t you do it?”
“Because I’m not done being angry with you yet,” you reply simply, draining the contents of your mug. “Trust me when I say you don’t want me anywhere near your head with a pair of scissors either.”
Theo nods slowly, a smile gracing his lips— strange, since you just threatened physical violence. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to be angry with me forever.”
“I- Well, I didn’t mean-” you stutter pointlessly, cutting yourself off with a sigh. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early for this, leave me alone.”
“That was the first cigarette I’ve had since before I left,” Theo says quietly, searching your face for a reaction, almost nervously.
You aren’t quite sure how to respond to this random piece of information and you find yourself floundering. “Uhm. Okay, good. That’s… Yeah, that’s great for you and your lungs, well done. Saves money too. They were actually, uh, saying on the news the other day that the average amount people spend on-”
“Darling, as much as I appreciate it, that’s not what I’m getting at,” he interrupts, the ghost of a smirk at his lips. You scowl at him for letting you go on for so long and motion for him to get to the bloody point. “Every time I brought a cigarette to my lips, I remembered you weren’t going to be there to nag me about it. It just feels pointless now.”
You stare at him. “Nice to know that my nagging was what you remembered me by.”
“That’s not-” Theo cuts himself off with a laugh that sounds halfway to a groan. “Merlin, you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can get a word out, Harry walks in which you find odd considering it’s so early in the morning and him and Ron are usually only out of bed when Mrs Weasley yells them down for breakfast.
“Morning,” he says through a yawn. The greeting is directed at you, but he sends an expectant look at Theo right after. “Time to leave, Nott.
“Leave for where?” you ask before you can help yourself. You realise with a start that Harry and Theo are dressed and ready while you’re still in your pyjamas. “Where do you have to go?”
“Horcrux hunting,” Harry says flippantly, as though he’s just announced he’s going fishing. Hermione had filled you in on the information Theo and the others had ascertained from their time with Voldemort, but you didn’t even consider them or Harry would actually be going with the Order to find them. “Nott and the others know more than we do, so they’re coming with.”
You level a look at Theo, who seems to be pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. “Thanks for sharing that tiny tidbit of information, by the way,” you mutter sourly.
He winces, getting up slowly from his chair. “It, uh, didn’t seem that important. It’s only a quick little task anyway. We’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’m not stupid,” you scoff, standing up so you can attempt to look a little more dignified as you confront Theo. Harry, on the other hand, looks as though he regrets his decision to enter the kitchen in the first place. Despite this, you hadn’t missed the way he furrowed his brows when Theo spoke. “Even if Harry wasn’t looking at you like you were speaking gibberish, I would know that you’re lying. It’s a Horcrux you’re leaving to get. Not the weekly food shop.”
Harry snickers at this, though quickly turns it into a cough when Theo sends him a withering glare. Sighing, you decide to ignore him for the moment and turn to Harry instead
“Be safe,” you say, gentler than before. “And don’t be a hero, just try and get out of there safely.”
“Pfft,” Harry waves you off, a sarcastic tone entering his voice. “When have you known me to do that?”
You roll your eyes, cracking a smile as he walks away, supposedly to find the rest of the group.
“Don’t I get a ‘be safe’ as well?” Theo tries for a casual, joking voice. A hint of irritation seeps through it though. You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, slightly flustered at his obvious jealousy.
“Uhm, okay. Bye,” you say stiffly, fiddling with the loose string of your cardigan sleeve so you have something to do with your hands other than ball them up at your sides. Theo seems to be satisfied with the curt response, or more likely your lack of insults, and he nods, turning away to leave. As you watch him walk away, a familiar sense of anxiety bubbles up in your stomach and you blurt out the only thing you can think of. “Don’t die!”
He slowly turns around, very clearly holding back a grin. You think you might thump the boy. “Will you forgive me if I come back alive?”
“Well,” you huff, crossing your arms. As petty as it may be, you’ve always found it hard to loosen a grudge. You settle for a shrug instead. “Come back alive first and then I’ll see.”
Theo takes two steps forward and closes the short distance that was previously allowing you to keep a cool- well, cool-ish, head. He keeps both arms behind his back, however, as he dips his head down slightly.
“My sweet, stubborn girl,” Theo says in a low voice. His proximity flounders you for a moment and you don’t even protest that no, you’re not his anything. The way your breathing turns shallow would be contradicting that greatly though. “I’ll try my best. And if I don’t come back alive, I promise you can yell at my ghost.”
You scowl, and this time you actually do thump him on the arm. “You’re not funny, you idiot. Now, go. I can already hear Mattheo irritating the patience out of Harry.”
Theo gives you a little two-fingered salute and a wink before he walks away again, leaving you alone with a funny feeling in settling in your stomach.
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You aren’t the only one who sits anxiously in the living room waiting for the group to return with the infamous Horcrux. Ron has eaten his way through three bowls of cereal and rapidly makes a start on his fourth while Hermione tries to distract herself with reading a book that she hasn’t noticed is upside down.
After another hour goes by, Ginny, who was previously pacing up and down the stairs, sighs and turns Hermione’s book the right way up which startles her, causing her to give up altogether.
You sit cross-legged and completely still, other than switching your legs every time one of them goes numb. Eventually, you get so sick of watching Mrs Weasley mop over the same spot on the floor for the fifth time that you jump up from your seat, causing her to start and knock over the bucket of dirty mop water all over the floor.
“Oh, dear,” she mutters, waving her wand and siphoning all the water up in a second.
“Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” you say, wincing. “I’m just a little stressed since it’s been ages already-”
You get cut off by Hermione gasping at the sound of the front door opening along with voices. She grips your arm tightly. “They’re back!”
Barely registering the pain of her nails digging into the skin of your arm, you waste no time in running into the hall with the others to greet everyone at the door. You can’t help the relieved smile on your face when you do a quick head count and find everyone present.
As you get closer, you see how exhausted they look. Not to mention the fact they’re dripping water all over the rug. Harry stands at the front of the group looking like he might collapse if he stands any longer and Hermione and Ron pick up on this as they rush over to help him inside.
As they stumble him across the hall, you stop craning your neck as Theo comes into view. The relief you previously felt leaves you faster than your body knows how to deal with and you have to force yourself to breathe when you take in the state of him.
At first glance he doesn’t look particularly worse than the rest. They all have a vaguely haunted look in their eyes along with a sickly pallor like they haven’t seen the sun in days.
But the way Mattheo and Lorenzo are holding him up brings attention to the fact that all of his weight is being put on one leg. The other, to your horror, has a deep, bloody gash trailing down his thigh and onto his calf. The sight of blood steadily dripping onto the floor below has you frozen, almost mesmerised in a terrible way, and it’s not until Dumbledore speaks that you snap out of it and to attention.
“Miss Y/L/N, if you could please fetch Madam Pomfrey for me,” Dumbledore asks, his voice a lot calmer than you feel. You nod, turning away quickly before Theo can see the panic which is probably clear as day on your face.
It takes a scary second to find Madam Pomfrey, but as soon as you do, she gets down to business preparing her supplies in the living room which is as far as Theo seems to be able to make it.
He lays on the sofa, breathing shallowly as Madam Pomfrey crouches down beside him to begin assessing the wound. Peering at it closely, she looks up at Dumbledore sharply. “Inferi?”
“I’m afraid so,” he replies solemnly and you let out a choked sort of whimper.
“Merlin,” Ron whispers, looking like he might be sick. Whether that’s because Madam Pomfrey is cleaning Theo’s leg, or because of the mention of Inferi, you aren’t sure. “What the hell were you guys doing?”
“All will be explained, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore reassures him, looking over his spectacles. “However, I must insist that for now we allow dear Madam Pomfrey to tend to Mr Nott’s injuries.”
“Will you be able to heal him?” Mattheo asks, swallowing hard. The concern in his voice for his best friend has your heart clenching and you look to Madam Pomfrey just as earnestly for an answer.
“Yes, I dare say I can,” Madam Pomfrey says grimly, but she pulls out a couple little bottle of potions from her bag with a frown. “That doesn’t mean it won’t be extremely painful, unfortunately.”
“Can’t imagine what pain feels like,” Theo mumbles, shifting his position on the sofa slightly and wincing. His face goes whiter than before and he shuts his eyes tightly from the pain, but he still manages to talk, however hard it may be. “Not like I’ve just had Inferi mistaking my leg for their lunch.”
“No talking and no moving,” Madam Pomfrey instructs Theo, sending him a stern glare.
“Sorry-”
“Shhh!” you hiss, giving him a glare of your own. Theo’s eyes flutter open slightly and his lips quirk up when he sees you leaning over him as close as you can get without Madam Pomfrey shooing you away.
His smile quickly drops when Madam Pomfrey pours some purple liquid into the open wound, causing it to hiss and smoke. The groan that leaves Theo has you holding your breath and you fight the urge to shut your eyes and turn away.
“Merlin, I can’t watch,” Lorenzo gags, his skin turning even sicklier than before. Turning away, he holds onto Mattheo’s shoulder to steady himself, the latter looking more interested than anything as he peers at Theo’s sizzling cut. Lorenzo shakes his head and holds a hand over his mouth every time he can hear Madam Pomfrey pouring more of the potion. “Oh, God, that’s disgusting.”
“Mr Berkshire, if you are unable to watch, then don’t,” Madam Pomfrey snaps, screwing the bottle shut and grabbing another one. She waves her hand in an impatient shooing motion. “In fact, everyone out. Now! This isn’t a Quidditch match, for heaven’s sake!”
Dumbledore starts filing everyone out and you consider staying for a minute but Madam Pomfrey’s raised eyebrows have you hurtling out of the room with everyone else. Theo starts to say something, but a drop of something else makes him grit his teeth and the green smoke produced by the potion follows you out the door.
The next hour or so is filled with Harry, Mattheo and Lorenzo being fussed over by Mrs Weasley, who insists on them going up to bed once they’ve cleaned up and changed into dry clothing. Unfortunately for the rest of you, this means you won’t be getting an update any time soon. Dumbledore is, as always these days, nowhere to be seen.
“I wonder if they found the Horcrux,” you say under your breath to Hermione as she anxiously taps her foot against the kitchen floor.
“They did,” she says grimly, glancing impatiently at the clock. She has her thinking face on, brows furrowed and gaze distant. “It was in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Harry quickly told me before Mrs Weasley sent them off. I wonder when they’ll wake up though… They didn’t look too happy, and I have a feeling it wasn’t all to do with Nott.”
You nod slowly, a weight lifting off your chest despite the last part. If, after all this, they hadn’t retrieved the Horcrux, you think you’d probably have gone to the bloody cave yourself.
“Theodore’s resting now, anyway,” Hermione adds, giving you a quick glance as though she’s waiting for a reaction. You keep your face as impassive as you can, attempting a casual nod. “Madam Pomfrey says he’s healing nicely and his leg will be fine. It’ll just be a bit sore for a few days. I’m sure he’s awake if you want to go see him.”
“I might,” you mumble, shrugging. You try to sound flippant, but the urge to clamber out of your seat probably shows because Hermione rolls her eyes at you.
“Oh, why don’t you just put him out of his misery?” she asks, her words coming out at the speed of light, like she’s been wanting to say it for a while. You blink at her in shock. Sighing, she leans over the table and her tone becomes gentle. “I know he lied to you, and you should be angry with him for that! But… well, it’s been a really awkward few days with him asking us where you are every second of the day. And, technically, he was never really a Death Eater, he was helping our side!”
Hermione takes a deep breath and exhales, slumping back in her seat as she waits for your reaction. You try not to laugh. “How long have you been holding that one in?”
“Since the second he turned up here,” she says, sagely. “Now, don’t change the subject! Go and see him. Go on, off you go!”
You stand up, swiftly dodging Hermione’s flapping hands to try and rush you out the door. “Okay, I’m going. It’s probably about time anyway,” you grumble, a fond smile creeping up on you nonetheless.
Looking satisfied, Hermione stops trying to usher you out and you make your way over to the living room again. The door is open and you sigh with relief when you notice the room is empty, bar Theo who’s in the same position as he was the last time you saw him. His eyes are shut and you wonder if he’s sleeping until you step on a creaky floorboard and he cracks one eye open.
“Hey,” you say quietly, tip-toeing into the room to perch on the coffee table adjacent to the sofa. “Did I wake you?”
“Nah,” Theo replies, moving to sit up as much as he can. You suspect he’d have the same answer even if he was asleep. He looks a lot more awake than he did before and you feel your chest squeeze tightly when you realise how glad you are. Theo seems to notice this and he reaches over to hold one of your hands, detaching it from the way you grasp them both together. “I promised you I’d come back alive, didn’t I?”
You snort, shaking your head at his ability to be so chipper. “Alive and dripping blood all over the carpet. You know if Kreacher finds out it was you, he’ll murder you in your sleep, right?”
“It doesn’t count if I die now,” Theo protests, frowning as if you’re talking about a serious possibility and not joking. “Deal was you’d forgive me if I came back alive after finding the Horcrux, remember?”
“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think deeply about it as he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. It causes you to momentarily lose your focus. “What I remember saying is that I would think about it.”
Theo shakes his head, a look of mock concern overtaking his features. “I think the stress of my injury has gotten to your memory… What I remember is you vowing to forgive me the moment I stepped foot in this place.”
“I think Madam Pomfrey’s painkillers are getting to you,” you say drily, moving to kneel on the floor next to him.
“She didn’t use any,” Theo grumbles, looking mournfully at the bandages on his leg. “She’s really sadistic, I’m telling you.”
You laugh, ducking your head so you aren’t flustered by the way Theo’s eyes focus on your smile with a grin of his own.
“You know what she told me would help with the pain?” Theo asks quietly, his enviously long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones as he looks down at you, almost nervously.
“Let me guess,” you say, sitting up so the distance between your faces is much shorter now. “A kiss to make it all better?”
“Healer’s orders,” he says, shrugging. His breathing quickens when you don’t move away and he swallows hard, eyes dropping lower to your mouth when you bite your lip to stop from cracking a smile. “I’m not saying you have to, but if you’re okay with going directly against her orders, then-”
You cut him off by pressing a lingering kiss to his lips and he inhales sharply, unmoving for a split second before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Theo’s hands move to your waist where he uses his remaining strength to hoist you up onto the sofa next him, one of your legs thrown over his waist as you half-straddle him.
You gasp into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip and the sound he makes in the back of his throat has your cheeks warming up and you kiss him harder. The fact it’s been so long since you’ve even been near him has you both kissing for what feels like hours and you only pull away when you need to breathe and you’re worried you’re leaning on Theo’s leg.
Pulling away, you scan Theo’s face and pause for a second to take in his beautiful features. His eyes are blown wide like he can’t believe he’s here with you, kissing you. A warm feeling starting in your stomach spreads all the way down to the tips of your fingers as he looks at you.
“Any other very important requests from the Healer?” you ask breathlessly, feeling a shiver run down your spine where Theo lightly skims his fingers. A dangerous smile overtakes his face and his lips, pink and swollen from kissing you, curve up, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.
“I think she mentioned something about a sponge bath?”
You whack his arm and he yelps, grabbing your wrist to stop you assaulting him further. “Hey, I’m an injured patient!”
“Your leg is injured, not your arm.”
“It is now,” he says, pouting as he rubs dramatically at his bicep where you lightly thumped him. He grumbles when you roll your eyes and press another kiss to his lips to get him to stop pouting. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“Hm,” you hum, settling your face in his chest and sighing at the warmth of his arms, feeling him smile against your forehead where he kisses you.
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© angelfic 2023.
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satxnsupreme666 · 20 days ago
Text
Love in the darkest hour: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader x Rio Vidal
Masterlist
Requested by: @perfectartisanwerewolf
Summary: During Agatha´s trial, you are the one that gets possessed, Rio and Agatha get protective of you but you end up getting hurt, your girlfriends feel guilty and all of the wicthes get worried about you.
Warnings: Reader gets hurt, mention of wounds, broken bones, angst and fluff,  I think that´s it (Oh, and English is not my first language but I still try hard to check my own grammar)
Word count:  6k+
Author’s notes: In this story Alice does not die.
Hello, this was a requested story, and I wanted to write it before posting the final old stories I wrote three years ago, sorry that I took three days to write this and that is not longer, but I will be honest, I divide my time between doing nothing at all or doing everything at the same time (that means writing, reading, listening to some music, playing something, watching a movie etc.)
I hope this is what you were waiting for @perfectartisanwerewolf ♥️
I hope you like it! ♥️
If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really ♥️
Taglist: @midnight-lestrange  @eliscannotdance
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“We’re ok” Agatha announced after all of you had had to fly away from the Salem seven, it had been close, really close, all of you really needed to be more careful, you still were worried about those entities trying to get Agatha, she had told you that you didn’t need to worry about, but still, you didn’t want that something happened to Agatha.
“No, we’re not, the entire Halloween aisle’s outside waiting for us” Maybe Jenn was right, could they be really outside?
“Well it doesn’t look like they can get in, does it? All we have to do is complete the trial and continue on before they can get us” Her sentence seemed to calm everyone a little bit, Jenn seemed to relax a little.
“My spell book, I can’t find it!” The teen started to look inside his little bag.
“Where’d you have it last time?” Lilia tried to reason with him so he could think clearly.
“Flying on a broom” The teen sounded sad, so you went towards him and put your hand on his shoulder, you felt bad for him, you wanted to reassure him somehow.
“Forget about it, you can take the training wheels off” The older witch said to him still standing in front of the door.
The teen looked at you and Lilia with a sad expression.
“Hey it’s alright, Agatha’s right, you don’t need it, all of those spells that were on your notebook are also there inside your head, you know all of them, so don’t worry alright?” He seemed to understand because he quickly smiled at you and nodded.
Agatha saw the interaction with a smile on her face, she loved how you were be able to make everyone feel better; you knew how to cheer someone up, you could not only heal physical wounds, but also wounds that were not visible and that only hurt people emotionally.
You sensed someone watching you and turned to look at the direction where you sensed the gaze on you, Agatha was looking at you from her place, she was staring at you with so much love, she winked at you and smiled back at her.
“Look at you!” The teen suddenly said to you, you looked back at him and then at your clothes, noticing the style of the clothes that you were wearing, it was kind of like the ones in the slasher movies you liked to watch.
Looking back at the teen in front of you, you noticed his shirt and shorts as well, glancing back at the other witches you realized they were wearing the same clothing style, same thing that had happened during the last trials, you still wondered when would be your trial and what theme would it be, would it have a creepy vibe? With maybe a haunted house? Or maybe an abandoned house in the middle of a forest? A hill? You were excited to find out.
“You look like one of the teens from those eighties and nineties slasher movies” You had to tell him, if not you knew the idea would never leave your mind.
He took a glance at his clothes and then at the surroundings, he could not deny that you were right, all of you looked like one the main characters of a slasher movie set in the 80’s or 90’s, he remembered something so suddenly that he had to take you by your shoulders, you giggled before he even had the chance to say what had crossed his mind.
“Oh my god, y/n I have the perfect playlist for this!” You grinned and saw how he moved his hands to his sides, as if he was trying to find something, he pursed his lips and looked back at you.
“Right, I forgot, I don’t have my phone either” He sounded a little bit annoyed but smiled at the end anyway.
“You don’t even have pockets remember” you were right, he should have remembered that first.
Rio had heard your comment about the slasher movies and turned herself to look at him, she smirked and walked closer to the two of you.
When she saw you from behind, she noticed that you were wearing clothes that were similar to hers and her eyes looked you up and down, when she got closer to you, she passed her arms around your waist and pulled you closer to her, you instinctively rested your head against her chest.
The teen noticed the smirk on Rio’s face which only made him squirm, Rio scared him, her deadly stare made him grimace.
“Hey, she is right, you do look like a character in a slasher movie from the 80’s, you would be the first character to die at the start of the movie” She said to him while staring without blinking and on top of that, the smirk had never disappeared from her face.
You couldn’t help but giggle at her comment, slightly you patted her chest, the teen swallowed hard and blinked several times trying to laugh awkwardly.
“That is not something nice to say Vidal, don’t mess with him, you scare him” You said to her with a pout on your face.
“She does not scare me” The teen replied back, but Rio turned her head hastily at him and bit into the air, as if she was warning him that she could bite him, the teen jumped slightly.
“Maybe just a little” The dark-haired boy commented being wary of Rio.
“Don’t mind her” Was what you said to him while looking at him with a smile on your face.
“I think you would be one of the final boys that make it to the end of the movie” The boy in front of you seemed to think about it and nodded, he seemed convinced that he would actually be a final girl, and you didn’t doubt it, he smiled fondly at you, and Rio started to caress your back.
“Who would you think I’ would be in a slasher movie set on the 80’s sweetheart?” Rio asked you rising her right eyebrow.
You brought your hand to your chin and acted as if you were in deep thought, but of course, you already had your answer.
“You would be the killer, the killer everyone suspects but cannot actually prove it” You said out lout and the teen gasped.
“She is right, you would be the killer” You had not noticed that the other witches had walked towards you, they were already near you and were looking at you with small smiles on their faces.
Even if they did not trust Agatha at all, and were a little bit scared of Rio because of her antics, they find you really adorable.
In their minds they still could not comprehend how someone as sweet as you, who only used magic to heal people, was with the other two witches.
They still did not understand what a healing witch whose magic was as pure as the meaning of white lilies was doing with Agatha Harkness, former user of the darkhold and with Rio, the witch who did not care about anything and seemed to be so scary, the same woman who agreed on being a “psycho” with a big smile on her face.
Even if they did not comprehend it at all, they could see the way the two witches acted around you, and the way they treated you, they were soft with you, you were the only one that could see and had the privilege to see that side of them, you felt really lucky.
Rio turned her head back at the teen and tilted her head slightly.
“If I was the killer, you would be my first victim, you would not even make it to the second act” Your girlfriend said as if she was just saying facts.
“That is not right Rio, I am pretty sure he would be one of the few that actually makes it to the end” Rio cackled and you tilted your head to give her a disapproving look.
“Ah, fine, he would make it to the end” This deep down made the teen jump internally, it made him feel excited that she had admitted that.
Rio gave you a playful pat on your shoulder.
“Let me look for Agatha, we don’t want her to cause more trouble do we?” She winked at you and left your side.
Alice then came to stand next to the teen, with a curious look on her face.
“Who would I be in a slasher movie?” She inquired looking excited to know your answer.
Examining her carefully you came to the only conclusion that seemed accurate for Alice.
“I think you would be the main character, the protagonist who is tortured and stalked by the killer, because she was the only one who escaped, you would be one of the original final girls, the final girl who fights back, like Laurie Strode on Halloween” Her eyebrows were risen and nodded her head in understanding.
“Yeah, she is totally right, you would be a total badass” The teen agreed with you. Alice beamed with happiness and pressed her hands together.
“You heard that?” Alice asked glancing at Jenn and Lilia.
“I am not really a fan of horror movies, so I really don’t know what you are talking about” Explained Jenn and Lilia nodded her head in a way of showing she felt the same.
Smiling at them you started to explain everything “It’s fine, basically, the horror or slasher movies tend to have a series of “rules” that characterize them, one thing for the slasher movies is for example, that there is a killer-“
“Sometimes there are two killers” The teen quickly said.
“Or sometime yes there are two killers, who usually start their murder spree killing different characters, and the final girl is the character who makes it to the end of the movie and defeats the villain” You finished your explanation.
“Who do you think Agatha would be?” The teen inquired.
“I would say that because of her personality traits she would be the killer that no one suspects of, I mean she is smart, charming” The four of them nodded in agreement.
“And who would you be?” The boy asked you again.
“I would be the character who dies at the start” You simply said, and they all started to discuss that in fact that would not be true.
“I think you would be the character that everyone is attached to, like the character who is friends with everyone and who also everyone tries to protect, you know? also I can see how you would be close to the final girl and you would get extra protection” The teen said and put a finger on his chin, looking at you, analyzing you, you only smiled at him and shook your head.
“Is this how people really looked at the time? I mean, the clothing style, the vibe, all of it?” You wondered out loud and jumped when you felt someone hugging you from behind, you felt the arms of Rio pulling you closer to her.
“Yes, people actually dressed up like this” Agatha said behind you, and all of you turned to look at her, she had kind of a disheveled look, he hair up in a ponytail and the oversized purple shirt fitted her amazingly.
“Whose trial is this?” Asked the teen while looking up at the ceiling.
Rio looked at the window in front of you and you did the same thing, the blood moon could be perfectly seen since your position.
“Agatha’s” answered the witch holding you from behind, you were a little bit worried, so you turned your head to look at Agatha, she saw your worried expression and gave you a reassuring smile, it was a tad scary for her, but with you and Rio there by her side, she knew the trial would be easily passed, or at least, that’s what she hoped.
Hearing Lilia’s explanation about the blood money and the believe of a misconception she mentioned, everyone turned around to look at their beeping watches in their wrists.
“The road wants us to Ouija” The teen showed all of you the board, and everyone started to gather closer, then he proceeded to read the rules.
“Number two, do not speak over each other” And all the witches began to speak over each other, clearly not realizing what they were doing.
Rio and you heard clearly when Agatha demanded to be shown the rules to see if it actually said that and you couldn’t help but share an amused look with her,
Rio shook her head smiling and sticking her tongue out a little, you tried to hide your laugh but you couldn’t, Agatha realized who was laughing and she looked at you, you were next to her left and Rio was next to you.
“What?” Agatha asked with feigned innocence, and you just shrugged your shoulders.
“What is so funny doll?” Agatha asked again and came closer to you to caress your hair, you unconsciously leant into her touch, and let her guide you to rest your head on her chest.
“I love the way you look in those clothes” She commented dangerously close to your ear witch a husky voice.
“Not the time for that” You replied amused, you had to focus on passing the trial.
“Shall we start?” Agatha seemed to tense and you saw the way she started to swallow, it was obvious that she was nervous, the teen sat on the floor and the other witches started to do the same forming a circle.
“Hey, are you alright?” You asked her while she squeezed your hands, you felt the way she pulled you closer to her, and you happily leant into her touch.
“I will be alright, don’t worry” She said to you in a whisper.
“Rio and I are here for you, you know?” You replied back at her and she nodded with a smile in her face.
“I know, thank you, I love you so much” Agatha said near your ear and she pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Let’s get started” She said, you did not notice the way Agatha nodded at Rio, Rio understood and Agatha took your hand one more time to hand you to Rio, Agatha gave you one last squeeze and Rio took your hand in hers, the brown-eyed woman smiled reassuringly at Agatha and put her arm around your waist, she pushed you slightly and placed you next to her right, while Agatha sat next to you as well, leaving you in the middle of the two of them.
Everyone on the room put their hands on the board and waited for Agatha to start, when her hands got separated from the board you really got scared and quickly turned your head to look at Rio, she saw your worried expression and quickly mouthed a “Don´t worry” and smiled slightly at you.
“She´s scared” Commented Rio while you sighed in relief, for a moment you had thought your girlfriend had been possessed, Rio then patted the sit ordering Agatha to come and sit again.
“Do not do that, it was funny, but you got her scared” Rio said to Agatha and nodding towards you, while the blue-eyed woman sat back next to you and she gave you a shy smile.
“Sorry love, I thought it was funny” The older witch commented with an apologetical look.
Sighing you just shook your head and slightly bumped your shoulders against her.
“It alright, I just do not want anything to happen to you” Rio then looked back at her and nodded, she felt the same even if she found her little joke funny.
“Alright” The blue-eyed woman proceeded to place her hands on the board and everyone did the same, you were not going to lie, feeling the board moving so hard and faster made your heart beat in fear, you never had played it and it actually made you feel scared, but you knew you had to do it in order to pass the trial.
“Punish Agatha” Was what the board said and you quickly felt yourself getting tense, but before someone could actually understand what was happening you heard Agatha yelling at everyone to stop it and you were not sure what or how it happened but Agatha got her hands off the board and you panicked.
The scream that was all over the place, was so loud and it pierced you ears.
You saw her getting to the floor and she covered her ears just as everyone else did, but you were still worried of what could happen to your girlfriend since it was her trial, so you uncovered you ears not caring if the loud sound made your ears hurt and went to kneel next to Agatha to check if she was fine and did not have any type of physical wounds.
Agatha noticed your face contorted in pain, but her heart melted when she realized you were checking her to make sure she was not hurt, out of instinct she uncover her ears and made sure your ears were covered using her own hands, even in the middle of the chaos she still managed to show you how much she cared for you.
You were so lost in her eyes that you did not even notice when things calmed down, the scream could not be heard anymore and the things flying around the room were already scattered all over the floor.
“Is it over?” Your eyes stared to examine the room and the witches around you, getting closer and closer, what happened?
“Sorry y/n, but it seems like in order to pass this trial we have to punish Agatha” Jenn was looking right at Agatha, her gaze not darting somewhere else.
“There has to be another way” The teen said out loud and you agreed with him.
“Wait no! You cannot just decide that you are going to hurt her” You said to the three witches in front of you, your pleading eyes started to get glossy, they could not actually think that this was their way out right? Even if the ghost or whatever was wanted that, there had to be another way.
The teen looked horrified about what could happen, it was clearly they were not thinking clearly and with Rio walking faster towards the two of you, he panicked as well.
“I am sorry but you have to move” Jenn said with what you thought maybe, just maybe was guilty.
Alice was unsure, they were not actually going to do something to Agatha right? She looked at Lilia who had the same unsure look on her face.
Your pleading eyes with tears about to be shed made them feel unsure on what to do, they knew that you loved her and you would not be able to do anything to her, but what if that was what the ghost wanted them to do?
Before they got the time to get closer to you Rio appeared in front of the two of you and got her knife out of wherever she hid it, you were always amazed because whenever you saw her getting something out of her pockets or her clothes, you never really understood where she hid all of the things she carried with her.
“No one is touching Agatha, nor y/n” She said with a firm tone.
Agatha caressed your back and nodded at you, she gave you a reassuring smile and squeezed your hand.
“It´s alright, don´t worry, nothing is going to happen to me, ok” She pressed her forehead against you and you nodded, Agatha then stood up and came up behind Rio.
“Listen, we can talk about it and see what other options we have, let´s not get wild” She said trying to be reasonable, but then a sound was heard from your spot, and everyone turned to where the sound had come from.
“Where is she?” The teen asked with his eyes wide open, the witches started to turn themselves around looking for you.
“Sweetheart? Where are you?” Agatha asked out loud, and everyone started to move to different directions trying to see if they could catch a glimpse of where were you.
“We have to find her! She was right there and the next second she was not, how is that even possible?”  Your girlfriend Agatha started to panic, it was something weird when it came to her, being panicked was not a state she was used to, but when it come to you or Rio, she could not help but worry more than anything.
“Hey, look at me, we are going to find her, she could not have gotten too far” Rio reassured her and Agatha nodded, she was right, you could not have gotten too far.
They all gasped in unison when the lights went out.
“Hey, we were not going to actually hurt your girlfriend Agatha, just come out wherever you are” The potions which announced while she examined the room.
The teen started to look for something that they could use to get some light, and when he found a lamp, he looked pleased, now it would be easier to look for you.
“Hey, does anyone hear that” Lilia inquired and the teen felt something that had touched his shoulder, he visibly tensed and pointed the lamp towards the ceiling.
The scream that came after seeing you was inevitable, the other witches looked up as well and started to scream as well.
“Oh my god, what happened to her?” Jenn screamed and walked back until she hit one of the walls.
“Agatha get her out of the ceiling!” Alice yelled at her.
“I would if I had my powers!” Agatha yelled back; her face was full of worry.
“She is going to get hurt” Lillia declared while covering her mouth with her hand.
What they were not waiting, was that you jumped from the ceiling, landing with a hard thud against the floor.
“Is she hurt? Someone please check her!” Alice yelled again
“She is not y/n” The teen screamed when suddenly your body got up from the fall and started to contort your body, he squirmed and crawled back to try to protect himself from what he was seeing in front him.
“She is possessed for real” The teen was horrified, the look you had on your face was clearly not something he was expecting, he just hoped that neither of you would get hurt.
“Someone needs to grab her!” Someone in the back yelled, but due to everyone screaming the teen did not even recognize whose voice it was.
“No! wait, she could get hurt! No one is touching her!” Rio glanced menacingly.
“Then how can we help her?!” Agatha asked desperately, she came to place herself next to Rio, the two of them wanted to actually try and do something, maybe catch you and bring you to the center, but the way your body was contorting made them afraid that they could hurt you more.
“Oh my god guys, why are her bones sounding like that?” The teen screamed out of fear at the sound of your cracking bones, you were getting too close to him when suddenly your body for some seconds went limp and crashed against the floor, they were going to go and help you but after only some seconds your body stood up again crashing against the wall, Lilia was quick to get the power back and in a blink of an eye, you disappear again.
“Where is she? Where is she?” Rio looked several times around the room trying to see if you were again on the ceiling.
Before the withes could have more time to look for you, they saw something that looked like white fog forming in front of the stairs.
“That is a ghost, I hate ghosts” Rio said completely angered, Agatha was next to her looking at it with her brows furrowed, where had you gone?
What Agatha saw next made her gasp; her mother had materialized in front of them.
“Mother?” Agatha asked not believing what her eyes were watching.
A sound caught their attention and they looked up to see what was going upstairs, there you were, Agatha sighed in relief but after the worry could be gone, it took over her again, you were trying to stand up, grabbing your left arm with your right hand, you were crying, your sobs were loud enough for them to hear.
“What did you do to her?” Rio asked angrily taking a step forward, and Agatha did the same.
“You have to keep walking the witches´ road without her” The ghost of Evanora Harkness said to them.
Everyone gasped in shock.
“No way, we are not leaving her with you, she comes with us” Agatha said with a firm tone, never hesitating.
“Leave this girl with me, then you will be free to go” The ghost replied.
Lilia, Alice, Jenn and the teen looked at each other, they were not going to leave you there with her, and if they also needed to fight a ghost even if they did not how, they would do it.
“Taking one of the people I love the most?” Agatha laughed bitterly at the thought.
“There is no way we are leaving her with you!” Rio replied back at the ghost with a threatening tone in her voice.
“We are not letting her stay with her, you hear me? She is going to leave with us Agatha” Rio assured the blue-eyed woman.
“It is your time to pay for what you have done, you were born evil, you should not have a chance at love, I repeat, leave her with me, and you can go” Agatha clenched her jaw, Rio who was next to her was fuming, even if they wanted to do something, what could they do against a ghost?
You were crying, your whole body in pain, you were sure you were going to have bruises, you could not even lift your arm and you wondered if maybe it had been broken.
You heard everything Evanora said to her, that she was evil, but that was not true, Agatha was not evil, she was a misunderstood witch who did not have anyone to back her up and show her to control her powers, and even if you were in pain you would let your girlfriend know that her mother was not right.
“Do not listen to her Agatha, we know you are not evil, you are worthy of love” You managed to say between sobs, Agatha did not have time to answer to you, because her mother spoke again.
“I will not repeat myself” The ghost announced.
Agatha could not help the tears falling from her face, it was all her fault you were in pain, her own fault that you had been possessed by her mother, she was being punished for al the things she had done in the past, seeing you in so much pain was breaking he heart, Rio was so mad, it infuriated her seeing you and Agatha both in pain.
Before they could do something else, the ghost disappeared and they watch the way your body started to contort again, you came crawling down the stairs, the witches watched in horror.
“Leave her alone” The witch with the red strands on her hair pushed the teen, Agatha and Rio to the side, all of them saw Alice throwing her powers at you.
“Don´t hurt her!” Agatha shouted ready to go and push Alice away from you, but the teen and Rio stopped her, and watched they way your body return to your normal form, the paleness leaving your skin, and the white fog dissipated.
After some minutes Alice stopped, and you felt to the floor with a loud thud, you quickly started to groan in pain, trying to get up from the floor.
Agatha and Rio ran towards you to help you stand up.
“It hurts so much” You said to them still crying, Agatha could not take in how much pain you were, she did not want to hurt you more, but they needed to check your body.
“I know sweetheart, we know it hurt but we have to touch you to check your body alright?” Rio whispered to you in a reassuring way, it pained her too much too see you suffering.
They tried to help you stand up, but the pain in your body was too much, Agatha could see the bruises forming on your legs and on your arms, and seeing the way your arm had taken a really weird position, she knew it was broken.
“Baby, can you tell us where it hurts?” You heard Rio asking you, her voice sounded a little bit shaky.
“My arm, is what hurts the most” Yous said between sobs, you wanted the pain to stop, but you knew that even healing yourself was going to hurt a lot.
“I think… I think I can try to heal it but, but I am scared, it is going to hurt so much” Agatha turned her head to look at Rio, she closed her eyes, your sobs made her so hard to maintain a hard façade as always.
“Listen, we are here with you, we are not letting you go, you can take my hand and squeeze it as hard as you want, alright?” Agatha said before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
Rio placed herself next to Agatha, the blue-eyed woman placed you on her lap, and Rio put her hands on your back, caressing you up and down.
The witches standing in front of you, could not also take the sight, the teen had to look away, he could not stand seeing you crying from pain, and the way your arm was positioned, made him feel uneasy.
Lilia was holding Alice´s hand, watching with glossy eyes, they could not believe that you were the one that had got hurt, Jenn wanted to do something to help you ease the pain, but nothing came to her mind.
 You clung to Agatha´s shirt, and focused hard on the pain you were feeling, Rio never stopped running her hands up and down on your back, trying to soothe you and waiting the pain would stop.
“Everything will be alright, you are going to be fine, we love you so much” Agatha said into your ear, you were trembling and she hated so much that she could not anything.
After several minutes of sobbing harder, you felt you arm getting back to its normal position, your magic had worked, the powers accommodating the bones, putting them in their normal place, Agatha was caressing your legs with her free hands and noticed the bruises disappearing.
With one final breath, you felt yourself relaxing, the pain going away completely, and when Agatha and Rio were sure you were not hurting anymore, a door opened, all of you looked at it.
“We passed the trial” The teen said out loud, they were relieved you had stopped crying, but felt immensely guilty for not have been able to do anything to help you somehow.
 “We have to go sweetheart” She squeezed your shoulders lovingly, and the two of your grilfriends helped you to stand up.
Agatha quickly pulled you closer to her, her left hand on your waist, Rio put her hand on your shoulders, afraid of letting you walk alone.
They started to walk towards the door to get ready to leave and go back to the road.
“Alice” Agatha called for her when she started to walk in front of you, she turned quickly to look at you and to the other two witches in front of her.
“Thank you, for saving her” Agatha said with a soft look on her face, it was sincere, Agatha sounded sincere for the first time since the have arrived at the road, and smiled at her.
“It is alright, you do not have to thank me, I really wish I had done more” Alice gave the three of you an apologetically smile.
“You saved me” You replied at her.
“It was more than enough, Alice” Agatha let her know, Rio gave her a nod and the shorter witch smiled, it was a big smile, she turned herself around and started to walk back towards the door.
The three of you were the last standing in the room right in front of the door that would take you back to the road.
Agatha made you stop and you looked at her, with a frown on your face.
“Listen, I, I am sorry, it was my fault, because of me, because of what I have done in the past, you got hurt, and, none of us could do something to actually help you, I feel so-“ You abruptly interrupted her.
“Don´t blame yourself please, it was not your fault, please stop blaming yourself” You wiped her tears out of her face before talking again.
“I would never blame you for anything, I am fine, we are fine, we passed the trial, I am happy nothing happened to you” Before you could continue speaking, you felt her arm wrapping you in a hug, she passed her arms around your waist and you heard her cry, she loved you with her entire heart, and she could not stop blaming herself, what if something worse had happened to you?
Rio went to place herself next to Agatha and started to caress her back before looking at you.
“Hey, it´s alright, I would never, really never, let anyone hurt any of you, I would break the rules for you, so you can rest assure Agatha, that I won´t let anything else happen to her, alright?” Rio knew what to say, because you felt Agatha getting relaxed and she sighed.
“We are going to keep an eye on you, we are going to make sure noting else happens to you, we swear” Agatha commented while looking into your eyes, and Rio nodded quickly.
Smiling at them, the three of you started to walk again, ready to face whatever would be next, Agatha and Rio let you in first, and it made you laugh, you were not sure what was going to happen, or if something really worst was waiting for you outside, but what you were sure, was that with the two of your girlfriends taking care of you, you would be fine, and that was alright, you knew that if anything happened, Rio and Agatha would be there for you, ready to fight against anything that would even just threaten you, so you smiled pulled yourself closer to them when you stepped outside of that place, Agatha came next to you and again she pressed her hand on your waist, and Rio put her hand on your shoulder, they started to guide you to the group that was waiting for you in the middle of the road, and you smiled, you were going to be alright, no matter what.
When you got closer to the group, they heard the leaves been stepped on by someone and they quickly turned their head to look at you, they all had smiles on their faces.
You saw the way the teen turned his body completely towards you and he opened his arms, the closer you got the more you noticed his puffy eyes, when you arrived in front of him, you quickly opened your arms as well and let him engulf you in a hug.
“Thank god you are fine” He said while the two of you slightly swung due to the teen moving to the sides, you giggled and separated yourself to look at him.
“I am fine because Alice saved me” You replied to him and realized all of the witches had come closer and were standing really close to you and the teen hugging you.
You looked to your left to see Alice wiping quickly one tear that was running down her face, and tried to act as if she did not want to cry, she quickly cleared her throat and saw how Lilia and Jenn were smiling at her, Lilia put her hand on Alice´s shoulder and caressed it lovingly.
You chuckled and walked closer to Alice until you were standing next to her, she looked up from the floor to look at you and she shrugged her shoulders.
“No big deal, it was what anyone else would have done, so we´re cool-“ Before she could continue talking you hugged her, your arms around her shoulders.
“Thank you so much Alice, you really are a protection witch, please never doubt that, you are amazing” Your words had touched her heart and she hugged you more, she nodded and when you looked back at her face you noticed she had left the tears ran freely down her face.
“Thank you y/n” Alice replied back at you.
“I am sorry I, I just let you there, in pain, I, I should have done something else, try to look for something to ease the pain but-“ You quickly took Jenn´s hands on yours, you knew she was not really keen on physical contact so you tried to respect that about her.
“It´s alright, you don´t have to be sorry, it was something that was out of your hands, I am grateful that you were able to save him and stop the bleeding, and that´s more than enough, thank you about that, we did not have the time to thank you for that” You said to her smiling, Jenn nodded and caressed the back of your hand.
“Can I get a hug? Everyone seems to love your hugs, I wonder what is so special about them” You nodded laughing and got yourself close to her to hug her, she always smelled amazingly, her perfume seemed to never actually leave her.
“Oh darling, I am so happy you are fine, I cannot imagine what Agatha and Rio would have ended up doing if something happened to you” Lilia pulled you closer to her after you separated yourself from Jenn, and you let her hug you while caressing your back, Lilia then took your hands in hers, and looked straight into your eyes.
“You are so important to everyone, do not ever let yourself think you do not matter alright?” She said to you with a firm tone, yet it was soft at the same time, you could only nod and your eyes filled with tears.
Agatha and Rio looked at the scene in front of them, and Agatha could only think that no one was going to let you get hurt, if for any reason Rio and her were not able to actually protect you, they knew they still had a coven that would do anything to try and protect you as well.
“It looks that you will have to start being kinder to them” Rio said to her with a smirk but she actually meant it.
“Shut up” Agatha said while pushing her slightly in a playful way.
“But you are right, we are a coven after all” Agatha commented while the two of them got close to you and placed each one of them to your sides, both of their hands on your waist.
“We still have to keep on walking, let´s go” Agatha caressed your back again, and while everyone nodded and continued to walk, you couldn’t help the smile on your face from getting bigger, maybe this would be the time for Agatha to start trusting in others, apart from only trusting in you and Rio, but you would still have a lot of time In which you would be able to help Agatha with that, right now, you still had a road to face, and you had never felt so safe and ready to face whatever that would appear.
After all, you had your girlfriends to take care of you, and a whole coven that now, looked after each other.
784 notes · View notes
certaimromance · 1 month ago
Text
𝜗𝜚 Cradle Song.
Spencer Reid x Pregnant!reader
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Summary: The situation is complicated when Spencer is trapped in a lab with anthrax and worried about communicating with you and his future child one last time.
Words: 2,4k.
TW: mentions of death, therapy. spoilers for s4 e24 ("amplification"). anthrax. established relationship. angst with a open ending. implication that the baby is a girl. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: I've seen a lot of sad videos of Spencer with kids, so I had to do this to calm my brain. It's dramatic, but if you've read me before, you know how I am (an extra dramatic and a little cruel girl).
Update: I wrote this after posting my first two one shots here (several months ago), and now I just found the uncorrected text and decided to improve it for posting lol for you to mentally decide if it's a happy or sad ending, because I could never write one that I really liked.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
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Your phone rang somewhere in the room, but you had no idea where. In the distance, you could hear the classical symphony by Johannes Brahms that your boyfriend had chosen especially for you, with the excuse that it would calm you and the baby every time it played.
Unfortunately, this time it wasn't helping to calm you down.
After tossing and turning around the room several times, you sat up in bed, completely exhausted and hopeless. That's when you felt the noise nearby and realized that the phone under your pillow was vibrating nonstop. You were about to snort with stress from being so distracted lately, but an automatic smile appeared on your face when you saw that it was a call from Spencer. You hadn't heard from him in several hours, the last being his usual call to wish you a good morning every time he was away on a case.
“I think I'd lose my head if I didn't have it attached to my neck.” Was the first thing you said as you tried to tuck your pillow behind your neck to make yourself more comfortable.
“You've lost your phone again.” You heard him let out a small, weak laugh, followed by a cough that caught your attention and made you frown. “Sorry, I got stuck.” He quickly excused himself.
“Are you okay?”
In response to your question, he looked around the lab where he was confined, focusing on the broken vial of anthrax on the floor that had caused all his problems so far. Reid didn't know how to explain that an ordinary case had turned into a national problem that was taking over his life and future moments with you with every passing second.
And he certainly knew even less how to tell you that this would probably be the last time you would hear from him if the team didn't find a cure soon.
“I'm fine.” He lied immediately, feeling his breathing getting harder and harder. “Really, love.” He tried to reassure you, but he lost his balance and leaned heavily on the counter, his free hand gripping it hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
All you had to do was hear him call you that and your whole world would light up, you could even feel the baby in your belly kicking at the sound of his voice. You smiled as you realized that you were both happy to hear from Spencer after not seeing him for most of the day due to the demands of his job.
Although you've never said it out loud for fear of making him feel guilty, you miss him excessively, and you're always trying to multitask and be productive, so you don't think as much about how much you need him by your side. Especially when dinner time comes and his seat next to you is empty, or when night comes and his side of the bed is cold.
Perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones, but you seemed to have a stronger need for him than ever.
“And how did you feel today? How are my girls? Did she kick a lot today?” The usual questions he asked you every time he was on a long case began to appear. “I need to hear everything.”
“She just kicks a lot when she listens to you and you know it.” You replied, stroking your belly out of laziness. “She’s definitely a daddy's little princess.”
The lump in his throat and all of his fears became more intense and uncontrollable. The tears he had tried to keep from escaping to stay strong and focused began to flow unchecked down his cheeks. Hearing you talk like that, knowing it might be the last time, was killing him much faster than the anthrax itself.
“And what are you doing? All your agent stuff?” You spoke again at his silence, trying to ignore the bad feeling something was giving you. “Are you coming home soon?”
“I don't think that's possible, love.” He replied quickly, his voice hoarse and raspy, the lie slipping from his lips almost too easily. “I'm doing some paperwork, it'll take some time.”
It was the second time he had called you by that nickname in just a few minutes. Something seemed a little off, as he only used it when he wanted to calm you down. You knew him too well to miss it.
“Oh, okay.” You said it in a way that showed you were a little disappointed.
Spencer was about to try to comfort you when he suddenly felt the cough return to his throat and he put a hand over his mouth to stop it. It was no use, the cough shook his whole body, spinning him around and making him pant in between. He tried to cover the phone with his hand so that the sounds coming out of his mouth would not be heard, but it was useless. The hacking cough seemed to tear at his lungs, leaving him breathless, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, and he could only hope you didn't hear it, because the last thing he wanted to do was worry you. He knew it would hurt you and the baby.
“Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should drink some water. It sounds pretty bad.”
He tried to answer you right away, but the cough took over and prevented him from speaking. He gripped the phone tightly, struggling to breathe, trying to force his lungs to stop spasming. And when he finally stopped coughing, he managed to speak, his voice cracking and rather hoarse.
“Yes, I'm fine. It's probably just a cold.” He lied again, breathing shakily. “But it’s nothing so bad.”
“Take care of yourself, don't let it get worse.”
If only you knew that there was no way to make it worse, that it was already at its worst point and unlikely to improve.
“I will, don't worry.” He tries to sound convincing, but his voice comes out rough and raw, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from coughing again. “Just focus on you and the baby, okay? I'll be fine.”
He spoke again so quickly that it was difficult to think of an appropriate response.
“Could you do something for me, love?”
“Of course, I'll do whatever you need.” You reply, feeling a little perplexed by the urgency in his voice.
There was a long, awkward silence after you answered, and you could feel your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. You had a feeling that Spencer was holding something back from you, and the thought of what it could be made your left leg start to twitch nervously. You didn't even bother trying to make yourself more comfortable in bed.
“Go to my part of the closet, to the top drawer. Open it and take out a box next to the socks.” Finally he spoke and began to give you instructions, which you followed as best you could. “Let me know when you have it, carefully. Don't rush or-”
“I've already got it.” You interjected.
“That was quick.” You heard the surprise in his voice as you looked at the box, curious to know what was inside, after having seen it several times and thinking it was just more socks.
You smiled before speaking again. “What should I do with this, love?”
The mere word coming out of your mouth made him tremble.
Love. Love. Love.
He was your love and you were his. He refused to accept that this would be completely shattered in a matter of minutes if he could not find a way to keep his eyes open and his heart still pumping blood.
“I need you to open it, but be careful. Take your time and don't rush. Don't make any sudden movements.” He said, trying to relax so that when he spoke again his voice would be calmer, softer. “And once you open it, I want you to imagine that I'm there with you, okay?”
You couldn't help but open the box quickly, even though you were careful. You were surprised to find a bunch of envelopes and papers inside. You left them on the bed, wondering what they were about. It had been five months since you knew you were pregnant, and all the envelopes and papers were the same age according to the dates in the top corner.
“Have you seen it yet?” Spencer asked.
“I'm sorry, I don't understand, could you explain what this is?” You asked, carefully running your hand through the neatly organized papers on the bed.
“Could you close your eyes and imagine I'm with you, like I told you before?” He asked, trying to keep a neutral tone as you complied with his request.
He needed you to see him there with you, he needed to say goodbye and at least touch you one last time.
“That's what I'm doing. I'm holding your hand right now.” You said with a small smile, feeling the warmth.
It was like feeling an automatic medicine with your name on it flow through his system and relieve a few aches and pains. His hands stopped shaking automatically as he imagined himself holding yours again.
“Okay…they are notes and letters.” His voice was soft, the intensity of his heartbeat gradually increasing as he remembered each time he wrote those words to you. “I started writing them when we found out you were pregnant. They're for our baby.”
He still remembered the day he found out you were expecting a baby, his baby. He recalled how he felt his whole world stop and turn a different color, his hand sliding down to your stomach, and his breath hitching in his chest as he held your face in his hands and kissed you lovingly, overwhelmed with joy and so in love that he hadn't known what to do with his own feelings.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I...I found myself writing frequently and my therapist said it was fine…I was inspired to write about my feelings for you and our baby."
From the moment he revealed to you that he had resumed therapy with the goal of healing the wounds of childhood and becoming the father he never had, it was clear that his dedication surpassed any commitment. Now you just added to the list of reasons why he was already an exemplary father, one that any child would be lucky to have.
“Spencer, this is so sweet.” You said, completely moved and on the verge of tears, as you noticed all the dedication I had put into each and every piece of paper. “Why didn't you tell me this before?”
He felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on him at that moment. It was so hard to explain, to tell you that every thought and every dream he'd ever had included you and the baby now growing in your belly, and his great fear of not being able to be there for you someday.
“I-” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I just wanted you to know now how much you mean to me and how blessed I am that you gave this to me. I've spent the last few months trying to even talk to some kind of God, and I don't even know if exist...” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, the words lost somewhere in his throat, making it burn and hurt. “I just...I need the baby to know what you and her mean to me, how I see you, how I feel when I wake up next to you. What I want, what I dream for her, what...”
I want to marry you.
The thought almost escaped his lips, his aching heart pounding hard against his aching chest. He felt as if a pair of strong hands were strangling him.
“I don't understand...Tell me what's going on.” You interrupted him with a shaking voice, knowing that there was definitely something more to all of this.
Oh, how you know him and his big, messy, troubled brain.
He closed his eyes and shook his head, though you couldn't see it, knowing that you already read him like an open book.
“Nothing...Nothing's wrong, love, just...” He tried to breathe deeply through the phone, his heart pounding in his chest and his mind racing too fast. “I love you so much. Don't forget that, okay?”
“Spencer-”
He always loved your voice calling his name, and now, in his weak, tired, fearful state, he couldn't stop the words from pouring out of his mouth.
“I want you to know that you'll be okay, that she'll be okay, that everything will be okay, and that I love you. I love you both very much. Please, please...” He kept going. He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't stop. His mind was racing, and his words came out like a confession.
He was an expert profiler, a genius with an eidetic memory and a sharp mind, but at that moment, with his body weakened and his head spinning, he found himself unable to contain himself. He was exposed, open, and experiencing discomfort. All of the things he wanted to tell you, all of the questions he wanted to ask, and all of the concerns, worries, and thoughts in his mind came pouring out, like a dam breaking. He sensed that you could feel it through the line, and he realized that he could no longer deny it any longer.
“I love you. I have to go now.”
“Wait.”
You had a feeling something wasn't quite right, and those letters seemed to confirm your suspicions. They were a precautionary measure, a way of ensuring that everything would be taken care of in case something happened to him.
“I have to go, I'm...I'm busy, love.” He tried to sound convincing, and he knew he was failing miserably, but if he stayed a moment longer, he would continue to talk and confess more. “I love you both.”
“We love you too.”
If he wasn't already weak and trembling, hearing your voice telling him that you loved him, in that soft tone, would have made him fall to the floor again. He closed his eyes again and leaned against the wall, his own trembling hand going to cover his mouth so he wouldn't say more, because he would tell you everything if you kept talking in that sweet tone.
He wasn't ready to say goodbye.
So it was that he thought of you and your kind way of loving him before he felt his head hit the floor and his eyes close.
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nickfowlerrr · 2 months ago
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everything comes out teenage petulance
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: angst, fluff, talk of insecurities, talk of rejection, virgin!reader but no smut - just mentioned, mutual pining - requited love - leaning toward idiots in love, hurt/comfort, pet names (sweetheart, doll), happing ending per usual. if i’m missing something important, pls lmk!
words: 4.3k
aspen!!! it’s crazy you sent this bc i was just about to start writing a little bucky fic and what better gif to use than this 😌 lol seriously perfect timing! tysm 🥰🫶🏻
and another huge thank you to you, ray for helping me out with the final edit!! @whatever-lmaoo i appreciate you sm! 🫶🏻
notes: had an idea, saw this gif, and then bam! here we are. yes i was clearly listening to down bad while working on this, but i promise it is not as sad as the song! also this fic is insanely self indulgent and i’m not even a little bit sorry lol. i do hope you enjoy this, and thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so so appreciated! let me know your thoughts 🩵
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You’re holding in the emotions threatening to spill out of you as you step off the elevator to the living quarters of the tower. You know no one else is here, everyone out on missions or gone for some downtime out of the city, but still, there are cameras everywhere and you don’t need your impending breakdown to be recorded.
You pull your slipping bra strap up your shoulder and mindlessly pull at the hem of your dress as you walk further into the darkened living room, your heels clicking on the floor as you go.
Your head is down as you near the kitchen so you don’t see the light radiating from the open fridge, but you hear it as the door closes loudly. You startle and whip your head to the kitchen, finding the one person you really don’t need seeing you in your current state staring over at you.
“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathe as you have a hand over your heart. His mouth is open as his eyes scan your body, roving up and down and making you feel even more self conscious than you were before. “What are you doing, I thought I was the only one here for the weekend?”
“Little early for Halloween, isn’t it?” He asks, ignoring your question.
Your brows furrow in confusion, “What?”
“You’re dressed like a clown, aren’t you?”
You’re essentially frozen as you take in his words. The fear that came over you at his surprise appearance had your self pity and consciousness forgotten for a moment but now it was back. And it was worse. You don’t do anything but stare at him for a second, you’re afraid if you speak or even try to move you will break down in tears and - fuck - you can feel your eyes welling as they begin to sting. You take a sharp breath and swallow hard, nodding once as your lips purse and you blink. You turn stiffly and walk away without a response.
He’s right behind you, though and you don’t make it two steps before Bucky grabs your arm.
“Wow, hey, come on, I was joking,” he breathes a disbelieving laugh as he tries to turn you toward him.
You fight him and pull your arm away, “okay,” you huff, just wanting to get away from him before the dam really breaks.
He lets you go but trails behind you as you walk faster down to your room.
You push your door open and don’t turn around as the tears finally begin to fall, trying to shut the door behind you without having to look at him.
He sticks his foot in front of the door as you try shutting it and keeps it open.
“Go away,” you nearly growl through tears, your voice sounding tight and if he hadn’t already caught on to your crying, there was really no way to deny it now.
He doesn’t say anything but he does push your door open enough to slip through it. It falls shut as you stand with your back to him, sniffling and trying desperately to stop the flow of tears that are drowning you, arms crossed over your chest as you work to control your breathing. You just want him to leave you alone so you can cry in peace.
“Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, I really didn’t mean it, I was just kidding,” he begins softly, “but you and I both know I’ve said worse to you before, so,” he hedges, “maybe it wasn’t what I said that made you cry…”
“I dont wanna talk about it, Bucky. Why are you even here? Just leave me alone,” your voice trembles despite yourself.
He sighs heavily and you see him from your mirror as he runs a hand through his hair and takes a cautious step closer to you, “Yeah,” he breathes, “I dont think I’m gonna be able to do that, sweetheart.”
You bristle at the petname and can’t help the sob that leaves you as the reminder of how your date went tonight plays in your head.
“Go away,” you whine as more tears fall and you try to turn further from him - as if that were possible. Your eyes squeeze shut in a futile attempt to stop crying, a pathetic pout on your lips as you try to stifle your sobs.
A gentle pull on your arms has you turning around, you don’t have it in you to stop him as Bucky gingerly pulls you closer. You’re too embarrassed to open your eyes as you cry harder and when you feel his strong arms around you, holding you to him, the tears only come faster. You feel yourself lean into him as you mindlessly bury your face in his chest, hugging him tight like he’s the only thing keeping you upright.
His warm hand is rubbing up and down your back as your walls continue to crumble around him.
“It’s not fair,” you blubber like a child into his shirt.
He doesn’t respond, waiting for you to continue as he keeps rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you, his brows furrowing as he wonders what could’ve happened tonight to cause this.
He’s never seen you this way and he hates it - hates that you’re upset and crying, anyway. The way you feel in his arms, holding onto him like this, well that’s a different story…
He’s keeping his anger at bay until he knows exactly what went down, but he knows you had a date tonight, and the only reason he’s here when he had plans to be out of town this weekend is because you were going to have the place to yourself, and he couldn’t get the idea of you bringing your date back here alone out of his head. Immature, sure, but he didn’t know what else to do but wait around to scare whoever it was you were out with away before they had a chance to so much as see you out of your shoes.
He’s even more grateful now that he decided to change his plans last minute. He was surprised to see you coming in alone, and if he wasn’t so caught up in how damn good you looked tonight, he probably would’ve noticed your mood before he decided to open his stupid mouth. But that’s your thing; the teasing, the bickering, the tit for tats. He was expecting a jab right back, but when he saw your eyes watering at his words, he felt sick. He couldn’t let you walk away crying, he couldn’t stand to see you so upset. Especially because of him. But now, as you stand here in his arms, so uninhabited and vulnerable, he knows it wasn’t because of him. And when he finds out exactly what or who it was that made you so upset… god help them.
“It’s not fair,” you mumble your cry again, “I just,” you hiccup, “why can’t I be pretty,” you sob.
It’s takes a second for the words to register before Bucky can react. “What?” he questions harshly, pulling you away from him, his hands on your arms as your tear streaked face and bleary eyes peer up at him.
Your eyes squeeze shut again as your crying continues and you fall into him again, not wanting to look at him as you make your confession. “I just want,” you cry, “to be pretty. I want someone to like me. To love me,” you eke out, your heartbreak evident in your voice. “No one loves me,” you mutter defeatedly. “No one’s ever loved me and no one is ever gonna love me,” you sob, grabbing his shirt as you cry into his chest harder.
“What exactly did this asshole say to you?” Bucky knows he needs to calm down but what he’s hearing from you right now is going to drive him insane. Why in the world would you ever say or think this about yourself? Your date had to have done or said something, he’s sure of it.
“Nothing,” you dismiss, “I mean, nothing wrong or mean. They were nice about it, I just,” you can’t help but cry more. “I’m not their type. Which is fine,” you try to shake your head and rationalize yourself into stopping crying, “that’s fine, I know I’m not everyone’s type,” you gesture vaguely down your body, “and I wasn’t super into them, either, I was just trying to put myself out there for once and I just, ugh,” you bemoan. “I dont know why I was expecting anything different. It’s never been different, won’t ever be different. I’m just, me. And they said what everyone always thinks, I’m a sweetheart, I’m just not their type,” you shrug before your tears bubble up once more and you let your face fall back into Bucky’s chest.
“If I was skinny, or pretty, or nicer,” you babble before Bucky cuts you off.
“Doll, stop it,” he orders firmly, surprising you as he suddenly lifts you effortlessly off your feet and has you clinging to him as he walks the short distance to sit you on your bed.
You’re stunned silent as tears continue to roll down your cheeks and even more surprised as Bucky kneels before you, making sure you’re looking him in his clear blue eyes. His gaze is intent and penetrating and you couldn’t look away if you wanted to. He’s so close…he’s never been this close to you before and you feel your breath trapped in your chest as you watch him.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says seriously, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and you’re an idiot for ever thinking otherwise.
His sincerity has your stomach twisting and your shame and disbelief has your tears falling again.
Your lips quiver as your pout remains, and you shake your head.
“Don’t do that,” he admonishes, hand gently grabbing your chin and making you look at him again. You swallow hard at the soft touch and the tenderness in his eyes. “Hear me when I say this, doll. You are absolutely beautiful. Exactly the way you are. Fuck ‘type’.”
You wince at his words, and you can’t help but look away again. It’s easy for him to say, he’s goddamn gorgeous and everyone knows it.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but you really just don’t get it,” you shake your head. “You could walk down the street and get anybody you wanted with one look,” you smirk softly. “You’re everybody’s type.”
“You don’t need to be anyone’s ‘type’, sweetheart,” he says.
“Yeah, and I’m not,” you reiterate harshly before taking a breath, not wanting to work yourself up again. This is stupid and you know it and it feels even more mortifying to be talking about this with not only the most attractive man you’ve ever known, but also the man you’ve been down bad for for so long. Deep down you know you don’t really care what most anyone else thinks, there’s really only one person you care about not finding you attractive, and you’ve worked to get over that sting of unrequital for a long while now, but fuck, everything just feels so heavy tonight. It’s not even that it’s just not him, which still gets to you every time you’re reminded of it, it’s that it’s not anyone.
And it’s not that you even want anyone else… you don’t, but knowing there’s really no one interested in you, the very real prospect of being alone forever, it got to you tonight…
“You don’t know that,” he says lowly.
“Bucky,” you roll your eyes, not only in annoyance, but also to keep the threatening renewal of tears at bay.
“So what you’re not some random person you don’t even like’s type,” he dismisses, placing his hands on your thick thighs as he stays kneeled before you, and you aren’t sure if he even realizes he’s doing it as his thumbs rub there softly, “you’re my type,” he defends.
You could curl up into a ball right now and die, there is no way you’re this fucking pathetic you have Bucky Barnes on his knees trying to convince you he thinks you’re pretty. As if this night couldn’t get any worse or more embarrassing.
You’ve seen the people Bucky has brought back here before. He certainly had a type, and you are certainly not it.
“You don’t have to say that, Bucky,” you blink away from his gaze. “It’s nice that you feel bad for me,” you sniffle, wiping at your tears with the sleeves of your dress, “but you really don’t have to.”
“Why do you think I feel bad for you?” He questions, moving to look you in the eyes once more, his confusion clear on his face.
You shrug, turning your head to again avoid eye contact, “I’m pathetic,” you laugh sardonically, wiping at the tears still slipping, slower now but still evident.
“You’re pathetic?,” Bucky chuckles, his soft touches on your thighs ceaseless. He bites his lip as he glances down to his hands, spreading his fingers wide before he squeezes you a bit, and if you aren’t reading into it, you’d say he seems the slightest bit nervous, his hold on you as much to try to comfort you as it is to comfort him, “I’m the one who bailed on guys weekend just to make sure you didn’t bring anyone home tonight,” he admits, causing you to finally look him in the eye again. What did he just say? You’re baffled and it’s evident as your brows furrow and you frown. He continues, “Or if you did, to make sure they wouldn’t stay long,” he half smirks, half grimaces.
“What?” you breathe out.
“Not the most mature move, I know, but,” he says, running a hand through his hair before he rubs the back of his neck, having the decency to at least be a little embarrassed by his plan. “The thought of you with someone else…anyone else,” he shakes his head. “I can’t stand it.”
You can’t possibly be hearing what you’re hearing, right? You don’t move or speak for a long moment as you try to make sense of what Bucky’s saying to you because clearly you’re not hearing correctly.
“You can’t stand…” you process aloud, “the idea of me being with someone?”
He breathes a laugh as you stare at him dumbly, his nervous habit of pushing his long hair back from his face shines again while he chuckles. “Doll, I can’t stand the idea of you being with anybody who isn’t me,” he clarifies.
“What are you-?” you shake your head, “What do you mean?”
His big hands return to your thighs as he gently squeezes you. “I mean that if you had come home with someone tonight, I would’ve made sure they didn’t stay more than a minute to say goodbye.”
You snort a laugh, wiping another tear from your cheek. That’s crazy.
“Please. ‘M not that kinda girl anyway, Buck,” you say. “I uhm,” you clear your throat, clearly a little uncomfortable with what you’re about to say, but fuck, you’ve already embarrassed yourself this much tonight, what’s a little more confessing gonna hurt, “I’ve never…done, anything. With anyone.” You admit, looking down at your hands in your lap.
It’s a moment before Bucky speaks again.
“Never?”
You shake your head slowly side to side, lips pursed, “No,” you murmur.
“That’s impressive,” he breathes.
You quirk a brow at his response.
“Mean, you gotta be batting people off like crazy,” he says, his warm hand once resting on your thigh now thoughtlessly trailing down the soft skin of your leg.
“No,” you state slightly annoyed and ever embarrassed. “Not like anyone’s ever been interested,” you trail off.
Bucky laughs again, not so nervous now, more in disbelief, “You’re so blind,” he muses, “I feel so bad for everyone who has ever been interested in you.”
Your face shows your taken offense but Bucky keeps talking before you can say a word about it.
“If you really think no one’s ever been attracted to you, you’re fucking crazy, sweetheart.”
You gape like a fish for a millisecond, opening and closing your mouth as you blink down at your thighs, his metal hand holding your right thigh softly and the fingers of his right hand dancing along the exposed skin of your left.
“I’m not crazy,” you mutter as his hand slips higher up your leg.
“You are,” he argues lightly, “and you make me crazy,” he says softer, blue eyes gleaming up at you. “Have you not heard a word I’ve said tonight?” He pauses, debating on whether or not he wants to say what he’s about to say before he decides to throw caution to the wind and finally admit his true feelings to you, as clearly as he possibly can this time. “You’re all I ever think about. Not just because of how pretty you are, either,” he smirks, growing more confident now and loving the way you react to his touch as his hands smooth along your soft thighs, goosebumps rising in his wake as he hears your breathing stutter. “It’s so much more than that,” he breaths in, “it’s every single thing about you. Your snark,” he smiles, “your strength. Your bravery, your stubbornness. Your lame jokes,” he pauses to admire the slant of your lips as you fight a soft smile, “your laugh. Your kindness, your friendship. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. The whole damn package, doll. And that’s without even bringing looks into it, because fuck,” he scoffs, “it’s a real shame you don’t see what everyone else sees.”
You dare a glance back at his penetrative gaze, “…And what, exactly, is that?” you reply timidly, but desperately wanting to hear his answer.
“A real life goddess,” he admires as he leans closer to you, his hands now well under the hem of your dress as they inch further and further up your thighs.
Your stomach is in a flurry as a tingle sparks inbetween your legs at his touch.
He leans up to you slowly, testing your waters as he gets closer and closer to your lips. You’re barely breathing when his nose brushes yours and you take a shaky breath when his hands leave your thighs and come to gently hold your face.
“You’re insanely pretty, and likable, and lovable, and you don’t need to be skinny for anyone to find you attractive. You’re gorgeous, inside and out. And I don’t wanna hear you talking about yourself like you were ever again, you hear me?” He questions quietly, intent but caring as he holds your glistening gaze in his.
You nod lightly, knowing tonight you weren’t your typical self. You had a hard night, and you let those old mean, destructive and intrusive thoughts get to you. You really do know better, but you’re human. And everybody has those days. You’re suddenly feeling even more grateful for Bucky’s unexpected presence tonight. If he wasn’t here, you’re sure you’d have spent the night in a spiral of self hatred and pity and would’ve probably cried yourself to sleep.
Your tears are dry now, though. And Bucky is still so close, his touch so gentle as his brilliant blue eyes swim with his care for you. You’ve seen it before, but it’s never felt so real and intimate as it does now, knowing what you know now.
He’s here tonight because of you. For you.
He’s not expecting anything, and you’re not sure how much you’re ready to give, but as he smiles that lopsided smile at you, you can’t help yourself as you lean into him, too. It’s slow and cautious as your lips brush his, and then you let your eyes flutter closed as you finally kiss him. It’s almost embarrassing how many times you’ve dreamed of kissing Bucky, but none of them played out like this, none of them ever came close. His lips are soft, his hands firm as he holds your face and you readily let him lead you as he kisses you back.
It ends all too quickly as he pulls away slightly, his tongue slipping past his lips as he savors the taste of you, his forehead touching yours as he maintains your closeness.
“And just for the record, I don’t think you look like a clown,” he shakes his head while you let out a quiet laugh. “I think your makeup looks great, and this dress,” he sighs with a near groan, moving his hands to settle on your wide hips, squeezing ever so slightly, sending more sparks to light in your core as you almost mewl at his touching, “I know you know you look good,” he smirks. “I was just being stupid wanting your attention.”
“Well,” you start with a slight eye roll, “I mean, who could really blame you?”
He smiles brightly at that, his laugh warming you as he leans in to kiss you again. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs against your lips.
“Your girl?” You ask, a near whisper as his words have your heart skipping a beat, eyes still closed from the kiss before you slowly blink them open. He nods.
“If you wanna be,” he breathes, blue eyes bearing into yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to finally admit how crazy I am for you without making myself look like a complete idiot,” he simpers, his signature smirk on display, “obviously didn’t avoid that, but, now you know. I’m crazy about you, doll.” His thumb rubs your cheek softly as he keeps you close, “I wanna be with you,” he breathes, “in any way you’ll have me. So, if you wanna be my girl,”
You smile softly, nodding as you cut him off, “I wanna be.”
You see his toothy smile before Bucky kisses you hotly as he surges up without warning, hoisting you up with him as you squeak into his mouth, arms clinging around his neck as his own hold you under your bottom. His strength is so effortless it surprises you for a second, but in an instant you get more comfortable in his hold as he continues kissing you. His smile grows on his lips as you kiss him back in kind until you’re forced to break away for a breath.
“I’m not happy you were so upset earlier,” he says as he catches his breath, forehead pressing to yours as you tuck his falling hair behind his ears while he holds you, “but I’m so fucking glad you came back here alone.”
“Well, I’m not happy you were trying to ambush me,” you joke, “but I’m really glad you were here tonight,” you whisper the words as your hands play in his hair, noses brushing, you’re still so close.
You’re staring into each other’s eyes until your gaze falls to his lips. Bucky kisses you again, so much softer than he did before.
“Me too,” he whispers softly. You smile and then pat his shoulders. He gets your message and gently lets you go as your heels touch the floor.
“I know it’s late,” he starts, closing the small distance between you as he takes a step closer, not wanting to be too far from you, already missing your proximity, “but you were expecting a nice date tonight, and you didn’t get one,” he sighs, “I just don’t think that’s right,” he exhales with that ‘hear me out’ purse of his lips. You eye him expectantly, fighting a smile as you wait for him to get it out.
“What do you think about catching a movie and grabbing food at that place you like? With me,” he adds as if it wasn’t obvious, earning a bright laugh from you for the first time tonight. “It’s a Saturday, so you know they’re open late anyway,” he rambles.
You lean into him with your shoulder as you stand so close to each other, getting his attention back on your face as you smile. “I would really like that, Bucky,” you nod. “I’m just gonna,” you wave a hand around your face, “fix this up a bit.”
He laughs as he rubs a streak of black from under your eye, “still beautiful,” he simpers.
Your entire body warms at his touch and his admiration as you grab his hand gently in yours and pull him closer. He seems to read your mind as his arms circle you and he leans in to take your lips in his.
It’s sweet and so natural it’s hard to believe you guys hadn’t done this sooner. The friendship was always there, but you never knew the feelings were too. All this time you convinced yourself your harbored feelings for Bucky were unreciprocated, and all the while, he was trying to figure out how to confess his own to you.
You laugh quietly into the kiss, amusement playing on your lips as you think back on every encounter you’ve had with Bucky that had you falling harder and harder for him.
“What’s funny?” He asks as you part with a grin.
“It’s just, all so obvious now,” you giggle. “I always thought I was reading into things with you, that you were just being nice, just wanted to be friends,” you trail off, swaying closer to him in your heels. “But, this whole time,” you blink up at him, lips parted gently as he keeps your body to his, holding you close.
“This whole time,” he simpers, a soft smile on his lips. “What the hell took us so long?”
“Uhm,” you muse aloud, “probably our combined stupidity,” you joke as he chuckles, his smile never wavering as he keeps his eyes on you, “but, let’s just call it fate,” you shrug on a soft exhale. You lean closer to Bucky even more, letting your lips brush his again, the feeling one you don’t think you’ll ever tire of, “no better time than the present, right?”
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star-girl69 · 10 months ago
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Let Me Love You Like A Woman
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
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synopsis: you and clarisse broke up two months ago, and when you’re selected to go on a mission together, clarisse just wants you to let her love you.
a/n: i feel feelings about this one….. anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
Let Me Love You Like A Woman - Lana Del Rey
******i want to make this clear: there is absolutely NO smut in this fic. terms like “fuck buddies” and “friends with benefits” are used but only bc i cant think of anything else lmao. all they do is makeout and it is suggestive at times but there is NO SMUT
warnings: this is so bad tbh, what is clarisse doing, she’s so confused my little ladybug, y/n my other ladybug is confused too, OH MY GOD THERES ONLY ONE BED, swearing, hate make out sessions but the hate is one sided, kissing obvi!, deep talks about our feelings which is hard for clarisse, angst, mentions of death blood and monsters, lovesick!! slightly desperate!!! clarisse my cutesy little ladybug, exes/enemies w benefits so like mentions of sex and such, very suggestive lol, as an actual server the restaurant scene hurt me to write lol, but for the plot, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
The Big House is the one place in camp you’re really unfamiliar with. It’s not like you haven’t been there before, it’s just you don’t go there that often.
And unknown places scare you.
There’s hiding places you don’t know about, blind spots you aren’t aware of- corners and small secrets and rules that you haven’t learned yet.
You make your way up the steps and through the porch, the familiar part- you pass by the infirmary and the random office no one uses- until you make it to the connected gondola Chiron and Mr. D. spend most of their time at.
You’re about to turn and enter when a familiar figure appears in front of you.
It hurts to think about how you’ll always know it’s her.
She seems just as shocked to see you but covers it up quickly.
“Y/N,” she smirks, looking you up and down.
You stop, go to turn around and march off in the other direction when you remember you can’t.
Clarisse La Rue doesn’t deserve the dirt under your feet, even though she would probably eat it if you asked- charmspeak used or not.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, and she frowns. You never really called her by her name when you dated, and you know it bothers her now to hear you say it.
That’s exactly why you do it, of course, but the part of you that knows everything about her and will always love her squeezes at the sight of her poorly-hidden sad face.
She’s been slipping up lately. It warms your heart to know that’s because of you.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, genuinely curious.
As a cabin leader, it’s not unusual for Clarisse to be here. But she knows you’re scared of the unknown, and she knows it’s just not in your routine to come here.
“Dunno,” you shrug. “Got called here.”
Her eyes light up. “How funny, so did I.”
You roll your eyes, fighting against the parts of your body that want to run towards her and the parts that want to run away. Instead, you listen to your brain and feel her staring at you as you turn the corner into the gondola.
“Y/N, Clarisse,” Chiron greets with a pleasant smile, setting down a hand of cards face-down. You almost laugh at Mr. D’s disappointed look- Chiron isn’t the trainer of demigods for no reason.
“Yeah, yeah, welcome,” Mr D says, seeming entirely uninterested. You both stand there slightly awkwardly.
Chiron is known to be blunt, so he of course jumps right in.
“We have a mission for the two of you.”
“The two of us? Like, just the two of us?”
The words come out before you can stop them, fingers twisting together and mouth slamming shut. You’re fine, you try to tell yourself, even though your mind and body agree on one thing- being too close to Clarisse will just lead you right back to her.
Clarisse tries to hide her hopeful smile, but you see through it. You loved her for so long, of course you see through it.
“Uh… yes,” Chiron says. You clench your fists.
Mr D seems interested now, especially after your outburst.
“Oh,” he laughs. “I see.” He gestures between the two of you, “there’s bad blood.”
Chiron presses his lips together.
“Nothing that doesn’t make us capable of going on this mission,” Clarisse says, taking a step forward. She smiles at you, but doesn’t make a move to touch you. At least she knows some limits, even if they don’t matter now.
“Well,” Chiron continues, seeming to regret his decision but deciding it’s too late. “Y/N. Your charmspeak, I feel, will be extremely important to this mission. And, Clarisse, daughter of Ares- your skills in battle are nothing to scoff at. There is an item I require the retrieval of. A friend left it in a P.o. box in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. The journey is not particularly perilous, but being a demigod carries an affinity for danger.”
You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I trust the two of you will be able to put aside your… ‘bad blood’ and complete your mission?”
Maybe this mission will be good for you. It certainly nowhere near the kleos of a quest, but more so gives you bonus points with Chiron. That could be helpful.
Clarisse looks at you.
“Oh, yes. Don’t worry.”
—-
“Y/N.”
You walk away from Clarisse pointedly, hoping she’ll take the hint.
You’ve decided you’ll do this quest. If you ever did want to be a cabin leader in the future- you either had to be well liked or the best. As a daughter of Aphrodite, you were already well liked- conversation and flattery came as easy to you as breathing.
Even before you learned how to use your charmspeak, you could sweet talk almost anyone into doing whatever you wanted. You really needed an A on that test? A few tears and some master manipulation- suddenly that A was yours.
But, Chiron needed to like you too.
You do this quest for him- which he choose you for- and then you earn even more of his respect.
It was such a simple exchange. It could be such a simple exchange, except if the girl hot on your heels wasn’t your partner.
She finally manages to grab your wrist and whip you back around so you’re facing her.
She smiles.
“I’ll always catch you, you know. No use in running, really.”
“At least I’ll go down fighting,” you say, looking anywhere but her eyes like portals that suck you in. She’s so close to you.
If this was the before you would wrap your arms around her neck and hers would go to your waist. Even if you were mad at her, she would press her body close to yours and kiss the corner of your lips- Clarisse made it her life’s mission to know every inch of you, and she succeeded. She would know the exact way to calm you down and get you to look at her and hear her out.
And most of the time you were being dramatic, or simply joking, and then she would kiss you and it would all be fine again.
Except it’s not the before. It’s the after, and your heart hurts being so close to her.
“What do you want, Clarisse?” you sigh.
“I just wanted to talk to you.”
Your chest blazes. “Go talk to literally anyone else.”
Her face hardens.
“How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that you are the only person I care about?”
You rip your hand away from her grip.
“Shut up,” you hiss, turning and walking away.
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at the gates,” you can feel her smile. “And then I’ll see you all on our mission, huh?”
“You’re crazy!”
—-
You walk into the Hermes cabin and fall face first onto your best friend Marley’s bed.
She looks up from her book and laughs.
“Oh, babe, what happened?” she asks, scratching the back of your scalp as you pull yourself up into your elbows and place your head in her lap.
“Mission,” you groan.
She stops. “A mission? For Chiron? Gods, Y/N that’s amazing-”
“With Clarisse.”
She takes her hand away from your scalp and moves to your chin, lifting you up.
As much as Clarisse hurt you and you hate her, Marley had always had a special sort of hatred for her. Even when you were happy and dating- you would tease her that maybe she’s actually a daughter of Ares, seeing how angry she was.
She was always overprotective, she insisted she just had a bad feeling about her- but eventually she stopped and you thought you could have it all.
“I’m sorry,” Marley laughs. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
You put your lips right up to her ear.
“MISSION WITH CLARISSE-”
“Y/N!” she yells and pushes you away, groaning as she holds her ear. “My ears are bleeding now, oh my Gods-”
“You’ll be fine,” you groan, settling back into her lap. “I’m the one who actually has to go with her.”
“Actually?” she whispers after a tense moment. “You actually have to go with her?”
“It’s fine,” you mumble.
“It’s not. Maybe I-I can talk to Chiron, or maybe I could come with you, huh?”
“No, thanks, Marls. It’s alright, really.”
She stares down at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Marley has always been exceptionally good at hiding her emotions. But you can tell she’s angry. She’s scared.
She’s your best friend and you will always love her in the most special way.
“I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.
The Hermes cabin is always a bustle of activity. But when you’re just here with Marley, it’s the two of you. It’s perfect. It’s what you’ve always wanted- selfishly- to feel special. You feel special with her eyes on you, your head in her lap. She’s your best friend.
You put your hand on her face.
“As much as I hate it, we both know Clarisse won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll be safe.”
“Yeah, but what if she does something to you?”
What if she does absolutely nothing and you fall in love with her all over again?
You always thought that all that stuff about feeling your heart physically break couldn’t be true- but you know it is. You felt it break and every time you look at Clarisse and it can’t be like it was before your heart breaks a little more.
Clarisse acted like you were some big secret that was a chore to hide, and then when you were in her arms she would call you the prettiest girl. It was like whiplash, feeling her touch so tenderly and then not even being allowed to look at her in public. And you wanted so badly to tell everyone that she was yours and you were hers- but she just couldn’t.
And you don’t care about the reason behind that, not after that one night, not after she told you she could never love you.
She doesn’t really want you. She acts like she does, but she only misses you on the surface. Sure, you miss her body, but you miss your late night talks and the way she was always there to protect you, the way she made you feel. You like the person you are with her.
She wants an idea of you, she wants you under her, she wants power and control.
You think maybe a part of her really does regret losing you that night. But, she laid it all out that night. What she feels doesn’t make up for what she said. She doesn’t love you because she’s insecure, because she’s self-serving and power hungry.
She makes you feel stupid waiting for her, but why would you wait for someone else when you could wait for her to come back? You don’t like the unknown, and Clarisse is the one thing you really know.
You look into Marley’s eyes now.
“It will be good for me,” you whisper. “I’ll earn Chiron’s respect.”
Marley kisses your cheek.
“I know. I just don’t want you to go, and I know that makes me selfish but- still.”
“I know, Marls. I know,” you whisper. But this will be good for you, and it’s already been done. You already accepted it.
Marley helps you pack and you watch her anger. You watch her roughness, you watch the fire in her eyes- and Gods, does it make you feel special to have a friend like her.
You only wish you could make Clarisse feel like that too.
—-
The bus ride is boring.
Clarisse, for some merciful reason, decides not to torture you and instead throw her dagger up and down.
But you’re bored.
You’ve been reading a book Marley lended you, something boring and wonderfully distracting about the history of the four wind gods- you think about the wind and not about the way Clarisse’s thigh is pressed up next to yours.
It’s only been two months.
As much as you hate it, you won’t even admit it to Marley, but you’ll admit it to yourself in the quietness of the back of the bus.
You close the book and stuff it into your backpack.
You miss her.
“I’m bored,” you announce before you can second guess yourself.
“Okay,” Clarisse hums, picking at a speck of hardened dirt on her dagger. “I know a lot of things we could do to remedy that.”
Your cheeks flush, but you hold your ground. “I’m not going to kiss you. One, it smells like shit back here and two, we’re not dating anymore.”
“True, but doesn’t that just make it more fun?”
“What?”
Her hand moves to your thigh and you let yourself sink into the before.
“We aren’t supposed to- your best-fuckin’-friend would skin me alive. But we both know you want to.”
“I don’t want my lips anywhere near you.”
She just smiles at you, and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring into her eyes this entire time.
She takes her hand off of you and turns away, and this part of you aches so badly for the before- but it’s after. But she doesn’t love you and she just wants you.
But you want her too. You want her so bad, and maybe if you just let yourself sink into her one more time then you can move on. One good goodbye and you’ll be fine.
“Take a nap, then,” she suggests. “We still have another hour before the next rest stop, I’ll wake you up.”
“Okay,” you mumble, a part of you loathing listening to her, but a nap sounds good.
—-
You sleep the best you ever have since you broke up.
Clarisse was always sneaking into your bed, or you into hers, and she was always so warm and made you feel so safe. You always slept with her. And while you could still fall asleep fine without her- it just wasn’t the same.
You wake up to the sound of the bus doors opening and people talking around you.
“Y/N,” Clarisse whispers. “Wake up.”
You realize your head is on her shoulder.
You push her away from you, she just laughs and stands up.
“So stubborn,” she mumbles, leaning down to dig into her bag for the money Chiron gave you.
You resist the urge to say something snarky back, instead choosing to squeeze past her and out into the aisle.
She’s following behind you in a second, her bag zipping up and getting thrown back under the seat.
She’s right up in your ear.
“I know you hate me,” she whispers. “But you can’t just go running off. What if there was a monster right outside the doors?”
The two of you step off of the bus, the bright sunshine making your squint.
You pull up your shirt and pat your hip where your dagger rests.
“I’d kill it.”
You both know you probably couldn’t.
She laughs. “Is that the dagger I gave you?”
Your face freezes but you keep walking into the rest stop.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff.
She sticks her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulls you into an aisle filled with chips. You suddenly find a bag of Cheetos very interesting.
She looks at your face, into your eyes, and traces her fingers over the dagger’s handle.
“Hm, mine.”
You miss her so bad. You never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. You miss her body and her mind and her voice. You miss her hands and her lips and the way she made you feel.
You don’t pull away. How can you pull away?
It was easy to ignore her when she wasn’t right in front of you, but there’s this part of you that loves her and wants to believe her. Then there’s another part that wants to see her suffer like she did to you.
You push her off of you. “Don’t touch me.”
Again, she just smiles, and that’s really starting to piss you off.
—-
You’re somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania at a bus stop, waiting to cross the lonesome highway to the other side of the street where a train station awaits you.
“Are you okay?” Clarisse asks, and you realize she’s already stepped out onto the road and you’ve been staring off into nothing. You quickly follow her, half running across the road until you get to the sweet, sweet air conditioned station.
“Yeah, ‘m fine.”
In reality, you have to keep yourself distracted so you don’t fall back into her. You’ve decided it not about whether or not you love or want to hear her out- it’s about the way she kisses you and the way her skin feels against yours.
You can want her, here, where no one will know.
You’ll swear her to secrecy, and she’ll shut up just for the chance of more. And you don’t know if you’ll give it to her.
The station is oddly busy.
You have this horribly uneasy feeling.
You make your way into the line anyways, snatching the tickets from where they’re scrunched up in her hand, trying your best to flatten them again.
She laughs. You refuse to feel the way it makes your heart ache. You think about the other reasons she makes your heart ache.
You see something, shiny and black out of the corner of your eye. When you look over, the indented entrance to a janitor’s closet is marked in shadows.
But you trust yourself.
“I think I just saw something,” you whisper.
She still makes you feel safe. She’s one of the most talented warriors at camp and she loves you- even Marley admitted she won’t let anything happen to you.
She follows your gaze. And she doesn’t see anything.
“Okay,” she murmurs. She trusts you too. Her eyes flick between the shortening line and the shadows. “Maybe one more minute then we’re on the train.”
“Yeah,” you agree, slipping your hand into hers. You can hear her inhale sharply. She’s not phased by a potential monster, but you holding her hand makes her face flush.
Why is she so fucking confusing?
As far as you can tell, she just wants to be fuck buddies- so why is she blushing as you hold her hand?
She squeezes your hand, and Clarisse is right, you make it to the front of the line. The man checks your tickets and hole punches them, welcoming you back into the outdoors.
You look over your shoulder, and something shiny reflects in the sunlight, still in the shadows of the building.
“Clarisse.”
She seems to see it too.
“I can’t tell what it is,” you say.
She tugs you along. “I don’t want to find out.”
When you finally step foot onto the train you take your hand from Clarisse’s and look down at the tickets. Cabin 4A. It’s near the front, so you find it fairly quick- just a simple one room cabin.
You quickly barricade yourself inside, drawing the curtains and setting your stuff on the floor.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“That was tense,” you mutter. Clarisse holds her wrist. She nods, staring down at your feet before sighing.
Somehow, it’s six o’clock. You dig into your snacks, neither of you feeling like leaving the safety of the cabin to go to the dining cart.
The train car has two benches facing each other, overhead storage and a large window. There’s practically no room in between the two benches- the car is maybe 5 feet wide.
You miss Marley. You could always talk to her from across the pavilion during a meal- entire conversations with just your eyes. You miss your siblings, their conversation filling up the silence. Here, there’s nothing.
It’s so silent, and yet it’s that comfortable silence with Clarisse. It makes you miss the before.
That’s all you’ve been doing- missing things and wishing they were different.
The train starts and you stare out the window, the rolling hills and the trees and the small creek. You can feel Clarisse looking at you. You try your best to ignore the way her gaze makes you feel- but you’re alone in this cabin. There’s no one else here. There’s no one else to know if you give in one time.
Something slams against the door.
You breathe in and Clarisse grabs her spear.
“Should I open it?” you whisper, standing up. She sticks out her spear to stop you from moving forward.
The two of you listen, but nothing else happens.
It wasn’t a knock. It sounded sort of like a ball being kicked into the door.
“I’m opening it,” you decide, curiosity killing you, pushing Clarisse’s spear aside.
“Y/N,” she warns, but you’ve already slid open the door.
Absolutely nothing is there. You look out the adjacent windows, down the hallways lined with red carpet.
You shrug. “Nothing’s here-”
It’s cold and scaly when it lands on you.
The same black shiny thing you saw, it’s slithering around your neck, cutting off your air supply immediately. You can’t even scream you’re too scared, hands clawing at your neck but it squeezes and one of its heads rears up to attack your chest-
Clarisse’s spear sails right through its raised head.
It drops, you fall back, gasping, watching as she pins it under her boot and lifts the spear out of it. It’s wriggling and trying to break free- but she stabs it through its other head.
It’s an amphisbaena. A horrible, scaly black snake-sort of thing with a head on each end.
You rub your chest, swallowing a lump in your throat as Clarisse casually picks up the now dead monster and opens the adjacent emergency exit window in the hallway- throwing it out into the middle of nowhere.
She turns back around, frowning at the blood coating the ends of her spear-
You slam into her. You’re breathing so heavily, you still feel like it’s around your neck, but Clarisse carefully wraps her arms around your waist, letting you lean against her as your shaky hands massage your neck.
No one would know.
Her spear falls to the floor.
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s dead,” she whispers, kicking the cabin door closed with her foot.
No one would know.
“Thank you,” you breathe. “Oh, Gods, thank you, Clarisse.”
“No problem,” she says.
No one would know.
“Clar,” you mumble. She stiffens at the nickname. She tenderly brings one hand up to your face, and she wants you just as much as you want her- that’s all this is about. An exchange. You’ll kiss her for the last time and you’ll finally get over her.
“I know,” she mumbles, she feels the burning in her stomach too. You’re connected by that in this one moment, your mutual desire and need. Except she has a need for a new beginning, and you have a need for an end.
It’s so simple.
You both can get what you want from this trip.
“I know,” she says again, her nose touching yours. Your breaths mix in the air. “I know, I miss you so much… so bad, Y/N, you don’t…”
“Show me,” you whisper against her lips, and she does.
You can feel it all, the regret you don’t care about, and the desire and want and need you do care about.
You need to feel more of that. You need to feel special, so when your back hits the the door and her hands are all over you, you tilt your head back and look up at the ceiling, mouth twisted into a moan.
You need her to make you feel special. You don’t feel special without her, without her rough hands and her soft lips. It’s the one trait from your mother that you somewhat despise- the innate need to be the center, to be the focus, to feel special. She’s the only one who has ever made you feel like this.
No one else will ever come close.
“I hate you,” you breathe. You can’t think, all your walls are down. “I hate you so much and I still…. I still…”
She kisses you again so you don’t have to say it.
—-
The bed is scratchy and uncomfortable, but there’s only one- and it’s so tiny you’re pressed right up against Clarisse. She doesn’t wrap her arm around you, even though you wish she would, if only because you’re cold.
Not because you’re still irrecoverably in love with her and you know she won’t. And even if she does, it won’t be in the way you want it.
How can she kiss you like she loves you yet claim she never will? How can one kiss make you so weak in the knees that you’re genuinely considering doing this for any scrap of her you can get?
You stare up the ceiling for a long time, until you come to that weird space where you’re so tired you can’t move and your eyes are closed, but you’re still awake.
She wraps her arm around your waist and kisses your temple.
—-
The next time she kisses you you’ve gotten used to this whole making out with no strings thing.
You’re about to get off the train, so you tidy your stuff and head to the dining cart for pretty pastries and bagels and some fruit. On your way back, maybe 15 minutes left in your ride, someone in a uniform sees two teenage girls heading alone into a room.
When he asks where your parents are, can he see your tickets, you panic and charmspeak him to forget he ever saw this and walk away.
“Close,” you laugh, and Clarisse mumbles some sort of noncommittal agreement before smashing her lips onto yours.
You gasp but kiss her back, just reveling in having her hands on you. Her hands tangle in your hair, tugging back so she has better access to your neck- the side of it already sporting a hickey from last night.
“Did I ever tell you how fucking hot you are when you use your charmspeak?”
“I don’t know,” you mumble, because you can’t think of anything when her lips are on your neck.
—-
The station is luckily only 20 minutes away from the P.o. box, so the walk is quick through the streets of Myrtle Beach. It’s so loud here. There’s cars constantly whizzing past you, people yelling and honking, sirens in the distance. It’s confusing. It’s so different from Camp.
“I fucking hate this place,” you mumble, fidgeting with a loose string on your backpack.
“I do too,” Clarisse answers, but not for the same reasons. Her eyes whip around, searching for anything hiding in the shadows- but the sky is so blue and the sun makes your skin so warm- it seems unfathomable that any monsters would be here.
Of course, they’re here. They just haven’t come out yet.
Clarisse has been angry at the world for as long as you can remember, but you always thought her roughness balanced out with your softness. Ares and Aphrodite, love and war, peace and violence.
You always thought you could bring out that little bit of softness in her.
“On your left!”
Clarisse drags you out of the way just for a man on a bike to speed past you- your eyes flick to the perfectly usable bike lane on the street.
“Asshole,” you mutter.
“Asshole!” Clarisse shouts after him at the same time. He flips you off and continues shouting at more people to move.
Her hand is digging into your arm. She lets go after she huffs, muttering a few more choice words.
She keeps glaring at every honking car and random pedestrian. You roll your eyes when she yells at some random car to go die, laughing.
“Always fuckin’ honking,” she mutters. You know if she ever got behind the wheel, she would do the exact same thing.
“You’re not any better,” you tell her, nudging her hand that’s currently balled up into a fist.
“Yeah, well, I have a reason to be mad.”
Clarisse is angry at the world, but you know she has reasons. She’s not just angry for the sake of being angry, although she finds comfort in the familiar just like you, she is angry at the world that has done nothing but wrong her time and time again.
Sometimes you wish you could have as much fire in you as her. And two months ago, you thought she had enough fire in her for the both of us.
“Why don’t we grab the box and then go to lunch?” you suggest, getting the feeling that Clarisse is about to explode. She looks at you. “We have a few hours until our train back, hm?”
“Yeah, okay.”
—-
Chiron said this mission wasn’t going to be that dangerous, but you are surprised when it really is that easy. You take the key out from the envelope Chiron gave you, opening the blue box and coming out with a small box. It almost looks like some sort of fancy necklace- a long black box with a silver bow on the outside.
“This feels too easy,” Clarisse says as you lean down to carefully place it in your bag.
You shrug. “You’re always so paranoid, just let it all come naturally. Some things are easy, Clar.”
She stares at you for a moment.
“I guess,” she says, sticking out her hand to help you up before you both make your way back out onto the streets.
Her spear is hidden by the mist, strapped to her back, and you’re sure she has a bunch of little daggers strapped all over her. You scan the busy street.
Clarisse snorts at a restaurant called “Mother Earth Green Food” and her eyes light up at the sight of a 80’s style diner- “Mr. Steve’s Burgers and Bacon”.
“We’re going there,” she declares, and you roll your eyes but follow her across the street. It’s not that busy, seeing as it’s still early, so you’re seated quickly. It feels so good and so wrong to be here across from her like this.
It feels like before. Except some sort of alternate reality, where you actually left camp and got to be like this. You still want her and your trip’s not over yet, so you sink into it.
“Hey guys, I’m Miley and I’ll be your server today. What can I get you for drinks?”
She’s got long dirty blonde hair, tied up in two very neat and impressive space buns. Her skin is tan, but you suppose if she lives near the beach then everyone’s skin is tan, really.
“I really like your hair,” you tell her, pointing to the side of her head. She smiles and bounces one of them in her hand.
“Took me forever,” she chuckles. “I love yours, such a pretty color.” You cheeks blush as you thank her.
She smiles at you and goes off to get them, so you turn back to your menu. Clarisse’s foot taps against the floor.
“What are you thinking of getting?”
She sets her menu down and points to some sort of monstrous burger called “The Bomb.”
You laugh. “The Bomb,” you mock. “Will it explode in your stomach, or something?”
She mumbles something under her breath, staring off towards the counter, and you can tell by the look on her face it’s not anything nice.
“What was that?”
She presses her lips together. “Nothing,” she hums.
You shoot her an odd look but she pointedly looks away, and as much as you want to, you decide not to push.
Miley comes back with your drinks, and you thank her as she sets them down. Clarisse mumbles a thank you too after you kick her foot.
“Okay, and what can I get you guys to eat today?”
You have to kick Clarisse again to remind her to say please.
You smile apologetically up at Miley for Clarisse’s sour mood, but she seems not to care, smiling back at you and saying something about how she’ll make sure it’s out quick for you.
“‘I’ll make sure it comes out quick for you,’” Clarisse mocks, her voice a pitch higher.
“Yeah. Isn’t she so nice? And yet here you are treating her like shit.”
“She’s sucking up for a good tip.”
“Or maybe she’s just nice, Clarisse. There are nice people in the world, you know. Not everyone is all dark and brooding or bitchy.”
The silences stretches for a second too long. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
You hum, sitting on your hands and staring out the window. It’s times like this your miss your mortal childhood, having access to electronics meant you were never bored. You debate taking out the book Marley loaned you, but you don’t get the chance to.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Clarisse announces. “Come with me.” She’s already walking away.
“Who’s gonna watch our stuff?”
“Tell fuckin’ Miley to do it, I don’t care.”
You look around. There’s not many people in the restaurant, and you’re curious and bored- so you follow her. The door swings closed behind her, and it takes you a second to follow her in.
You think she’s disappeared, the bathroom empty with two open stalls. The door is kicked closed behind you. You turn around and Clarisse pushes you into the nearest bathroom, her hands on your waist- you moan in surprise, letting her flip the two of you around and press you against the door, her hand leaving your waist to make quick work of the lock.
“Clarisse,” you breathe. “What’s going on?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
You don’t answer and she kisses you deeper.
—-
“Clarisse.”
She’s been smiling at your neck a little too obviously, and when she finally lets you out from under her lips and hands, you immediately turn around and head for the mirror.
“Clarisse,” you repeat.
She’s looking at you in the mirror and smiling. Actually fucking smiling.
“What is wrong with you?!” you yell, turning on the cold water and frantically bringing it to the red hickies on your neck. “Are you a vampire? Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, this is so fucking embarrassing!”
“It’s not,” she huffs. “You’ll be fine.”
“Cl-” but she’s already left. She really has to stop doing that.
��-
Lunch is fine, you leave Miley a nice tip, even though Clarisse scoffs and mumbles that she wasn’t that good- but you feel so bad that she had to watch you wiggle in your seat, desperately trying to hide your neck as Clarisse ran her foot up and down the side of your leg.
You ignore her the entire walk to the station, she barely hides the smug look on her face. Is she just intent on making you seem stupid and weak? Does she want to embarrass you? She knows. She knows you’re still in love with her and she’s playing you like a fiddle.
You thought Clarisse to be a lot of things, and you know she’s cruel and ruthless- but you never thought she could be this way towards you.
You make it onto the train with no problems, and you’re desperate to just get out of this place and back to camp where you can ignore her. You had one last final hurrah, and now you need to forget her.
You stare pointedly out the window. You ate dinner in the dining cart in silence, Clarisse didn’t try to touch you again, but she seems bored of letting you sulk now that there’s nothing else to entertain her.
It’s only about 7:00 pm- you still have an entire night with her, and a bus ride the next day. Why are the Gods torturing you like this?
“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You’re sitting across from each other. Her foot kicks at yours. “C’mere,” she pats the space next to her on the bench.
You snort. “You’re crazy. I’m not sitting near you.”
She shrugs and stands up, sitting next to you while you gasp in exasperation.
“Bitch,” you mumble, clenching your fists at you stand. She plants her hand on the window, trapping you in with her arm.
“Don’t be mean.”
You fold your arms and stare out the window. She’s right at your shoulder, whispering in your ear even though your alone- it makes you feel so special your head gets all dizzy.
“I want you, Y/N.” Not the way you want her.
“I. Don’t. Care.”
She laughs. You can see her reflection in the mirror, she’s laughing and smiling fondly- staring at you.
You whip around and point your finger at her.
“I won’t let you treat me like a rag doll anymore.”
Her smile falls.
“I used to be something you could just swing around, but I’m not anymore. I won’t ever be a toy for you, Clarisse. These past two days were fun, but they were goodbye. When we get back to Camp I’m getting over you, because I’ve spent too much time waiting for you.”
Her hand falls from the window, and she backs away from you.
—-
When you realize that this train also features another small, single bed, you resist the urge to stomp your feet like a child. Instead, you pretend like it’s all fine, a part of you pretends it’s that alternate before- Clarisse turning around while you change and you leave to brush your teeth and then you come back to her in bed.
You lay down, body unwillingly pressed up against hers. She doesn’t touch you, at least, and it’s tense and silent until she breaks it. Her hand finds yours through the sheets and blankets.
“Y/N.”
You try to shake her hand off of you, mumbling that she’s using your tiredness to manipulate you.
“Do you really think that’s all you were to me?”
You’re frozen, she’s right up against your back, breath tickling your shoulder and voice in your ear again.
Your hand still fits perfectly in hers.
“A toy?”
“What else was I supposed to think?”
She utters the two words you never thought you would hear her say.
“I’m sorry.”
Your breathe hitches.
“I-I know I’ve been stupid, I’m not totally dumb. I just, I had it in my head that I could make you fall in love with me all over again. And then I could do it right, I could fix it, and you could teach me how to love you and I would do it right, Y/N. And then I… I got jealous. Because that fucking server was flirting with you, she was, and I got fucking jealous and I fucked it all up.”
She’s breathing heavily at your shoulder.
“I was scared, Y/N. And that… I didn’t know how to deal with that. I was scared because I love you so much I know I would do anything you asked me too. So, I said those stupid things that night, I just lied because I was scared, and I’ll never forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I don’t deserve another chance, but I want to show you that I can do it right. I can do it however you want me too, as long as you teach me.”
It’s silent for a moment.
“I want you to let me love you.”
She lets go of your hand.
“You don’t have to say anything, I guess,” she swallows. “I mean, if I was you I would have killed me-”
“Really?” you voice comes out like a broken whisper, sitting up so you can look into her eyes. You try to tell if she’s lying, but you can’t. It hurts and it aches so good and she’s not lying.
“Y-yeah, I would have killed me.”
You smile. “No, dumbass, do you really love me?”
“Oh,” she blinks, sitting up too. “Y/N, I love you so much that I’ll never be the same person again.”
You don’t want to kiss her. All you’ve been doing is kissing her, sinking into that hard and rough side of your relationship that’s just hot desire.
But there’s a soft part to Clarisse that you bring out. And you bring it out now, winding your arms around her neck, breathing heavily as you rest your head on her shoulder. She hugs you, her arms are so strong, she always gives the best hugs- and kisses your temple like she did when she thought you were sleeping.
She loved you even when she didn’t know you would feel it.
Your fingers dig into her back.
“I love you,” she says again, softly, like she’s caressing the words with such a reverence that they were bathed in golden ichor. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too,” you say back, you let her love you, and it’s the most true thing you’ve ever known.
—-
“Ah, young warriors!” Chiron says, holding his hands out.
Of course, on the tail end of your trip you had encountered tons of little monsters- more amphisbaena, even a juvenile drakon that could barely spit acid. Clarisse had made a dazzling show of killing all of them, and unlike the first amphisbaena- none of them got close enough to touch you.
You had to charmspeak the train conductor, the police officer at the station, and the bus driver. You wonder faintly if your mother had been looking out for you, helping you love Clarisse again.
Of course, all of those instances ended in Clarisse pulling you into the nearest corner.
It’s different, now that you know that you live each other. She still kisses you with that rough deepness, like she’s starved, like she’s trying to breathe you in, but her hands are so soft around you. She holds your waist close to you, not like she just wants to feel you body, but like she just wants to be close to you.
You swing your backpack off of your shoulder, you can feel your mascara smeared down your face from the heat, digging into your bag for the black box.
Chiron smiles and holds his hands out for you to place them in. “You have my thanks,” he says, laying the box into his hand.
You’re surprised when all he does is take out a simple pen. It looks like a nice pen, sure, but still just a pen.
He uncaps it, letting it fall to the concrete, when it suddenly transforms into a sword. You yelp and jump back, Clarisse puts her arm in front of you, and Chiron laughs triumphantly.
“Beautiful!” he says, admiring the carefully crafted sword.
Mr. D dissolves into a fit of laughter. “No more bad blood, huh?”
Clarisse drops her hand from where it reaches for her spear, and her other arm from across your body. Her hands drop to her sides, her face turns back into a mask of indifference and she shrugs.
Mr. D seems to find that even more funny, and Chiron dismisses you with a wave of his hand, staring in awe at the silver sword.
Clarisse presses her lips together into a tight line until you smack a kiss on her cheek.
“Love you,” you sing, and her face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s the only thing you ever want to know. All you need to know is her and her love.
—-
marley when she finds out clarisse and y/n are dating again: if you EVER and i mean EVER hurt her again i will torture you in ways not even imagined yet.
clarisse: ok yes i promise 😟😟
—-
clarisse when she realized she was in love with y/n: NO NO NO NO NEW FEELINGS NO I REJECT THIS AND I MUST RUN AWAY IN FACT THIS WILL NOT HAPPEN NO NO NO NO NO NO NO
also clarisse when she realized she just broke up with y/n: OH GODS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO WHAT HAVE I DONE NO NO NO NO PLEASE NO NO NO
—-
honorable mention to y/n fuck em’ and hate em’ l/n
another honorable mention to clarisse “none of them got close enough to hurt you” la rue
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish
@sincerely-silk @lacytalks
—-
pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!
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littlelamy · 15 days ago
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could you write more angst for rafe? I'm craving to be sad, maybe bc he promised he wouldn't do coke anymore and he was doing well but one day he lies to her and goes to a party to sniff some and then she finds out and maybe she's pregnant but he doesn't know yet 😁
a/n: thank you so much for sending a request!💗
you sit on the edge of the bed, fingers lightly tracing your stomach, the softest swell of new life beneath your skin. rafe’s words echo in your mind, the promises he made when you told him you couldn’t do this if he didn’t change. “i won’t touch it again,” he swore, those bright blue eyes locked on yours, so full of hope and fear and desperation.
and for a while, he’d stuck to it. he’d been good. you believed him.
but tonight, something felt off. the texts had come slower than usual, his answers short, distracted. he was out with topper and kelce, just for a drink, he said. you wanted to trust him—god, you wanted to believe that this time was different.
yet, the gnawing in your stomach hadn’t eased up since he left, a sense of dread you couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself it was nothing. just anxiety. just your mind playing tricks.
until your phone buzzes, a single message lighting up the screen. it’s topper.
you might wanna come get your boy.
your heart sinks. you stare at the screen, dread pooling in your gut. you can feel the blood drain from your face, your fingers shaking as you type back a response.
where is he?
the seconds stretch into an eternity as you wait for the reply, the silence in your room deafening. when it finally pings, the answer is simple.
party at kelce’s.
you stare at the message, the words burning into your brain. you don’t even need to ask to know what rafe is doing there. kelce’s parties are notorious for one thing—coke. it’s everywhere, flowing as freely as the alcohol.
and rafe…he promised you. he promised he’d never touch that shit again.
you stand up, legs shaking as you grab your keys off the dresser, the weight of your growing secret pressing against your ribs. you haven’t told him yet. you hadn’t even planned to tell him tonight. but now, every instinct screams at you to get to him, to stop him before he ruins everything.
the drive to kelce’s house feels endless, the night blurring outside the window as your mind races with thoughts of what you’ll find when you get there. rafe had done so well these last few months. he had tried—really tried—and you were so proud of him for it. but addiction doesn’t just disappear, no matter how much you both wanted it to.
your hands tighten around the steering wheel as you pull up to the house. the bass of the music pulses through the air, shaking the ground beneath your feet as you step out of the car. the usual crowd is scattered around the yard, red solo cups in hand, laughter and shouting cutting through the night. but your eyes aren’t on them. you’re only focused on finding him.
as you push your way through the crowd, the smell of alcohol and smoke thick in the air, your heart pounds in your chest, a sickening rhythm that echoes the dread building inside you. you glance around, scanning the faces, searching for that familiar blond head.
and then, you see him.
he’s leaning against the bar, back turned to you, and your breath catches in your throat. even from a distance, you can see it—the slight twitch in his movements, the telltale signs that you know all too well. he’s on edge, more animated than usual, and you know. you don’t even need to get closer to know what he’s done.
he’s broken his promise.
you feel a wave of nausea crash over you as you step forward, heart hammering in your chest. every step feels heavy, like you’re walking through water, slow and inevitable. when you reach him, you grab his arm, pulling him around to face you.
“rafe,” you say, your voice trembling, and he looks at you, startled.
his pupils are blown wide, the usual spark in his blue eyes dimmed, replaced by something darker, something you’ve seen before but prayed you’d never have to see again.
he opens his mouth to say something, but the words don’t come. instead, he stumbles over his thoughts, his hand going to his nose instinctively, wiping at it.
“what are you doing here?” he slurs, blinking at you in confusion. “i thought you were—”
“you promised me,” you cut him off, your voice sharp, louder than you intended. “you said you wouldn’t do this again, rafe.”
he flinches at the accusation, his face falling as he stares at you. “i wasn’t—i didn’t mean to. it was just…just a little. i’m fine.”
you feel the tears burning at the corners of your eyes, anger and hurt bubbling up inside you. “you lied to me.”
he tries to reach for you, but you step back, your body trembling with rage. “don’t. don’t touch me.”
rafe’s face crumples, and for a second, you almost feel sorry for him. almost. but then you remember why you’re here. you remember the promise he made, the way he swore up and down that he would change, for you, for your future.
and now, that future feels like it’s slipping through your fingers.
“i’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking, but you don’t want to hear it. you don’t want to hear his apologies, not when he’s high, not when he’s like this.
“sorry’s not enough, rafe,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “it’s not enough this time.”
he looks at you, desperation in his eyes, and you can see the fear creeping in—the fear of losing you, of losing everything. but it’s too late for that now. the damage is done.
“i’m done,” you say, the words feeling foreign in your mouth, like they don’t belong there. “i can’t keep doing this.”
rafe’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head, panic flashing across his face. “no, no, please. don’t say that. you don’t mean that.”
“i do.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but the weight of the words hangs in the air between you. “i can’t keep lying to myself, pretending this is okay.”
“please,” he begs, stepping closer, his hands shaking. “please, baby, don’t do this. i’ll stop. i’ll get better. i’ll be better. just don’t leave me.”
you swallow, tears blurring your vision as you look at him, this broken boy in front of you, so lost in his own demons that he can’t see how much he’s hurting you. “i don’t know if i can believe you anymore.”
rafe’s face crumples, and for the first time, you see the tears welling up in his eyes, the cracks in his armor finally breaking open. but it doesn’t change anything. it doesn’t fix what he’s done.
“please,” he whispers again, his voice trembling. “i love you.”
your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you almost believe him. but then you remember the ache in your chest, the fear that’s been gnawing at you since the moment you found out you were pregnant. you remember all the nights you spent worrying, wondering if this was the right decision, if you could trust him to be the father your child needed.
and now, standing here, looking at him, you have your answer.
you can’t.
the drive home is a blur, tears streaming down your face as you try to keep it together. you don’t even remember how you made it back, your mind consumed with the weight of what just happened. the house feels empty when you walk inside, the silence suffocating as you collapse onto the couch, sobs wracking your body.
you’re pregnant. you’re carrying his child, and he doesn’t even know.
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0
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